So here we are at week four. I've been to four completely different tailgates, I haven't gained 45 pounds, I have all my limbs, and I've only had beer poured on me (accidentally) once. I think.
Anyway, I had high expectations for LSU as a tailgating scene with top level food and insane amounts of passion and completely unintelligible Cajun accents. All were there, plus a giant, overbearing, sweaty guy and a tiny guy dressed like Cyclops from X-Men. Oh yea, and there were Louisiana girls. Everywhere. Here are the fotografias in always-stunning 4.1 megapixels:
On Friday night, camera guy and producer Casey, Casey's cousin Jake, and I went to TJ's Ribs in Baton Rouge. There was Tiger memorabilia everywhere, including Shaq's uniform, shoes, and picture from when he looked to be about 17 years old and 57,239 Whoppers thinner.
The first Heisman I've seen in person. This one belongs to 1959 winner, Billy Cannon. And yes, it's very difficult not to strike the Heisman pose in person after seeing the trophy. And by "very difficult," I mean "completely impossible." People stared. Oh well.
The best BBQ sauce bottle ever. The sauce wasn't bad either. Sweet, spicy, smoky. Mm.
Friday night on campus at Mike the Tiger's mini-sanctuary by the stadium. Supposely, millions and millions of dollars were spent on keeping Mike happy and comfortable. Let's hope Les Miles gets treated half as nicely by LSU when Michigan comes after him in January.
Tailgating field near the stadium. Not pictured: disgusting, horrible gulf humidity.
Pictured: A disgustingly humid Casey helping himself to a BBQ brisket sandwich and some beans. I don't even want to think about how much sliced and shredded meat I will consume over the course of this season. Oh wait, yes I do. Mm.
My grub. Don't worry, I think I put a cookie or something in the third section. You must be so relieved.
Big Dog and a girl at his same tailgate. If you haven't yet, please reference this week's episode to see why I tried my best to stay on both of their good sides.
LSU fans chase opposing fans and chant, "Tiger Bait! Tiger Bait!" This never got old - I enjoyed it every time. It got to the point where I was tempted to do it when I saw South Carolina fans in the Baton Rouge Airport the next morning at 7 am. In retrospect, I absolutely should have.
Uhh. Yea. I have no idea why I posed like this with topless LSU Robin Hood and cheap LSU Cyclops. I'm strange.
To be expected, although I'm not sure I want to know what "Gourmet Spurrier Ribs" are.
I applaud southern girls in little sun dresses. And yes, that's all I'm doing, applauding.
Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.
Right after we finished shooting, a giant gulf thunderstorm hit. I was pretty close to running around manically screaming, "This is it! This is The Big One!" but thought better of it. Don't get me wrong, though, I was close.
A view of my jacket, looking down. Insane.
We made it to the game. It wasn't loud in Death Valley as much as it was a giant tidal wave of noise almost constantly. WHAAAAT?
The game was pretty sloppy, but LSU completely dominated on defense and the special teams threw in a sweet fake FG touchdown run in by the kicker. Steve Spurrier seemed agitated.
We went to Raising Cane's, a place near campus that specializes in different chicken finger combinations. I clearly didn't need to be convinced to pour in calories 7,000 through 8,700 on the day.
Thassit. LA's way better than southern football games, huge tailgates, and southern belles. Wait, no, it isn't at all.
I'm going to start blogging here during the week about college football and whatever else strikes when the mood is right to write, so if you're at all interested, come on back and hang out.
For last year's epsidoes, check out The College Football Tour Guide
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