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.
Showing posts with label Shotgunning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shotgunning. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Pregaming Analysis: SDSU. Where we discuss the art and science of the shotgun
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.
Tailgating is awesome. I don't really need to tell anyone that, but it feels good to say it. It is one of the few times in life that you can drink a beer and feel no regret for tossing it on the ground, haphazardly. You know why? Because they make the drunks and perverts who need to perform community service clean it up the next day. Nothing rubs it in those assholes' faces like having to pick up thousands of empty, crushed Keystone Light cans, when they aren't allowed to even take a sip. Irony, Atlanis Morrissette-stlye, even if that is not irony.
Anyway, I fancy myself a bit of an expert at tailgating, having progressed from the kid who passes out midway through the Nevada game in my youth (story to come week) to the 23-year-old that still managed to be "the drunkest person on the field," according the Trevor Edy, after we rushed the field against CU. Okay, that may not look like a lot of progress, but during the CU game I was drinking the whole time to keep that buzz up and remember everything, while the Nevada game is one big blur of me falling down.
My secret, is to avoid hard alcohol and focus on pounding as much beer, as quickly as possible. The best way to do this, of course is the beer IV, but I can never find my veins with the needle. So instead I resort to my second favorite technique, THE SHOTGUN.
Yes, what a beautiful way to drink a beer. "NO thank you Pete Coors. I do not want to taste your swill or drink out of your fancy, new-fangled pull-tab. I want to stab this metal, sharp object with another metal, sharp object and then place my lips on a metal, sharp hole in order to make it shoot this alcohol straight into my throat. WHOOOO!"
What are the options. Simply chugging from the can takes far too long. I would guess 10 seconds or more at least.
Actually, we interrupt this blog for a quick episode of the popular discovery channel show, Mythbusters. In the name of science (and boredom and my new goal to raise my tolerance back to semi-college levels from the tity-drugger where I currently reside), I will now test this theory.
Shotgunning: 10 seconds to pierce can and make sure I don't spill all over the room, 3 seconds to chug. Total=13 seconds.
Chugging: 1 second to crack, 28 second to chug. Total=29 seconds.
Conclusion: While the shotgun took a little longer to prep for, I was able to drink it at almost six times the speed. Impressive. Also, the prep time to shotgun would go down significantly if I wasn't sitting in front of my computer, but in a parking lot unconcerned by spray (but as I will teach later, spray can be avoided if you are smart). So, in a perfect world, I could shotgun about 3 beers in the same time as I could chug one. Don't need to be a Josh McDaniels math major to understand that one.
P.S. Anyone who believes that I wouldn't really do this, doesn't know me at all, but here are some pics. Best part, 'Born in the USA' by Springsteen came on while I was doing my testing. Bawse:
Well, now that we understand just how awesome, and how much quicker, shotgunning is, I think that we should get into the how exactly to go about the shotgun.
You might be saying, Sack, you have shotgunned a beer with every person who will ever have the misfortune to check out this site, you don't need to tell us how to do it. Guess what? That is a valid point, but I write this blog for the hypothetical blog scouts that might stumble upon it and sign me to a big-ass blog deal.
This video does a pretty good job of explaining it, minus the pussy, "you might die from this" safety warning. (Warning: If you drink beer responsibly, you could die from being a complete pussy. Who wants that?)
I also disagree with some other issues in this video.
-Very poor hole-stabbing technique ("That's what she said."). The best way to shotgun was first introduced to me by Sam Horwitz, a person I am beginning to think I invented in my head so I could pretend I knew a Jewish person. Anyway, he showed me during Thanksgiving Break freshman year how to create the puncture hole in the bottom of the can with your finger. You just turn the can over, turn the can back towards right-side-up, locate the air bubble as it moves up the can, and jam your finger in. Should work like a charm (This guy shows you how). It doesn't always. In fact, often after I first learned this trick I would end up slicing my finger open. Ooops. At least alcohol kills all the germs.
-Use a key, not a knife. Now, I have simplified this approach, as I turn over the can, wait for the air bubble and puncture the can with my parent's house key. I think a key works better than a finger, and is certainly safer than a knife, but both work. Just apply steady pressure with a key after you have located the air bubble in the can, don't stab. Plus it reminds me of home.
Sure you can always stab beers alone or race a couple friends, but the only way to really get the full tailgate expirience is through the the BRO-GUN: It is the most common shotgun. A bunch of guys, hyped up, screaming, probably wearing body paint. They are gonna shotgun, they are going to peer pressure you into it, and if you are being a pussy and don't do it, you will watch and be impressed by them, because they have made this shotgun the center of attention for your parking row.
