Every year, just as Halloween rolls around and ghosts, goblins and other frightening creatures emerge from the shadows, Florida’s worst nightmare comes stalking out of the Georgia locker room wearing a red visor, a familiar smirk and the unmistakable swagger of a man who has made tormenting the Gators an annual October tradition.

His name is Kirby “The Grim Reaper” Smart.

And no matter how many coaches Florida fires, quarterbacks it changes or rebuilding plans it unveils, the Gators can’t seem to escape the monster lurking on the other sideline. For six straight years, Smart has turned one of college football’s fiercest rivalries into Florida’s own personal house of horrors, where the nightmares keep recurring, the Bulldogs keep winning and the whole frightening spectacle seems to end with Smart unleashing a sinister, Vincent Price-style cackle straight out of Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Georgia 27, Florida 8.

Same old horror movie on Saturday in Atlanta. Different Gators cast.

Florida fired Billy Napier.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t fire Kirby Smart.

And therein lies the biggest problem facing new coach Jon Sumrall and a Florida football program that keeps searching for the magic formula to reclaim its place among college football’s elite.

The Gators don’t just have a Georgia problem. They have a Kirby Smart problem.

And it isn’t going away.

Once upon a time, Georgia-Florida was an annual heavyweight fight, two proud programs trading punches and championships while their fans traded insults and cocktails in Jacksonville.

Now?

Georgia doesn’t have a Florida rivalry anymore. It has a Florida tradition.

Six straight victories. Eight wins in nine meetings. Another afternoon in which Georgia looked like a championship-caliber football program and Florida looked like a program still trying to remember what championship football looks like.

The World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party has become the World’s Largest Annual Reminder of How High Georgia Has Risen And How Far Florida Has Fallen.

And Saturday, with the game temporarily relocated to Atlanta’s Mercedes-Benz Stadium, the Gators couldn’t even drown their sorrows in the usual Jacksonville sunshine.

They were trapped indoors with their tormentor.

To be fair, this Florida team has shown flashes of something better under Sumrall, a fiery, demanding coach who seems to possess the edge, intensity and attitude necessary to eventually challenge Smart.

But there’s a difference between having the blueprint and having the building.

Smart has constructed a football factory in Athens. Sumrall is still pouring the foundation in Gainesville.

Georgia recruits elite high school players, develops them, retains them and replaces them with more elite high school players. Florida has spent too much of the past decade changing coaches, changing systems and shopping the transfer portal like a desperate homeowner trying to repair a crumbling foundation with duct tape.

Sumrall understands this. He studied Georgia’s roster and marveled at how many Bulldogs have known only one college football home.

Georgia is not an accident. It’s a culture. It’s a mentality. It’s a way of life.

And culture isn’t something you can order overnight with a new coaching contract and a multimillion-dollar NIL budget.

Florida keeps changing the man holding the clipboard. Georgia keeps bringing the same man holding the trophy.

Saturday provided another painful reminder of the difference.

You don’t beat Kirby Smart by playing stupid football. Yet that’s precisely what Florida did.

Aaron Philo threw an inexplicable underhanded interception while scrambling under pressure, a decision that belonged in a blooper reel. Then Florida compounded the mistake by roughing Georgia’s punter, keeping alive a drive that ended in a touchdown.

Philo threw another interception and got benched. His replacement, Tramell Jones Jr., promptly contributed to his own disaster when Georgia’s Chris Cole scooped up his fumble and raced 66 yards for a touchdown.

By halftime, Georgia led 24-0.

The Gators weren’t just shooting themselves in the foot. They were emptying the entire ammunition clip into both shoes.

And even when Florida finally threatened to make things interesting, Jones threw an interception in the end zone from Georgia’s 3-yard line.

Four turnovers. Eight penalties. Another self-inflicted beating.

Georgia has the SEC’s No. 1 offense and No. 1 defense. The Bulldogs don’t need opponents to hand them presents. But Florida apparently decided Halloween should come with a complimentary gift basket.

Here’s the maddening part: Florida’s defense actually played well enough to keep the Gators competitive, holding Georgia to 318 yards. And even with the game hopelessly out of reach, the Gators kept fighting, forcing a fourth-quarter fumble that Myles Graham returned 42 yards to help set up UF’s only touchdown.

That resilience matters.

But resilience without discipline is just another way to lose respectably.

And Florida has had enough respectable losses, embarrassing losses and inexplicable losses to last several coaching administrations.

Consider this season’s roller coaster.

The Gators opened 4-0 and climbed to No. 7 nationally. Then came blowout losses to Missouri and South Carolina. Then an astonishing road upset of Texas that suggested Florida had finally turned the corner.

Then Saturday happened.

Turns out the corner led directly into a brick wall wearing a Georgia helmet.

Sumrall may eventually change that. He has the toughness, personality and understanding of program-building to give Florida genuine hope.

But hope isn’t a rivalry.

Competition is.

Until Florida can match Georgia’s talent, discipline and championship mentality, this annual showdown will remain less a rivalry than a ritual.

The Gators will keep changing coaches. The Bulldogs will keep collecting victories. And Kirby Smart will keep showing up every Halloween like the monster in a horror movie that nobody can figure out how to kill.

The Cocktail Party may change locations.

But Florida’s Halloween nightmare keeps coming back wearing a red visor, flashing that devilish smirk and getting the last laugh.

Email me at mbianchi@orlandosentinel.com. Hit me up on social media @BianchiWrites and listen to my radio show “Game On” every weekday from 3 to 6 p.m. on FM 96.9, AM 740 and 969TheGame.com/listen.