I probably won't have any real pregame analysis of any upcoming CSU game since I usually don't even get to watch them live anymore and would just rehash what is said in the newspaper, so I will stick with what I know.And while I won't bring you pregame analysis, I will bring you Pregaming Analysis. I stumbled upon this topic while discussing my hatred of Utah's archaic liquor laws in an earlier preview, and I like where that went.
In this weeks episode of Pregaming I wanted to tackle three pressing issues: the dangers of drinking hard alcohol before a game, how big of dicks I think Air Force fans are and a few fun times I had at Air Force games. My horrors of hard alcohol story went a little long, so I broke up the analysis into two parts, then second to air later in the week. Today, I regale you with a story of my worst tailgating performance ever and a list of five reasons not to give up on the Rams.
There are several positives to hard liquor when pregaming. It is usually more cheep than beer, easier to mix, easier to disguise, quicker and less gassy. But the problem becomes the cut-off point.
My usual tailgating time frame usually starts between 2-3 hours prior to gametime. This is plenty of time to pound half a 30-rack of cheep beer, eat some brats and burgers while bullshitting with friends. I always start slow, nursing a beer or two for about the first 30 minutes, before I loosen up and begin my shotgun routine. The problem with hard alcohol, particularly in mixed drinks, is that I never really know how much I drink. A beer is a beer, but a no two rum-and-cokes are the same. This creates the danger-zone, as I can slowly feel myself getting drunk on beer, but hard alcohol seems to hide from me that I am getting drunk, until I suddenly snap to full-on rampaging drunk.
This is one such story...
Failgate: My biggest Failgate ever occurred during my sophomore year when CSU hosted a shitty Nevada team to open the home portion of our schedule. The Rams were 0-2, having lost terribly to Colorado and getting slaughtered by Minnesota (a loss the team chose to celebrate by invading my house for a party that I was not throwing). All I really knew about Nevada was that they had some goofy offense with the QB not really in the shotgun -later nicknamed the Pistol- and that it would be awful if we somehow choked against them.
This was the first game where beer would be sold at Hughes, after a year long hiatus do to Sam Spady's death, and it was also the first game with a more stringent tailgating policy, which mandated ID bracelets for those over 21. Not being 21, I decided that it would be a better idea to drink vodka out of a Gatorade bottle than to try and subtly drink Keystone Lights as the bands of roving cops circled.
It was a good decision, as I got drunk inconspicuously with my roommate at the time, Jon Henry Miles, but as gametime approached we had some extra vodka left over (Svedka, if I remember correctly). We decided to refill our 20 oz. Gatorade bottles that we have been sipping out of and pull the ole 'bottle in the pants smuggling tactic.' We were pretty good at this from our days in the dorms, where it was a regular occurrence for someone in our hall to stick a full handle of Taaka into their pants to walk past security. F3 rolled hard. (Smuggling tip #1: Nobody likes to check your junk. We could stick full handles in our crotch area and walk right into a cop and then wouldn't be able to suspect a thing. I mean, cops are kind of dicks, but that doesn't mean they are gay)
Everything was fine at first, as I easily cleared the first couple waves of ushers checking for booze and found a guy drunker than me to follow (Tip #2: There is always someone drunker than you. If there isn't, you are probably not going to pull this off), allowing him to take the full heat of person patting us down, while I snuck past them with only a cursory pat of my hip. I was in, and Jon soon followed. Great success!
Until, at the third of the 20 or so steps to the concourse, when the bottle slipped from the comfortable position in my boxer-briefs and began sliding down the pant-leg of my oversized Nauticas. It didn't fall out initially, luckily, sticking between my ankle and the top of my Adidas, allowing me to basically pimpwalk up almost two flights of stairs, but as I began my final approach disaster struck. The bottle popped out the bottom of my pants and began a very slow roll down the stairs. Alarmed, I called back to Jon, who was following me, to catch it, but he simply shook his head and let it bounce off his foot, before it bounced down the stairs, finally striking the foot of a CSUPD officer (Tip #3: When this happens, run).
And not just any officer, one we had nicknamed T-1000, due to his resemblance to the Terminator cop. We had quite the history of run-ins from my dorm hi-jinks (and childhood fear from this scene), so I chose not to stick around long enough for him to put two-and-two together. I booked it into the student section, blending in as best as possible.
The game had yet to start and so as Jon and I went to find our seats. I demanded a drink from the bottle, believing his failure to react quickly enough was the reason I didn't have my own bottle. This should have been a sign that I did not need any more alcohol (Tip #4: Don't sneak in any more than one or two drinks worth of booze. You have already been drinking, just bring enough to keep your buzz rolling). I didn't recognize this at the time. He assumed that it was more my fault than his that I now had nothing to drink and refused to give me any. So, when he got distracted, talking to some other friends, I grabbed the bottle from him and downed the whole fucking thing. Jon thought I was only going to take a swig, seeing as how we had no chaser. He obviously forgot that I had lived on vodka all freshman year and trained myself to drink without a chaser. Suck on that, Miles. Looks like I won this round. He wasn't happy, but I soon forgot all about that. And what my name was.
