Southeastern Conference football has always been a large part of my life. Every once in a while, I have to be reminded why it matters so much to me. And after my pilgrimage to Gainesville, Fla. this weekend to take in the Florida-Tennessee game, one fact has been confirmed yet again: SEC football is just a whole 'nother ball game.
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The back of my dad's Florida Gator T-shirt reads, "Football: In the East, it's a cultural exercise. On the West Coast, it's a tourist attraction. In Texas, it's the Big Stakes. In the Midwest, it's a slugfest. But in the South, it's a way of life. Florida football: the Southern way of life."
My dad and I were picked up in the Tampa airport Friday evening by my grandparents, who have had season tickets to Florida games at the Swamp for infinite years, and my 13-year-old cousin, Chester, who has infinite years' worth of knowledge about Florida football as well as a mouth that will say anything that's on his mind. We were met with hugs by my grandparents and questions from Chester such as, "Who do ya'll think will start [for Tennessee] at QB, Clausen or Ainge? Do you think we'll be able to stop [running back] Riggs? Are we sitting together at the game?"
That night, we stayed at my grandparents' cozy house in Lakeland, where Chester and I stayed up late (read: 11 p.m.) discussing Florida's chances the next day against the insufferable Volunteers. The talk ended with Chester declaring that losing to the dastardly Vols "would be a sign of the apocalypse." I nodded in agreement. The battle lines were drawn.
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"If you're not a Gator, you're Gator bait."
At six the next morning, Chester was up putting the final touches on my grandparents' Lincoln Mercury, the boat that would steer us to Gainesville on Saturday. (My granddad owns a 1992 Ford F150 that is painted blue and orange with "Gators" in cursive on both sides, but its lack of a functioning brake system forced us to find an alternative vehicle.) By the time young Chester was done, our silver boat had almost a dozen Gators magnets and accessories. There was no doubt where our allegiances lay.
Our gang of six embarked for the Swamp late in the morning. Roughly every third car that passed us on I-75 heading north had at least as many Gator accessories as our boat. We were amongst our kin. Chester and I booed the few cars that were covered with despicable Tennessee garb.
By the time we reached Gainesville around 2:30 p.m. (for the 8 p.m. game), we were late for the tailgates by about two days. Florida fans in RVs littered the campus, many of which probably had arrived by the previous Wednesday or Thursday. We enjoyed our own tailgate, eating smoked ribs and watching other college football games (read: warm-ups to our game), and roamed the campus, getting pumped up for the game. Chester and I entered the Swamp almost an hour before the game. We had to squeeze down our packed row (row 85) to get to our seats. We were clearly late.
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"Good Old Rocky Top, woo! Second in the SEC!"
All the pre-game hoopla SEC fans put on is not what makes SEC football so special, however. Truly, it's the game that makes the difference.
It was a swampy, muggy night that felt suffocating, or what we referred to as "perfect." The band started cheers, the students started cheers and an old man in a seer-sucker suit started cheers -- all before kickoff. The record crowd of 90,716 hung on every play, cheer and horrible inside running play Florida coach Urban Meyer called. My ears never stopped ringing. Fans in our section were never pleased. According to one fella who looked eerily similar to Biff from "Back to the Future," Meyer called too many "cute" running plays, didn't utilize his All-American receivers and doesn't know how to coach in the SEC. Biff was practically pleading for former coach Ron Zook, whose head he probably wanted on a silver platter last year. Chester declared the apocalypse upon us at least four times -- and the Gators led the entire game. Needless to say, when 0:00 hit the clock and Florida had won 16-7, we all stood, screaming manically, "It's great to be a Flor-i-da Gator!"
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"Gator born and Gator bred, and when I die, I'll be Gator dead."
As the Gators moved to 6-0 lifetime when I'm in attendance (including three wins over the hated Vols), I remember why the SEC reigns supreme.
It's in my blood, it's my way of life.
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