There isn't all whole lot of technique to the Bro, it is a smash-and-grab shotgun. It begins with a primal yell of "SHOTGUN. C'MON." Everyone grabs a beer, circles up, and takes turns stabbing their beer, often creating a fairly impressive spray, perhaps giving themselves or someone nearby a facial.
Everyone in the circle then has a "cheers" in the middle, yell something unintelligible and then powers down some Keystone at their own pace. Except, being Bros, everything is a little bit of a competition, so as soon as one person finishes their beer and chucks it to the ground, everyone picks up their pace to not look like a queer. But don't abandon your effort too soon, or else everyone will mock you for wasting beer, like a queer. It is a cruel cycle.
FAILGATES: I did not initially grasp the art of the shotgun, as before freshman year I still got confused exactly which hole was which (Wait, that may have been a different type of fail altogether?). At a party at my friend Mo's house once, while in a BRO-GUN, I accidentally turned my beer upside-down and opened the tab.
A great shotgun gone wrong occurred before the UNLV game last season. My parents were in town to tailgate and I also decided this was the perfect week to paint my body green and gold, as I had promised my friend Dusty I would do it. So right before painting ourselves green, my roommate Cheney and I also made Dusty honor his end of the deal, to shotgun a beer with us. But not just any beer, a tall boy PBR. Yes, 24 oz. of wonderful, 'Steak-in-a-can,' Blue Ribbon excellence.
A regular shotgun creates some apprehension, knowing that all that foam might fuck up your stomach's world, but a big-ass Pibber is a whole 'nother story. But being a true Bro and friend, Dusty stepped up to help Nate and I continue our good-luck stomach punishing.
And damnit if the bastard didn't kick our asses. Finishing probably 5 seconds ahead of me and not even taking a breath-pause, which I needed.
Still, almost as soon as he finished, he was bent over at the waist, struggling to breathe. And that was the day that Dusty puked in front of my parents, while I got drunk and painted myself green and gold. Welcome to CSU, family. I do have to give him props, because Dusty did rally.
Another great story involves my boy Fancy somehow puncturing his beer so poorly he swallowed some metal during his shotgun and had to force himself to vomit a piece of can up later. He is a special child.
(By the way, if anyone has any good Failgate stories of their own or wishes to remind me of one of my own that I forgot, please leave comments, e-mail or Facebook me)
Game analysis: Somehow SDSU has beaten CSU in blizzards several times in our history, so let's all hope for good weather.
And if we lose, I'm going to walk through my parking garage and break every single car window with a SDSU sticker, and there are a lot. No one wants to see that happen.
I don't know anything else, other than it is now 4:30a.m. and I am down 10 Natty Lights, so god bless and go Rams.
Tailgating is awesome. I don't really need to tell anyone that, but it feels good to say it. It is one of the few times in life that you can drink a beer and feel no regret for tossing it on the ground, haphazardly. You know why? Because they make the drunks and perverts who need to perform community service clean it up the next day. Nothing rubs it in those assholes' faces like having to pick up thousands of empty, crushed Keystone Light cans, when they aren't allowed to even take a sip. Irony, Atlanis Morrissette-stlye, even if that is not irony.
Anyway, I fancy myself a bit of an expert at tailgating, having progressed from the kid who passes out midway through the Nevada game in my youth (story to come week) to the 23-year-old that still managed to be "the drunkest person on the field," according the Trevor Edy, after we rushed the field against CU. Okay, that may not look like a lot of progress, but during the CU game I was drinking the whole time to keep that buzz up and remember everything, while the Nevada game is one big blur of me falling down.
My secret, is to avoid hard alcohol and focus on pounding as much beer, as quickly as possible. The best way to do this, of course is the beer IV, but I can never find my veins with the needle. So instead I resort to my second favorite technique, THE SHOTGUN.
Yes, what a beautiful way to drink a beer. "NO thank you Pete Coors. I do not want to taste your swill or drink out of your fancy, new-fangled pull-tab. I want to stab this metal, sharp object with another metal, sharp object and then place my lips on a metal, sharp hole in order to make it shoot this alcohol straight into my throat. WHOOOO!"
What are the options. Simply chugging from the can takes far too long. I would guess 10 seconds or more at least.
Actually, we interrupt this blog for a quick episode of the popular discovery channel show, Mythbusters. In the name of science (and boredom and my new goal to raise my tolerance back to semi-college levels from the tity-drugger where I currently reside), I will now test this theory.
