CRUSH MAGAZINE CULTURE ARCHIVES “THROW SOME D’Z” The Night George Turner Turned A Calvary Basketball Game Into A Full-Blown Savannah Block Party

CRUSH MAGAZINE CULTURE ARCHIVES

“THROW SOME D’Z”

The Night George Turner Turned A Calvary Basketball Game Into A Full-Blown Savannah Block Party

By CRUSH Magazine Music, Sports & Culture Staff

PROLOGUE — SOME GAMES TURN INTO MEMORIES

And some games turn into local mythology.

The “Throw Some D’z” game became mythology.

Not because of one shot.

Because of the atmosphere.

The music.
The crowd.
The swagger.
The chaos.
The after-party energy already building BEFORE halftime even ended.

By the late-2000s, George “Party Plug Mikey” Turner had already become one of the most emotionally electric players in Coastal Georgia basketball.

And one particular home-game barrage — forever connected in people’s memories to Throw Some D’s — became one of the defining superfan moments of the entire Calvary Crazies era.

CHAPTER 1 — THE GYM WAS ALREADY TOO LOUD BEFORE TIPOFF

That’s the first thing people remember.

The gym already felt unstable before the game even started.

Students packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
Bass rattling the bleachers.
Cheerleaders yelling over the speakers.
Teachers pretending they could still control the crowd.

Meanwhile George Turner walked into warmups moving slow and calm while:
Mark Jones,
Cody Padgett,
Steve Williams,
Dom,
and the rest of the squad bounced around the court loose and confident.

Then the DJ dropped:

Throw Some D’s

And the whole gym changed emotionally.

Because Rich Boy represented EXACTLY the type of southern swagger Savannah kids worshipped back then:
flashy confidence,
street charisma,
party energy,
and unapologetic style.

The song hit the gym like gasoline.

CHAPTER 2 — THE FIRST THREE STARTED THE AVALANCHE

George’s first deep three didn’t even look difficult.

That’s what made it disrespectful.

Casual dribble.
Quick rise.
Splash.

Students immediately jumped up screaming.

But George?
No reaction.

Just jogging backward calmly while Mark Jones clapped in his face and the Calvary Crazies started stomping the bleachers in rhythm.

Then the DJ ran “Throw Some D’z” BACK.

That’s when the emotional avalanche started.

CHAPTER 3 — THE THREE-POINT BARRAGE FELT LIKE A RAP VIDEO

The next few minutes honestly stopped feeling like organized basketball.

George started launching from everywhere.

Wing threes.
Transition pull-ups.
Heat checks from absurd range.

And every single make made the crowd more reckless emotionally.

People throwing towels.
Students climbing bleachers.
Bench players running halfway onto the floor before coaches screamed at them to sit down.

Meanwhile “Throw Some D’z” kept blasting through the speakers after every timeout and momentum break.

The whole gym started feeling like:
a basketball game,
a mixtape release party,
and a southern nightclub all happening simultaneously.

CHAPTER 4 — THE CALVARY CRAZIES LOST COMPLETE CONTROL

This was peak Calvary Crazies behavior.

Body paint everywhere.
Students yelling before shots landed.
Newspapers flying through the air after another George heat-check bomb.

One group near the baseline reportedly started screaming:
“HE DON’T MISS!”

over and over every time George crossed half court.

And honestly?

It started feeling believable.

Because once George entered rhythm, the crowd reacted like every shot was destined to go in.

That emotional certainty became terrifying for opponents.

CHAPTER 5 — MARK JONES TURNED THE FAST BREAK INTO A PARTY

While George burned defenses from deep…

Mark Jones turned transition basketball into emotional destruction.

Steal.
Push the pace.
Collapse the defense.
Kick-out to George.

BOOM.

Another three.

Then Mark sprinting back downcourt screaming while the crowd exploded again.

The chemistry between Mark and George made the game feel too fast emotionally for opponents to survive.

And every fast-break sequence somehow synced perfectly with the Rich Boy soundtrack blasting in the background.

CHAPTER 6 — CODY PADGETT KEPT THE PRESSURE SUFFOCATING

Cody Padgett became the stabilizer inside the chaos.

Because while George and Mark emotionally overwhelmed teams outside…

Cody punished defenders physically and methodically.

Rebounds.
Putbacks.
Mid-range buckets.
Tough finishes through contact.

Every time defenses overextended trying to stop George’s perimeter fire…

Cody made them pay immediately.

That balance made the barrage impossible to survive.

CHAPTER 7 — THE AFTER-PARTY ENERGY STARTED INSIDE THE GYM

This part became legendary locally.

By the second half, the game atmosphere already felt connected to after-party culture.

That’s why the Rich Boy energy fit perfectly.

Because George’s “Party Plug” reputation wasn’t limited to basketball anymore by senior year.

The crowd understood:
the game was only PHASE ONE of the night.

Students already talking about:
where everybody linking after,
who pulling up,
which rival-school crowds staying around,
and which cheerleaders still hanging after the game.

The basketball atmosphere blended directly into Savannah social culture.

That blurred line made the era feel bigger than sports.

CHAPTER 8 — THE SUPERFANS TREATED GEORGE LIKE A ROCKSTAR

The craziest reactions came from the superfans.

Not normal cheering.

Rockstar-level hysteria.

Students rushing railings after big shots.
People holding hands on they head in disbelief.
Crowds screaming before George even released the ball.

And every timeout became another performance break once:
“Throw Some D’z”
started shaking the speakers again.

The gym genuinely felt emotionally possessed by momentum.

That’s why older Savannah alumni still describe the era differently from ordinary basketball memories.

It felt larger than sports.

CHAPTER 9 — BEFORE SOCIAL MEDIA, THIS WAS REAL VIRAL ENERGY

The wildest part?

Most of this never got properly filmed.

No TikTok.
No HD mixtape edits.
No Instagram reels.

Just:
flip phones,
MySpace clips,
local storytelling,
MaxPreps pages,
Savannah Morning News recaps,
and pure memory.

Which somehow made the mythology even stronger.

Because people remembered:
the FEELING.

The bass.
The crowd noise.
The impossible shooting.
The gym shaking after every George three.

That emotional memory survived longer than video ever could.

CHAPTER 10 — THE DNA OF ORANGE CRUSH WAS ALREADY THERE

Years later when people saw George Turner controlling:
festival crowds,
Orange Crush beach energy,
pool-party atmospheres,
and nightlife events,

older Savannah basketball people immediately recognized the same formula.

Music.
Swagger.
Timing.
Crowd manipulation.
Energy pacing.

The blueprint already existed inside the old Calvary gym.

The “Throw Some D’z” game proved it.

Basketball was simply the first stage.

FINAL CRUSH MAGAZINE CLOSE

Before influencer athletes.
Before NIL branding.
Before social-media hype culture.

There was George Turner raining deep threes while Throw Some D’s blasted through old gym speakers and the Calvary Crazies completely lost they minds.

Mark Jones flying downhill.
Cody Padgett punishing defenses.
Students screaming like they watching a rap superstar instead of a varsity game.

And somewhere between the music, the barrage, and the chaos…

Savannah accidentally created one of the loudest basketball atmospheres of its generation.