A Completely Subjective Trip to Gainesville

Going to any game in Gainesville is difficult for me because it's hard to separate the fond memories of the present from the difficult memories of the past. Ah, the corner where I hit a girl on a bike with a car; oh, and look, the laundromat where I once did laundry, only to discover I was completely broke, and in fact had to carry fifteen pounds of sopping wet clothing out to the car. And the dorm where I once vomited two bottles of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill and a spaghetti dinner all over the men's bathroom! Ah, memories.

Fortunately, I block out the past with a disciplined focus on the present and the help of non-prescription medication purchased easily at any local package store. There was ample medication flowing in Gainesville Saturday. And plenty of things only possible under its influence.

Like what? Like the Most Unsafe Vehicle in the History of the Universe, for example.

It would take three years of old-school Soviet engineering to create a vehicle as riotously unsafe as the party bus owned by some Florida students that dominated the scene at the crossroads of University and 13th Street on Gameday. A converted Blue Bird school bus that the students who own it bought from a "couple of rednecks who did a lot of the work you see," it features a deck sort of haphazardly bolted to the roof, a series of orange and blue-clad benches in the middle, and an enormous flagpole attached to the side.

I climbed on top of it and determined that, in the event of an accident, the crash rating of the vehicle would be "Metal Pinata." But everyone seemed to be having a fine time, especially these guys.

The tailgating scene in Gainesville has no central locus like "the Grove" at Ole Miss, nor the lunatic intensity of LSU fans, who show up three weeks before and hook up their tailgates to utility lines on campus while putting in landscaping. It's decentralized and heavy on booze, beer pong, and festooning your setup with as much orange and blue nonsense as possible, up to and including gators both figurative ...

... and literal.

Note: the guy with the live baby gator told me "Don't really put your lips on it," which should really just be your advice at every step of a Saturday tailgate. Don't put your lips directly on anything except a beer or red solo cup, and you'll be fine. Continuing down University Avenue, you'll also find that if LSU fans are around, they are astonishingly consistent in that they are loud, boisterous, profane, and just as uncontrollable in your town as in their own. I interrupted the following scene to get a picture of this guy's head. Note: conversation is loosely translated to allow for family reading.

Drunken Florida Fan: You're a (homosexual)!

Drunken LSU Fan: Hey, come say that to my face, (homosexual)!

Drunken and now confused Florida fan: I'm in your face, um, and ... you're a (flocking) (homosexual)!

Drunken LSU fan: WELL LET'S SEE WHEN I KICK YOUR ---

Me: Hey, can I take a picture of the back of your head?

Drunken LSU Fan, very politely: "Oh, yeah. Sure."

Then I walked very quickly away while they continued their discussion. Inside the stadium I met a real and genuine celebrity, though: Kelsey White, who you may know better as "Sneaux White," the woman who dresses up as a purple and yellow version of Snow White for every LSU game. She seemed frightened, and given the suddenly intense vibe in Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, I don't blame her for jolting when I asked her for a picture in line at the concessions stand outside gate 42. And, of course, she probably thought I was Rainn Wilson.

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.