What happened after that is a blur. I vaguely remember George Hill, my NCAA Football 2006 man-crush having the only big play of his career, an apparent kickoff return a TD. I remember bragging to everyone about this fact, and being very confused about why the Rams weren't kicking the extra point and why everyone was mad. Instead of being the annoying guy who points out the flag before everyone else sees it, which I usually am, I was annoying guy too dumb to notice a penalty occured until two plays later. This was the first play of the game. It was the start of a very long day for anyone sitting around me, but a very short day in my mind, as I only remember a couple of things.
Some highlights:
-At one point I full on tackled Derek Theler and/or Matt Lloyd. In the concrete stands. I don't remember this, but I have eyewitnesses who told me about it. In the process I knocked over a lot of other people. Maybe one of them can fill in the blanks, but I know I tackled someone.
-I decided to sing the fight song almost constantly, even when nothing else was going on. I could only sing it because the guy in front of me had the words on the back of his CSU Pride t-shirt. If that wasn't annoying enough, I accented every word by poking said guy in the back with my finger while I sang it. Needless to say, this person was not very amused after the 20th repetition. I vaguely remember meeting this guy later, as he was a friend of a friend.
-I found the name Benedict very funny, and kept yelling it "Bene-Dick, Bene-Dick". Later on in my college career I met Scott Benedict. He remembered being very confused why someone was "cheering" for him all game. We all were.
-When it was finally determined I must leave the game, my friends Luke and Tough Guy, attending their first game as CSU students, gave me a ride home. Even from a different car I was still pissing people off, somehow almost getting into a fight with the guys in a Jeep next to us in traffic after I told them, "Jesus hates hip hop."
- Then I passed out at Taco Bell.
CSU won 42-21 and I remembered nary a thing. I decided at that point I would never have a situation like that at a sporting event and I have been pretty good about following through on that pledge, besides an unfortunate Rockies game that involved pregame Jaegerbombs, Pisco (Tip #5: Never, ever drink Pisco, it is Chilean devil's tonic) and an MIP.
I didn't stop drinking hard alcohol before games at that point, but that was the last time I drank so much that I don't remember the game. Now, I really try to avoid it at all costs. It tends to hit me all at once, and especially in the tailgate situation, you rush to drink as much as possible before you have to go into the stadium. Beer, with foam and how cold it is, naturally slows you down a certain degree and that is a great thing.
I do enjoy sneaking in a few mini-shooters, Pocketshots or small flask to keep the buzz going, especially on those cold Colorado days, but there is no need to pound Vodka anymore, especially since I am over 21 (Tip #6: Pocketshots are awesome. I like to slip them into my shoes, in the back kind of under the heel. Walk on your toes until you are in the clear and then transfer them back to your pocket. Brilliant.). I would not recommend trying to sneak in any full beers, as I have heard too many stories of people getting caught drinking those in stadiums.
Sunshine Pumping Real CSU Analysis:
I like to try and find silver linings, so I am going to put on my green and gold glasses to find five positive things for the rest of the season (mostly so I can convince myself that buying tickets to the UNLV game in two weeks wasn't a bigger mistake than the baby in Juno):
1. Air Force can't really pass the ball: CSU has done fairly well at stopping the run, so playing the oxymoronic Air Force, who can't pass for shit, might help. Stop the run and...
2. Take an early lead: CSU has been awesome at this lately. Other than the BYU shitshow, the Rams have jumped on teams, now if only we had learned to keep that lead in the second half. At least Air Force's run-oriented offense should help shorten the game, because...
3. We don't have depth: It sucks, but that can't be blamed on the current coaching staff. That is on Sonny. We are down five starters at least right now. Whenever we have to sub, it is someone almost brand new. We need more quality players and...
4. Coach Fairchild is raking in recruits: CSU has signed at least nine players for next year's class already, including a center ranked in the top-25 of the nation and several talented, fast players from Florida. For all the problems San Diego State has (and they have a lot, which is why we should have won), they do out-athlete CSU. Hopefully that is changing, especially on defense, because...
5. We played well enough to win on offense: I know Grant Stucker threw a couple of bad picks, but CSU put up 28 points and could have scored more if SDSU didn't have the ball almost the entire second half.
I really hope that the Rams can dig deep, beat the Falcons and get to 4-5. UNLV is also a beatable team, New Mexico sucks and Wyoming, while always tough, is not more talented than us. 7-5 is still possible, and 6-6 will get us to a bowl. I think this team needs to realize that they pretty much need to win out if they want the season to be a success, and I hope they can up their effort with their back's to the wall.
Later on in the week: Some fun Air Force memories and reason why Air Force fans are gigantic bags of douche.
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