Shotgunning: 10 seconds to pierce can and make sure I don't spill all over the room, 3 seconds to chug. Total=13 seconds.
Chugging: 1 second to crack, 28 second to chug. Total=29 seconds.
Conclusion: While the shotgun took a little longer to prep for, I was able to drink it at almost six times the speed. Impressive. Also, the prep time to shotgun would go down significantly if I wasn't sitting in front of my computer, but in a parking lot unconcerned by spray (but as I will teach later, spray can be avoided if you are smart). So, in a perfect world, I could shotgun about 3 beers in the same time as I could chug one. Don't need to be a Josh McDaniels math major to understand that one.
P.S. Anyone who believes that I wouldn't really do this, doesn't know me at all, but here are some pics. Best part, 'Born in the USA' by Springsteen came on while I was doing my testing. Bawse:
Well, now that we understand just how awesome, and how much quicker, shotgunning is, I think that we should get into the how exactly to go about the shotgun.
You might be saying, Sack, you have shotgunned a beer with every person who will ever have the misfortune to check out this site, you don't need to tell us how to do it. Guess what? That is a valid point, but I write this blog for the hypothetical blog scouts that might stumble upon it and sign me to a big-ass blog deal.
This video does a pretty good job of explaining it, minus the pussy, "you might die from this" safety warning. (Warning: If you drink beer responsibly, you could die from being a complete pussy. Who wants that?)
I also disagree with some other issues in this video.
-Very poor hole-stabbing technique ("That's what she said."). The best way to shotgun was first introduced to me by Sam Horwitz, a person I am beginning to think I invented in my head so I could pretend I knew a Jewish person. Anyway, he showed me during Thanksgiving Break freshman year how to create the puncture hole in the bottom of the can with your finger. You just turn the can over, turn the can back towards right-side-up, locate the air bubble as it moves up the can, and jam your finger in. Should work like a charm (This guy shows you how). It doesn't always. In fact, often after I first learned this trick I would end up slicing my finger open. Ooops. At least alcohol kills all the germs.
-Use a key, not a knife. Now, I have simplified this approach, as I turn over the can, wait for the air bubble and puncture the can with my parent's house key. I think a key works better than a finger, and is certainly safer than a knife, but both work. Just apply steady pressure with a key after you have located the air bubble in the can, don't stab. Plus it reminds me of home.
Sure you can always stab beers alone or race a couple friends, but the only way to really get the full tailgate expirience is through the the BRO-GUN: It is the most common shotgun. A bunch of guys, hyped up, screaming, probably wearing body paint. They are gonna shotgun, they are going to peer pressure you into it, and if you are being a pussy and don't do it, you will watch and be impressed by them, because they have made this shotgun the center of attention for your parking row.
There isn't all whole lot of technique to the Bro, it is a smash-and-grab shotgun. It begins with a primal yell of "SHOTGUN. C'MON." Everyone grabs a beer, circles up, and takes turns stabbing their beer, often creating a fairly impressive spray, perhaps giving themselves or someone nearby a facial.
Everyone in the circle then has a "cheers" in the middle, yell something unintelligible and then powers down some Keystone at their own pace. Except, being Bros, everything is a little bit of a competition, so as soon as one person finishes their beer and chucks it to the ground, everyone picks up their pace to not look like a queer. But don't abandon your effort too soon, or else everyone will mock you for wasting beer, like a queer. It is a cruel cycle.
FAILGATES: I did not initially grasp the art of the shotgun, as before freshman year I still got confused exactly which hole was which (Wait, that may have been a different type of fail altogether?). At a party at my friend Mo's house once, while in a BRO-GUN, I accidentally turned my beer upside-down and opened the tab.
A great shotgun gone wrong occurred before the UNLV game last season. My parents were in town to tailgate and I also decided this was the perfect week to paint my body green and gold, as I had promised my friend Dusty I would do it. So right before painting ourselves green, my roommate Cheney and I also made Dusty honor his end of the deal, to shotgun a beer with us. But not just any beer, a tall boy PBR. Yes, 24 oz. of wonderful, 'Steak-in-a-can,' Blue Ribbon excellence.
A regular shotgun creates some apprehension, knowing that all that foam might fuck up your stomach's world, but a big-ass Pibber is a whole 'nother story. But being a true Bro and friend, Dusty stepped up to help Nate and I continue our good-luck stomach punishing.
And damnit if the bastard didn't kick our asses. Finishing probably 5 seconds ahead of me and not even taking a breath-pause, which I needed.
