Category: Games (Page 12 of 22)

Oregon vs UCLA – Ducks squeak by the Bruins…

November 7, 2013 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

After an epic trip to Oregon State last year, I immediately started planning another trip to the Beaver State to check out the fleet footed fluorescent older brother in town. The Oregon Ducks, with their high powered, up tempo offense and garish uniform ensembles was one of the premier football destinations I had yet to check off my list. My friend, and Oregon native Colin, and I poured over the Ducks home schedule nearly a year ago, carefully selecting the UCLA Bruins tilt as the marquee matchup in Eugene for 2013. Our predictions were confirmed, when, after both teams enjoyed a terrific start to the 2013 season, the ESPN Gameday crew selected the #3 Oregon Ducks versus #12 UCLA Bruins for their weekly destination.

Colin and I touch down in Portland early, and after a trip to the rental car counter for a sporty Chevy Malibu we hustle into downtown Portland for lunch at Pok Pok. An iconic Vietnamese restaurant that has gained considerable notoriety in food circles, we order up a wide selection of their diverse Asian menu offerings. Obviously, in keeping with my protein heavy BBQ consumption, I contribute orders for their crispy chicken wings and baby back ribs.

From there, we opt for a downtown dessert at the Portland institution of Voodoo Donuts where they serve up everything from plain donuts to eclectic, pink frosted, Captain Crunch covered pancreas busters. I opt for the “Old Dirty Bastard” donut – a peanut butter and Oreo covered chocolate frosted donut. Colin and I retreat to a table outside with Voodoo’s iconic pink box in tow, which, according to their catch phrase, “Good things come in pink boxes”.

After picking up our third party member Donovan at the airport that afternoon, we head to Beaverton, Oregon – home of Nike. Colin’s cousin Rob has agreed to give us an insider tour of the facilities, a sprawling 200 acre campus complete with lakes, full size playing fields and scores of sparkling new white buildings. Not bad for a company that was started in famed Oregon track coach Bill Bowerman’s kitchen with little more than a waffle iron. Each building is named after a famous athlete – Jordan, Griffey Jr., Tiger Woods, etc. – and bronze plaques of professional athletes line the walkways every few feet. Every step you take at Nike is in the presence of athletic greatness, and there are dozens of displays dedicated to the historical achievements of the company and the athletes that inspired them.

Naturally, we finish our tour at the Nike Company Store. Accessible only to Nike employees and registered guests, all products are available at a 50% discount from retail. Collectively, we load several shopping carts full of bright, fluorescent stretch fabrics and signature Nike orange shoe boxes. Between the 50% discount, and no state sales tax in Oregon, it’s an impressive haul for the money.

Saturday morning is an early wake up call. Our friend Donovan is an avid ESPN College Gameday fan, and this will be his first opportunity to check out the zany, headgear selecting antics of Lee Corso in person. Regardless of where the show is filmed, it airs at 9AM eastern standard time, as such we rise at 5:30 AM to make the quick jaunt south into Eugene in time for the show. In a typical early morning Oregon “mist”, we pack into the crowded lawn in front of the Lundquist College of Business while the TV personalities go through their typical pre game analysis. Unsatisfied with the level of attention we’re getting in the dense crowd, I hoist Donovans 185lb. frame onto my shoulders while he frantically waves his neon yellow sign. After a few minutes of mounting lower back fatigue, the tactic pays off, and Donovan becomes clearly visible on the TV feed between the talking heads. Soon after I set him down, Lee Corso speeds off through the crowd on the back of the Oregon Ducks motorcycle after making his selection, signaling the end of the show. Check one off the bucket list for Donovan.

After the ESPN Gameday hoopla, we tour the sprawling, lush green Eugene campus. The tour is highlighted by a visit to Hayward Field, home to the Oregon Track and Field team, a Mecca for any running aficionado. With grandstands capable of holding over 10,000 fans, it’s one of only four International Class 1 tracks in the United States. Host to several Olympic qualifying events and countless American records, the rubberized oval is where legendary head coach Bill Bowerman presided over some of the most gifted runners in the world. A bronze statue of him standing atop a waffle iron hovers on the sidelines, the inscription reading “Teacher, Innovator, Visionary, Motivator…and then there was that waffle iron.”

