Give Thanks
By Rob Heilig
“I know I don’t get there often enough
But God knows I surely try
It’s a magic kind of medicine
That no doctor could prescribe”
(One Particular Harbor - Jimmy Buffett)
For very many folks in Aiken and the CSRA (and beyond), The Sports Center is our “One Particular Harbor.”
Serving some of the best burgers, onion rings, and coldest beer in the CSRA for over 40 years, The Sports Center, or “594,” its address and shortest nickname, has seen the comings and goings of Augusta from its large plate glass window, situated by the flat-top and fryer at the far end of the wooden bar top.
While the Augusta Museum of History is sandwiched across the road between the 594 window by the grill and St. Paul’s Church, inside The Sports Center is a veritable museum of another kind of Augusta History.
Aside from great food and a whirling jukebox, 594 offers many of its regulars (and those on the way to becoming a regular) a spot to celebrate the good times and also find a way to make it through the rough seas. Handshakes, a friendly greeting, hugging necks, telling a joke, laughing at jokes told, laughing through the tears, and crying through the smiles.
Under a brilliant cerulean sky this past Sunday, enough rapscallions, miscreants, and bon vivants gathered at the corner of Sixth and Broad in Augusta, just 13 miles from Aiken, to make it look like part of Fort Gordon was on leave back in its the glory days. There are those last Sunday, who drove down Broad Street and wondered why there were 75 cars parked on a day when that block is normally closed. Some may have shaken their heads, seeing some “heathens” on the sidewalk with a drink in their hands and smiles on their faces on a Sunday.
But none of that, is why we all gathered Sunday afternoon behind a heavy door with a small sign taped to its glass portion which read “PRIVATE PARTY.”
Ten days prior, a text went out to a few regulars of the establishment from “Big Rob” saying he wanted to do a surprise party on the 24th for The Sports Center’s owner, Sandi Watkins, under the guise that it was just a private afternoon of cold beer and fellowship for the men and women who choose to meet there regularly. The replies were instantaneous, generally summed up as “I’m in, whatever you need.” Which should come as no surprise to those who know Sandi.
2023 was the sort of year many of The Sports Center regulars would choose to forget. We met on two different occasions for private parties at 594- celebrations of life. First for Sandi’s husband, Bill, the week after The Masters, then in November for her son, Travis. Toasts, tears of sorrow, and also some of joy. The same faces that were there on Sunday to shower her with love were there on those sad days to offer comfort and support.
Fast forward to 2024, After Hurricane Helene pummeled our area, texts began flying every which-a-way amongst friends and family. Sandi had damage at her own house near Augusta National with downed trees and flood waters from Rae’s Creek challenging its foundation.
But Sandi had power and water at 594, and soon was open serving hot to-go food to the responders, as well as a limitless supply of ice for those in need. All while she and her family slept on mattresses on top of pool tables in the back of this gem of a joint.
This selflessness comes as no surprise to the people who know Sandi and the Watkins family. Hiding in plain view amongst the memorabilia and trinkets along the 100+ year old brick walls in the cavernous space are countless plaques and notes of commendation thanking Sandi and the Watkins for feeding various groups and causes over the years.
Help comes in many forms.
So, inside 594 Sunday, were a whole host of friends and family noshing on Sandi’s favorite pizza, stuffed peppers that deserved their own column, and homemade desserts that could’ve stopped any traffic outside. Beer flowed like the happy tears down Sandi’s face when the cat was let out of the bag and she found out it was HER party. A party to say “Thank you”.
If Sandi did know about the party in advance, her surprise should win her an Academy Award for being a fantastic thespian. Thespian or not, she’s always been a fantastic captain of a stationary ship anchored at 594 Broad Street in Augusta.
Thanksgiving doesn’t always have to be on a Thursday, and there doesn’t always have to be a bird in the middle of the table. Sometimes it can come on a Sunday with a ramshackle group from all walks of life, cold beer, a jukebox, and good cheer.
There’s more for which we can give thanks in this world than we can ever fathom.
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!