Still, almost as soon as he finished, he was bent over at the waist, struggling to breathe. And that was the day that Dusty puked in front of my parents, while I got drunk and painted myself green and gold. Welcome to CSU, family. I do have to give him props, because Dusty did rally.
Another great story involves my boy Fancy somehow puncturing his beer so poorly he swallowed some metal during his shotgun and had to force himself to vomit a piece of can up later. He is a special child.
(By the way, if anyone has any good Failgate stories of their own or wishes to remind me of one of my own that I forgot, please leave comments, e-mail or Facebook me)
Game analysis: Somehow SDSU has beaten CSU in blizzards several times in our history, so let's all hope for good weather.
And if we lose, I'm going to walk through my parking garage and break every single car window with a SDSU sticker, and there are a lot. No one wants to see that happen.
I don't know anything else, other than it is now 4:30a.m. and I am down 10 Natty Lights, so god bless and go Rams.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Pregaming Analysis: Ex-Christian University
*I ramble a bit on this one, I promise future installments in this series will be better and more humorous.
I probably won't have any real pre-game 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.
I will share my experiences tailgating before CSU games and give my impressions on the rival fans that we will be facing this week. There will be, of course, a few more Failgate stories than stories of great success.
Let me make one thing clear, I love Colorado State as much as anybody (short of Gary Ozzello and a select few other die-hards), but sometimes I still regret not trying to transfer to TCU. That is how awesome the 12 hours I spent on the TCU campus were.
I have wanted to go to TCU since 2005, when I (and distinguished Collegian writers Trevor Edy and Nick Piburn) made the 13-plus hour trip to TCU for the 2005 game, which actually could have been for the MWC championship. Due to some trouble with the law (something about an MIP and a traffic cone theft charge in the euphoria of the Utah goal-line stand game) I was unable to drive. Fortunately, Edy and Piburn were allowed to borrow a rental car (Chevy Impala, what?) and comped hotel rooms. Sadly, awesome Collegian planning forced us to stay in Bricktown (aka Boom! Oklahoma City /Xzibit) the night before the game, something I still regret to this day, even though their Hooters was excellent. The next morning we traveled the rest of the way to Fort Worth, and due to their Collegian jobs, my friends had to go to the press box, leaving me to Failgate alone.
What did I learn? That if you get a chance to go to TCU, fucking go, doggy. Why?
Because Texas girls are hot and plentiful: I plan on one day marrying a girl from Texas. I love everything about them. They are nice, smile a lot, have that southern charm and drawl, know how to cook, are hot, etc. And of any place I have ever visited, TCU has the hottest, and most, girls.
The school is about 9,000 students, and about 60% are girls. Hot, Texas born and bred (read: rich) girls. Girls that traveled around in packs at the game and seemingly ambushed me from every direction. I'm not knocking CSU girls, we make them fine, but that was the first time that I ever felt like I was the target. At CSU the bars and parties are usually more guys than girls, especially more guys than attractive girls. At TCU, the girls outnumbered the guys everywhere I looked. Put one guy with two girls, and you can almost guarantee that the girls will get catty fighting for the attention. Put about ten girls to three guys and you have fucking Shark Week.
I got to feel like Sharkbait (Fantasy Factory y'all) as these roving packs of ten sorority girls trolled around handing out pink ribbons (for breast cancer). They would give me the ribbon, we would chat about breasts, the game, the school, and I would tell them that my sister was in their sister sorority (even if she wasn't). Then, when they moved on, I would take off the ribbon, put it in my pocket (probably a dick move), and wait for the next group to come along. In an hour's time of doing this I collected about 12 ribbons and didn't see one group twice.
The people other than the hot girls are also usually pretty entertaining:
At this point in my life when I took this trip, all I knew about Texans were that they invaded Colorado in the winter to ski in blue jeans, thought they were pretty special, liked to drink, were fairly racist and couldn't drive worth shit. Now, four years, two visits, two Texan roommates and a slew of Texan friends later, I have learned a bunch about the state, and I realize that I was pretty much on the money initially. Here are the five things I know for certain about Texans, in addition to the hot women.
1) Texans are very friendly: So friendly, in fact, that drivers will sometimes pull onto the shoulder to let you pass. This is awesome. I now live in Cali, and people pass you on the shoulders while flipping you off with both hands. People at TCU would just come up to meet while I was tailgating alone, decked out in CSU gear, and be genuinely excited to have a conversation. TCU fans wished me and my team luck. It was a little bit disorienting, as they are almost overly nice.