No visit to Oregon track, however, would be complete without a mention of Coos Bay, Oregon native Steve Prefontaine. An incredibly gifted middle distance runner in the early 1970’s, Prefontaine once held the American records in 7 different middle distance events from 2,000 to 10,000 meters. His exploits have even been chronicled in two major movies; “Without Limits” and “Prefontaine” made some 25 years after his career ended. But it wasn’t his god given ability that Pre was known for, it was his intestinal fortitude or, quite simply Guts. Some of his quotes have inspired runners for decades since his early demise, including his most remarkable “To give anything less than your best, is to sacrifice the gift”.

Arguably the most famous Oregon Ducks athlete in history, the relationship between Pre, Nike, and the University of Oregon are all inexorably intertwined. A “Track Town USA” banner hangs above Hayward field, with Prefontaine’s image overlooking the oval. And his famous quote “A lot of people run a race to see who is fastest. I run to see who has the most guts” is emblazoned in large letters above the doors in the Nike company store. We pay a visit to Pre’s Rock, the site of his fatal car crash in 1975 that tragically ended his life at age 24. A small stone plaque with his image stands at the site, and runners continually leave sneakers, jerseys and other tokens of remembrance in his honor.

From there, we file into Rennie’s Landing, a homey, two story pub in the heart of Eugene for some mid morning refreshment. Sliding into a few empty wooden tables, it’s a token college town saloon. A few flat screen TV’s flash away in the corner, and an impressive selection of Oregonian microbrews line the taps. Naturally, we kick the morning off with a round of Irish Car Bombs prior to sampling a handful of offerings from Deschutes, Widmer and Ninkasi breweries. The hours pass quickly in good company, and shortly after popping the last cheesy bacon tater tot into my mouth, we’re off to the stadium where a late afternoon kickoff awaits.

As the game kicks off, Autzen roars to life. This place gets loud, L-O-U-D. It’s among the loudest stadiums I have ever been in, which given the modest size of the venue (60,000 capacity), speaks to an ardent fan base. Having visited about half the Pac 12 by now, I was expecting the casual, aloof, “whatever brah” West Coast attitude that permeates the culture at some of the other venues. Not so at Oregon. These people are passionate, boisterous, continually on their feet and screaming themselves hoarse for as long as the game remains competitive (which, to be fair, usually isn’t long in Eugene). The raucous atmosphere in Autzen is among the best that college football has to offer.

On the field, the game proves more competitive than a typical Ducks contest, most of which are blowouts midway through the second quarter. The fast tempo Ducks offense sputters, as UCLA plays impressive containment defense and forces a couple of fumbles from the Oregon ground attack. At halftime the score is knotted at 14, and despite UCLA’s lofty #12 ranking, Ducks fans stand bewildered at the close score. They’re a spoiled bunch in Autzen….

As the second half winds on, Oregon starts gaining momentum. Heisman contenting quarterback Marcus Mariota starts finding his rhythm as the UCLA defense starts to tire against the breakneck pace. Finally, in the fourth quarter, the Ducks blow the game open and the route is on. Mariota connects with WR Bralon Addison for a touchdown, and shortly thereafter speedy tailback Byron Marshall rumbles for his third touchdown on the day. The hapless UCLA defense is smoked, and great gashes open up for the Ducks to pour through. Oregon lights up the scoreboard for 21 points in the fourth frame, and skates away in their customary blowout fashion with a final tally of 42-14.

In the end, Oregon is easily the best venue I have visited in the Pac 12 thus far and it would take a goliath effort from some of the remaining schools to unseat them. For the past few years, they have dominated competition in the conference with their unique brand of hurry-up, explosive offense, and oft overlooked stout defense. The roar of Autzen Stadium is like watching a game from inside a jet engine, and the Oregon faithful are a rowdy, boisterous bunch. Even the town of Eugene has a charmingly smaller, college town vibe solely dedicated to supporting the Ducks. The University of Oregon is truly a sublime Saturday experience in the Pac 12. Now if only they could convince Phil Knight to tone down those jerseys…

Thanks to Rob and Nozomi for giving us the full tour of both Nike and Eugene, and being such incredible tour guides the entire weekend!

Thank you to Ruth for the gracious hospitality, and allowing me to visit Oregon once again. Can’t wait for some more pies next year!

Thank you to Donovan for prodding us out of bed early on Saturday, buying way too many shots, and making the trip an absolute blast.

