LSU vs. Tennessee

It's a good thing that college football isn't normally played on Monday night.

It's a bad thing that I used up my "way too drunk" tailgate day on a Monday.

Before Hurricane Rita blew in, we had the mother of tailgate parties planned. I was heading to campus at 5:00 AM or so, just to make sure we could have the party in the spot that we like, On Monday, I got out there a bit before noon, and I had to squat right next to another tailgate to get an address in my general tailgate neighborhood.

It was probably the hottest tailgate I remember, which might (or might not) have something to do with all of the drinking. It was miserable, but at least I wasn't in costume. The best I saw was a guy in a white body suit, with purple and gold tiger stripes dyed into the fabric. He accessorized with cowboy boots, a holster, with whisky bottles in place of sidearms, and a ten gallon hat. Very stylish.

There were some people with a couple of giant poodles with "LSU" and "Tigers" shaved into their fur. I guess if you're going to subject your dog to the indignity of a creative shaving, it might as well be a giant poodle.

The Tennessee fans were scarce, and I missed the opportunity to trade mean-spirited barbs with strangers from across the country. At one point, I turned my venom on a guy in turquoise for the offense not wearing colors that reveal his affiliation to either team in the game that day.

I found nothing hypocritical about the fact that I did this in a blue hat.

Speaking of that blue hat, I came across an interesting theory on the cumulation of superstition that solves the multi-superstition conundrum. The conundrum arises because there are thousands of fans, each with their own superstitions. For a given game, some follow their superstitions and some don't. So whose superstitions actually drive the outcome of the game?

I have gone through life treating this question the way you have to treat movies about time travel: don't think about it too hard, or you start to realize how stupid it all is. But on the other hand, you know that LSU always loses when you don't wear that damned hat, so you dare not leave it home.

But a fan quoted in the book Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer has it all figured out. Your team's fans have all of their thousands of superstitions, and their teams fans all of their superstitions. Whichever group is more devout is the winner.

Come to think of it, I think I threw my sweat-soaked hat in the back of the Jeep before the game was over. No championship this year. My bad.

I was pretty bummed about the loss on Monday night. But today, it didn't seem all that dire. But if listening to talk radio in Baton Rouge is an accurate gage, then I'm clearly in the minority. In fact, some fans have family members raped and tortured before their very eyes when LSUs defense tires early. Or so you would believe if you listen to these callers.

I understand why they get angry, but not why they get that ridiculously angry. What's the worst thing that could happen? Les Miles's teams play roughly like Curly Hallman's?

So what?

At least there was plenty of room for asses in the bleachers, and the tickets were cheap.

Let me leave you with one simple thought.

2003 National Champs!