2)Texans love beer: and are pretty liberal about the rules. It is one of the few things Texans are liberal about, other than the 'lectric chair and gun control. But it is awesome to find a place where you can drink your beer in the parking lot without wristband Nazi's stalking you or cops forcing you to poor out your Captain Morgan (all right, it was actually Admiral Nelson, you know I'm cheap).
And they probably won't have a DUI checkpoint leaving the game, because I don't believe they have DUI's in Texas. A certain former roommate of mine told me about wrecking his truck while hammered, and the cop figured that the crash had "taught him his lesson," so he charged him with Obstruction of a Highway. He learned his lesson all right, so well that he later picked up a DUI in Colorado, when upon leaving one of our party's, he hit our house, hit three cars (two in our driveway, one in our neighbors) and almost ran me over while I tried stop him from driving...too the fucking liquor store to buy more Keystone Ice (He, thankfully, has fully learned his lesson this time).
So maybe they are a little too lax on this in Texas, but you know, everything is bigger there, even the legal limit.
3) Texans talk a big religious game... but they don't really back it up. Some may see this as negative, but I like it. Texans say they are God-fearing, and I think generally want to believe it, but theycan't don't really read the bible (too busy learning the state cactus or how to take a horseshoe dip of Cope).
Instead they are really more immoral than almost any other group of people, yet not on the surface. It is not like you are visiting Las Vegas or Vice City, some place where a lack of convictions are flaunted to the point it is almost disgusting. Texans have this nice and clean surface, and they work to keep it that way, but with just a little coaxing they abandon all pretense.
It is Texas Christian University, but as I was told repeatedly by people after a couple of drinks, "We no longer have any religious ties." Awesome, but I still bet your father feels a little safer sending his little girl to a school with Christ in the name, even if it is common knowledge that he peaced out years ago.
4) Texans are not shy: They are who you thought they are, as Denny Green would say. Again, this is one of those positives that can quickly switch negative, but it sure makes conversations easier. Ask a question, and just wait for the opinions to roll out. Everyone is a little country, not concerned with being rude, and almost certainly...
5) Texans are racist: This is not a secret, but it still shocks me just how unabashed Texans are about it. It is just inherent. Words (specifically the N-word) that are off-limits will be tossed around like candy, and you will be the weird one for noticing. Whenever I ask my Texas friends about this most deny that they are actually racist, and take great pride in making it clear that they have black or Mexican friends. It is just that this is the way they grew up talking and they won't change now (Texans are also very stubborn).
Failgate: About three hours before gametime, after I spilled a beer on my lap when I was attempting to pour it into a 7-11 cup, thinking that I had to hide my drinking from the law. I was in enough legal trouble at the time from stealing a traffic cone after the Utah goal-line stand (another Failgate altogether), yet somehow I thought that sitting behind the wheel of a car and drinking equated a low profile.It made sense at the time. After letting my pants to dry off with the car's fans pointed directly at my crotch (a wonderful sensation) while I drank three beers, I decided to say fuck it and go mingle. It was a fairly warm day, and no one noticed. Or everyone was too late to point it out.
A year later, a certain journalist (who may have been at this TCU game) claims to have had a similar Failgate, but all those who witnessed it said that he actually pissed himself Miles Davis-style. There are pictures on Facebook of everyone pointing at his soiled pants. Glad no one was with me to make it any more embarrassing.
I swear to you that all future Failgate stories will be better and much more embarrassing for me.
Here is my quick, actual game analysis:
I don't think CSU has a realistic shot. I do think that they will cover the 20-ish point spread, and I hope that they finally put together a full game and pull off the third biggest win in program history (No. 1: Arizona in 1994, No. 2: CU in 2002). But I just don't see it happening.
We will need Mason over 150 yards, Mosure with at least one big (40+ yards) play, Greer to use Stick-em instead of Crisco, Stucker to not throw to the purple guys and a hell of a defensive effort. And a great deal of luck.
Still, good luck Rams.
I probably won't have any real pre-game 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.
I will share my experiences tailgating before CSU games and give my impressions on the rival fans that we will be facing this week. There will be, of course, a few more Failgate stories than stories of great success.
Let me make one thing clear, I love Colorado State as much as anybody (short of Gary Ozzello and a select few other die-hards), but sometimes I still regret not trying to transfer to TCU. That is how awesome the 12 hours I spent on the TCU campus were.
