Sweet Home Alabama

This past weekend I got to check something off my bucket list. I experienced a total bro event. There is a mecca for anything someone loves. Basketball fans must get to Madison Square Garden, baseball fans should’ve made it to old Yankee Stadium and Wrigley, and foodies have to go to Paris and Italy. Well, football fans are required to do an SEC game once in their life. I went to the Alabama-LSU in Tuscaloosa on Saturday and I am officially a Crimson Tide fan. That is a football and bro atmosphere, and those are definitely two of my favorite things. Tuscaloosa may be the center of the bro and football universe. Frat-stars down there dudes. And you know how they say SEC babes are smoking? Its true. Hot babes all over, total all you can eat buffet. But, as one guy told me, “Yeah, they’re hot. But wait until you start dating one, they start expecting marriage and gain 25 pounds. They’re all here to get their MRS degree.” Hey bud, fine by me. If you don’t want them, I’ll take them. Nothings better than a hot blonde in a hounds-tooth hat.

There are frat houses lining the stadium, literally a stones throw away. And when I say frat houses, I mean upper middle class family homes. Seriously, some of them are nicer than the house I grew up in, with full bars and stocked buffets. Food in the front, kegs and cocktails in the back, music and people everywhere. It was basically a really nice bar. I was a little out of place because I didn’t have on the official SEC frat boy uniform: Costa del Mar sunglasses with croakies, a tucked in button down, chinos and brown loafers. All tied together with the swooped-in-the-front bangs look. I’m not sure where or when they had the meeting and decided every frat-star down there would dress the same, but it worked. I mean, I was literally the only guy without that exact outfit on, but I was close. No croakies, but Maui Jims and way better hair. After taking in the impressive digs of a certain fraternity, I said to one of the guys from Alabama, “I don’t even want to know what you have to do to get into this frat.” He looked me in the eyes, as serious as a heart-attack and said, “Fuck a goat.” I laughed, expecting him to join in with me, but he looked at me again and said, “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.” It sounds strange but between the beer, girls, house and football team, it might be worth it. The bars were also next to the stadium, across the street on “the strip.” If you’re into frat-tastic scenes, get over to Galette’s and get a Yellowhammer. Total mayhem.

Never in my life, not even at the Bruce Springsteen concert or any other, have I seen 85,000 people all singing one song together that meant so much to them. Whenever they played that opening riff to “Sweet Home Alabama,” it was like a religious experience for these people. And when 85k people have coordinated, synchronized chants and movements, it’s pretty awesome to witness. And what a game it was, although even as a converted Alabamian, LSU got hometowned on the Peterson interception ruled out of bounds. But I’m not complaining, it just allowed me to witness 85,000 people collectively breathe a sigh of relief, and I don’t want to know what the environment would’ve been had they lost. Mark Ingram, Julio Jones and Rolando McClain are absolute animals. The Giants need to get McClain, dude was in on every tackle. Not surprised Mark Ingram is a beast though. His father is a former New York Giant, and current convict for bank fraud and money laundering. I really can’t do the atmosphere inside the game justice by describing it in words, so I won’t even try. It’s something you have to see.

I spent Friday night in Atlanta with some friends. Good times and good food, but that’s not the point. The plan was to drive to Tuscaloosa Saturday morning. It ideally takes about 2.5-3 hours, which we planned on spending drinking. Well, as usual, drinking in the car resulted in multiple bathroom stops, so it ended up taking close to 4. No complaints, just more cocktails. Driving from Atlanta to Tuscaloosa though, you gain an hour from the time change, or as I described it, we went back in time. So me being childish/awesome/a few drinks deep, as we crossed the border into Alabama I demanded that we be going 88 miles per hour, and was singing the Back to the Future theme. Even someone not as obsessed with that movie as me could find joy in that. And unless I get Parkinson’s, that’s the closest I’ll ever come to being Marty McFly. It’s the little things in life that matter people.

Great weekend, great place. Wouldn’t want to live there, but definitely a top-notch spot for a bro-fest. Keeping it short, but like I said earlier; I am officially a Crimson Tide Fan.

That dog’ll hunt