Snarkastic

Third Saturday in October

There's always something about today.

I wish I'd thought to do this post earlier, and taken some time beforehand to think about what I was going to say, but wasn't it Sorkin who said it becomes one of those things that happen when you're looking the other way?

I defy anyone who claims to be bored by football to go to the Tennessee-Alabama game and not spend the whole four hours on their nonbelieving feet. If you think it's some provincial thing, think again. This, too, is a good start to convince you otherwise. This is even better. Take it from me: There's nothing like this game. We'll pull a Joe Lansdale and make that a little more immediate-like. We'll even repeat it for the drowsy: There's nothing like this game. Now, don't be fooled; of course there are better things on earth than the Vols-Tide weekend. But I said there's nothing like it, and you have to see it to believe it.

I have a long history with this game. Come a certain Friday, my family and Gina's family would pile into cars and drive down to Tuscaloosa or Birmingham. If the game was in Knoxville, that Friday afternoon marked the point where my concentration on daily matters would begin to slip. Gina and I invariably sat in the student section; one in orange, one in crimson, one guarding the other's back because until you've ventured into that hive of scum and villainy wearing the wrong colors you haven't known True Hatred. To our credit, we always endeavored to conduct ourselves in a manner befitting a guest in someone's home. It's just that I wasn't very good at it.

It always turns cold just in time for this game, too. Not enough to make a body feel discomfort, just enough to put that autumn tang in the air. Today's no exception.

This is the last time I get to do this. And it's different this year. I'm shepherding a giant block of undergrads instead of dressing up and tailgating with blood relations. Not sure I made the right decision, but I can, in theory, go to the game every year if I want to, and this is my last chance to go as a student.

The Auburn game is tense. The Georgia game's mean and dirty, and the Florida game's downright vicious, year to year. But there is nothing like a hundred and nine thousand orange faithful screaming at the tops of their lungs against the marauding Crimson. Nothing like the lower deck of the student sections at Neyland and Bryant. Nothing, nothing like the third Saturday in October.

Roll to Hell, Tide

Posted by Nastinchka at October 23, 2004 12:56 PM