I have wanted to go to TCU since 2005, when I (and distinguished Collegian writers Trevor Edy and Nick Piburn) made the 13-plus hour trip to TCU for the 2005 game, which actually could have been for the MWC championship. Due to some trouble with the law (something about an MIP and a traffic cone theft charge in the euphoria of the Utah goal-line stand game) I was unable to drive. Fortunately, Edy and Piburn were allowed to borrow a rental car (Chevy Impala, what?) and comped hotel rooms. Sadly, awesome Collegian planning forced us to stay in Bricktown (aka Boom! Oklahoma City /Xzibit) the night before the game, something I still regret to this day, even though their Hooters was excellent. The next morning we traveled the rest of the way to Fort Worth, and due to their Collegian jobs, my friends had to go to the press box, leaving me to Failgate alone.
What did I learn? That if you get a chance to go to TCU, fucking go, doggy. Why?
Because Texas girls are hot and plentiful: I plan on one day marrying a girl from Texas. I love everything about them. They are nice, smile a lot, have that southern charm and drawl, know how to cook, are hot, etc. And of any place I have ever visited, TCU has the hottest, and most, girls.
The school is about 9,000 students, and about 60% are girls. Hot, Texas born and bred (read: rich) girls. Girls that traveled around in packs at the game and seemingly ambushed me from every direction. I'm not knocking CSU girls, we make them fine, but that was the first time that I ever felt like I was the target. At CSU the bars and parties are usually more guys than girls, especially more guys than attractive girls. At TCU, the girls outnumbered the guys everywhere I looked. Put one guy with two girls, and you can almost guarantee that the girls will get catty fighting for the attention. Put about ten girls to three guys and you have fucking Shark Week.
I got to feel like Sharkbait (Fantasy Factory y'all) as these roving packs of ten sorority girls trolled around handing out pink ribbons (for breast cancer). They would give me the ribbon, we would chat about breasts, the game, the school, and I would tell them that my sister was in their sister sorority (even if she wasn't). Then, when they moved on, I would take off the ribbon, put it in my pocket (probably a dick move), and wait for the next group to come along. In an hour's time of doing this I collected about 12 ribbons and didn't see one group twice.
The people other than the hot girls are also usually pretty entertaining:
At this point in my life when I took this trip, all I knew about Texans were that they invaded Colorado in the winter to ski in blue jeans, thought they were pretty special, liked to drink, were fairly racist and couldn't drive worth shit. Now, four years, two visits, two Texan roommates and a slew of Texan friends later, I have learned a bunch about the state, and I realize that I was pretty much on the money initially. Here are the five things I know for certain about Texans, in addition to the hot women.
1) Texans are very friendly: So friendly, in fact, that drivers will sometimes pull onto the shoulder to let you pass. This is awesome. I now live in Cali, and people pass you on the shoulders while flipping you off with both hands. People at TCU would just come up to meet while I was tailgating alone, decked out in CSU gear, and be genuinely excited to have a conversation. TCU fans wished me and my team luck. It was a little bit disorienting, as they are almost overly nice.
2)Texans love beer: and are pretty liberal about the rules. It is one of the few things Texans are liberal about, other than the 'lectric chair and gun control. But it is awesome to find a place where you can drink your beer in the parking lot without wristband Nazi's stalking you or cops forcing you to poor out your Captain Morgan (all right, it was actually Admiral Nelson, you know I'm cheap).
And they probably won't have a DUI checkpoint leaving the game, because I don't believe they have DUI's in Texas. A certain former roommate of mine told me about wrecking his truck while hammered, and the cop figured that the crash had "taught him his lesson," so he charged him with Obstruction of a Highway. He learned his lesson all right, so well that he later picked up a DUI in Colorado, when upon leaving one of our party's, he hit our house, hit three cars (two in our driveway, one in our neighbors) and almost ran me over while I tried stop him from driving...too the fucking liquor store to buy more Keystone Ice (He, thankfully, has fully learned his lesson this time).
So maybe they are a little too lax on this in Texas, but you know, everything is bigger there, even the legal limit.
3) Texans talk a big religious game... but they don't really back it up. Some may see this as negative, but I like it. Texans say they are God-fearing, and I think generally want to believe it, but they
Instead they are really more immoral than almost any other group of people, yet not on the surface. It is not like you are visiting Las Vegas or Vice City, some place where a lack of convictions are flaunted to the point it is almost disgusting. Texans have this nice and clean surface, and they work to keep it that way, but with just a little coaxing they abandon all pretense.
It is Texas Christian University, but as I was told repeatedly by people after a couple of drinks, "We no longer have any religious ties." Awesome, but I still bet your father feels a little safer sending his little girl to a school with Christ in the name, even if it is common knowledge that he peaced out years ago.
