GameCock Football - Tailgate Crazy

Loser that I am, I finally made it to my first college football game thanks to the kindness of a friend who gave us the tickets.  William Bryce Stadium in Columbia, SC, a cool state if I may so even though they were, as Gen'l Sherman put it, "The hotbed of secession, or the 'sesech,' as the grandfathers would call the losing Southerners."   It was a cool time with USC (the real University of South Carolina) and the Kentucky Wildcats.  I'm sitting in front of a Gamecock fan who - apparently pretty intoxicated - continues to yell in my ear, "com'n boyzzz," like he's some kind of wanna-be rap star.  "I hate these afternoon games," he says.  "The 'Cocks' never do well in afternoon games when it's hot," (I can attest to that) as he reached down for his plastic bottle and another drink of 7-Up? - it was a clear liquid - I'm just sayin.'.   Pretty soon Mr. 'Cocks,' gets alot more friendly with me than I am accustomed from a man. 

Now sit for abit and ponder how 'Gamecocks' becomes a team mascot.  Especially when the use of a 'gamecock' for cockfighting is illegal in all civilized countries except Georgia where apparently Mr. Vick (watch your beagle Vicks an Eagle), uses dogs for this kind of blood - animal sport that low lifes practice.  And I'm supposed to be sad somehow that he can't have a dog for his kids and they ask, "Why daddy?" Because your daddy is a blood thirsty low-life criminal who used dogs for sport and would then beat if they lost a fight.  My kind of 'daddy.'  Run away kid - run away quickly. 

Then you sit in a public university with 80,000 fellow Gamecock fans waving their hands in the air and yelling "Go cocks," to a thunderous roar.  No Eagles flying around a stadium, no Tigers or Falcons, a GAMECOCK!   Just "Go cocks."  (sorry, I can't capitalize it out of decency).   And then an irritating "cock-a-doodle-do, cock-a-doodle-do," coming over the loudspeaker.  I'd gladly lose here just to have them shut-up that cock-a-doodle-do" sound. 

But what else?  I can't sit for the game.  We're sitting in a pretty good section off the 40 yard line about 50 rows back but everytime a play starts the guy in front of me stands up and so I have to stand up and then everyone behind me has to stand up in front of the fifteen or so 80 year old plus people with inherited blue-blood tickets giving them their seats for eternity don't bother because their knees have to be bothering them in this horrendously hot afternoon game. 

Then my new friend Mr. 'Joe cocks' behind me starts to grab my shoulders every time the Gamecocks do something good.  Then he's slapping my back while continuing to yell "Com'n boyzzz."  Things get too personal real quick.  Sandy had been gone 1/2 an hour to get one hot dog and now this guy thinks I'm his best friend and starts to talk to me.  Anyway, the game turned out well for USC and we left at the beginning of the 4th quarter since we had parked two miles away due to the tail-gaters.

We make it home and I'm in a pretty good mood so I make the wife a special salad for dinner.  I eat Profera's pizza - never tiring of it.  Can I line up olives or what?