4) Texans are not shy: They are who you thought they are, as Denny Green would say. Again, this is one of those positives that can quickly switch negative, but it sure makes conversations easier. Ask a question, and just wait for the opinions to roll out. Everyone is a little country, not concerned with being rude, and almost certainly...
5) Texans are racist: This is not a secret, but it still shocks me just how unabashed Texans are about it. It is just inherent. Words (specifically the N-word) that are off-limits will be tossed around like candy, and you will be the weird one for noticing. Whenever I ask my Texas friends about this most deny that they are actually racist, and take great pride in making it clear that they have black or Mexican friends. It is just that this is the way they grew up talking and they won't change now (Texans are also very stubborn).
Failgate: About three hours before gametime, after I spilled a beer on my lap when I was attempting to pour it into a 7-11 cup, thinking that I had to hide my drinking from the law. I was in enough legal trouble at the time from stealing a traffic cone after the Utah goal-line stand (another Failgate altogether), yet somehow I thought that sitting behind the wheel of a car and drinking equated a low profile.It made sense at the time. After letting my pants to dry off with the car's fans pointed directly at my crotch (a wonderful sensation) while I drank three beers, I decided to say fuck it and go mingle. It was a fairly warm day, and no one noticed. Or everyone was too late to point it out.
A year later, a certain journalist (who may have been at this TCU game) claims to have had a similar Failgate, but all those who witnessed it said that he actually pissed himself Miles Davis-style. There are pictures on Facebook of everyone pointing at his soiled pants. Glad no one was with me to make it any more embarrassing.
I swear to you that all future Failgate stories will be better and much more embarrassing for me.
Here is my quick, actual game analysis:
I don't think CSU has a realistic shot. I do think that they will cover the 20-ish point spread, and I hope that they finally put together a full game and pull off the third biggest win in program history (No. 1: Arizona in 1994, No. 2: CU in 2002). But I just don't see it happening.
We will need Mason over 150 yards, Mosure with at least one big (40+ yards) play, Greer to use Stick-em instead of Crisco, Stucker to not throw to the purple guys and a hell of a defensive effort. And a great deal of luck.
Still, good luck Rams.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
You can pry the PBR from my cold, dead hands...
I have a hard time working up the same hatred for BYU as I do the Raiders. No Momo has ever really bothered me that much in person (and I love me some "Momo" Thomas) and most of the times BYU kicked the shit out of CSU and ran up the score happened before I was born. But then I remember Mormons abject hatred of alcohol, and it starts getting me worked up.
Don't get me wrong, I don't expect everyone to drink as much as I do and I know some people should not drink (we call them quitters, hobos and Native Americans), but just because you can't handle shotgunning a few 24oz PBRs at 10a.m., doesn't mean you shouldn't infringe on my right to drink Red, White and delicious beer through a sharp and dangerous slit in a can until I vomit foam.
It is kinda like gun rights activists and thir claims. "Fine, be a pussy and don't own a pistol, that is fine. Just don't expect me to leave my M-16 assault rifle at home (thanks to The Goddammed Awesome Second Amendment) when I come to this simple public forum to discuss the fact that you lawless socialists are trying to outsource my insurance to Pakistan or whatever the fuck your Kenyan president wants to do." [maybe not my best allusion, but you get the point]
I can accept the fact thatUtahians? Utahans, Utards, people from the state of Utah, Utards look down on me even, but don't make it obvious. You guys have flaws too (I've seen Big Love, you people are sick), so please stop shaking your head and muttering to your children when you pass me in the parking lot.
And for the love of God and Joey Smith, please don't restrict my ability to drink so damn stringently in your bars. I would like to have a shot with a beer back. Not to have a shot, then have to order a beer and wait for you to grab it from the kitchen. I would like to drink a beer while contemplating what shitty entree to order at Applebees, but you assholes won't even take my drink order until I have ordered my food.
"Wench! I must be hammered to eat your to eat your nuked Hickory Smokehouse burger. I didn't want to come here anyway, unfortunately it is the only place open after 7p.m. on a Saturday."
My family always used to travel through Utah on spring break (Woooo! Sedona '96) and I always just wanted to watch the first couple rounds of the NCAA Tournament during our stops, but your archaic laws forbade my 10-year old ass from sitting in the bar areas and watching TV, because I might be corrupted. Fuck you guys.
Add on the fact that your whitebread ass teams always manage to get all the calls from the refs (Tommie Hill is still traumatized after last year's mugging/raping that was uncalled on the last drive) and that you, holier-than-though fans, are the second most vile in the conference (New Mexico folks are just plain angry, Wyo too dumb to count). It makes me hope that we can put a nice pounding on you bastards. A pounding that makes Lavell Edwards bust out this face (Whoa, Bitter beer face):
Prediction:
To have any real chance to win CSU is going to need to control the ball and dominate the line of scrimmage. The Rams should be able to, and hopefully will have Shelly Smith back to wreck house. I want to see John Mosure left, Mosure right, and Mosure faking to Mason then going right up the gut (Wildcat, bitches).
Also, I want to see more Ryan Gardner action. A big ass play against Boulder showed me he has cured those alligator arms from last year, now just refrain from going all agro with the celebrations. A third weapon in the passing game to take the pressure off Dion Morton and Rashaun Greer would be nice.
Defense just better get after Max Hall's ass. If you can pressure him he breaks down. He might beat us for a couple big plays, but I would rather that than have him pick us apart like last year. Hopefully we can get some turnovers and get up big on BYU early, and I think that they will unravel. The one thing we can't afford is for them to get off to a quick start.
I have faith in Coach Fair, and I think the Rams take this one 35-27. Grant Stucker has his best game stats wise, going 14-22-230 yards with 2 tds passing (one long one to Gardner) and no picks. He adds a rushing td. Mosure picks up a buck-twenty and Lou Greenwood breaks a biggy.
I also predict Elijah-Blu Smith knocks two people into Scotty McKnightland.
Don't get me wrong, I don't expect everyone to drink as much as I do and I know some people should not drink (we call them quitters, hobos and Native Americans), but just because you can't handle shotgunning a few 24oz PBRs at 10a.m., doesn't mean you shouldn't infringe on my right to drink Red, White and delicious beer through a sharp and dangerous slit in a can until I vomit foam.
It is kinda like gun rights activists and thir claims. "Fine, be a pussy and don't own a pistol, that is fine. Just don't expect me to leave my M-16 assault rifle at home (thanks to The Goddammed Awesome Second Amendment) when I come to this simple public forum to discuss the fact that you lawless socialists are trying to outsource my insurance to Pakistan or whatever the fuck your Kenyan president wants to do." [maybe not my best allusion, but you get the point]
I can accept the fact that
And for the love of God and Joey Smith, please don't restrict my ability to drink so damn stringently in your bars. I would like to have a shot with a beer back. Not to have a shot, then have to order a beer and wait for you to grab it from the kitchen. I would like to drink a beer while contemplating what shitty entree to order at Applebees, but you assholes won't even take my drink order until I have ordered my food.
"Wench! I must be hammered to eat your to eat your nuked Hickory Smokehouse burger. I didn't want to come here anyway, unfortunately it is the only place open after 7p.m. on a Saturday."
My family always used to travel through Utah on spring break (Woooo! Sedona '96) and I always just wanted to watch the first couple rounds of the NCAA Tournament during our stops, but your archaic laws forbade my 10-year old ass from sitting in the bar areas and watching TV, because I might be corrupted. Fuck you guys.
Add on the fact that your whitebread ass teams always manage to get all the calls from the refs (Tommie Hill is still traumatized after last year's mugging/raping that was uncalled on the last drive) and that you, holier-than-though fans, are the second most vile in the conference (New Mexico folks are just plain angry, Wyo too dumb to count). It makes me hope that we can put a nice pounding on you bastards. A pounding that makes Lavell Edwards bust out this face (Whoa, Bitter beer face):
Prediction:
To have any real chance to win CSU is going to need to control the ball and dominate the line of scrimmage. The Rams should be able to, and hopefully will have Shelly Smith back to wreck house. I want to see John Mosure left, Mosure right, and Mosure faking to Mason then going right up the gut (Wildcat, bitches).
Also, I want to see more Ryan Gardner action. A big ass play against Boulder showed me he has cured those alligator arms from last year, now just refrain from going all agro with the celebrations. A third weapon in the passing game to take the pressure off Dion Morton and Rashaun Greer would be nice.
Defense just better get after Max Hall's ass. If you can pressure him he breaks down. He might beat us for a couple big plays, but I would rather that than have him pick us apart like last year. Hopefully we can get some turnovers and get up big on BYU early, and I think that they will unravel. The one thing we can't afford is for them to get off to a quick start.
I have faith in Coach Fair, and I think the Rams take this one 35-27. Grant Stucker has his best game stats wise, going 14-22-230 yards with 2 tds passing (one long one to Gardner) and no picks. He adds a rushing td. Mosure picks up a buck-twenty and Lou Greenwood breaks a biggy.
I also predict Elijah-Blu Smith knocks two people into Scotty McKnightland.
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