Thanks of course to Colin for another amazing Beaver State experience, can’t wait to see what we plan for next year man!

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Tennessee vs South Carolina – Finishing the SEC in Volunteer style…

October 29, 2013 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

Friday morning my father wrangles me out of bed at 5:30 AM. As I wrestle with consciousness it eerily reminds me of high school. An early riser, he’s already spit polished and ready to roll, wide eyed and giddy for a day of bourbon tasting. We jump into our silver Nissan Altima rental, a “double upgrade” according to the good folks at Enterprise at McGhee Tyson airport, and speed northward into the morning black. Winding up I-75 in the dense fog of early morning, we twist and turn through the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. On a clear day, with the sun poking over the mountains just beginning to rust with the color of fall, this would be a spectacular drive. But blanketed by fog, and dodging eighteen wheelers chugging up the hills, it’s a tedious ride.

Although were visiting the University of Tennessee for the weekend, my final remaining venue in the SEC, first we’re on a run to experience the “Bourbon Trail”. A collection of whiskey distilleries in the heart of Kentucky Bourbon country just south of Louisville, the trail connects a handful of the most iconic Bourbon distilleries in the country. Located about three hours from Knoxville, we’d been planning this trip for nearly a year. Buffalo Trace is our first stop, and we take a full tour of the grounds – the only free tour offered at any of the distilleries. Walking through the old brick warehouses, the wooden barrels arranged neatly in racks, the aroma is an intoxicating mix of whiskey, charred oak and sawn pine. The barrels here rise six full stories in the warehouse, left in the dark for years to slowly age into the caramel colored nectar.

When we finish in the tasting room, I ask the shopkeeper if they have any stray bottles of Pappy Van Winkle 20 year tucked away in a closet somewhere. Considered by many to be the finest bourbon made, it typically retails for over $250 per bottle – assuming you can ever find a bottle for sale. Figuring the best place to ask would be directly from the source at Buffalo Trace, perhaps I might win the lottery…

The shopkeeper chortles at my silly question: “You’d have better luck going into the woods and getting your picture taken with Sasquatch” he retorts. A simple no would have sufficed…

From there, we make a stop at Woodford Reserve and their immaculate grounds before motoring down the Bluegrass Parkway into Bardstown for lunch. The quaint little downtown is a haven for whiskey heads, as pubs tout long bourbon menus and a handful of liquor stores dot 3^rd Street. We settle into Mammy’s Kitchen for lunch, a converted turn of the century drug store with small tile floors and decorative square ceiling tins. I order up a “Hot Brown Sandwich”, the signature Kentucky dish that traces its roots back to the Brown Hotel in Louiville (see my original blog post about it HERE). Naturally, I order the dinner sized portion, and the gluttonous affair is a decadent pile of turkey, bacon, ham, and tomato all served open faced on toast points and smothered in rich parmesan sauce.

As if the massive sandwich weren’t enough, the waitress sells us on a slice of their scratch made chocolate cream pie. A recipe handed down from her great grandmother “Mammy”, the chocolate is so rich and intense that it resembles a gelatinous brownie, topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. Both chocolate fiends, my father and I slash forks for the last few bites so aggressively it makes Game of Thrones look like a Pixar movie.

After lunch we hit Willett distillery, turning up a rustic gravel drive into their parking lot. One of the few family owned distilleries (most of the others are owned by “big liquor” companies such as Jim Beam, Brown Forman, etc.), Willett is noticeably more rough around the edges. The steel clad warehouses show rust around them, there are tractors hauling grain around and the grounds aren’t the pristinely manicured putting greens like the other places. But they make a damn fine bourbon, and I grab a bottle of their elusive, limited release, 10 year old Single Barrel Family Estate to smuggle back to Saint Louis.

From there, our final stop on the day is Makers Mark. In a clear fall afternoon, the drive down the rolling green hills of State Road 49 is spectacular. Unfortunately, the iconic Loretto, Kentucky distillery is a mob scene when we get there. Hoping for a quiet Friday afternoon tour, the place is overrun with joggers decked out in silly outfits. Evidently, Makers Mark is a key stop along the “Bourbon Chase” an annual two day, team relay race that trots through the heart of Kentucky Bourbon country. We take a quick self guided tour of the operation (there are no formal tours because of the race), doing our best to avoid the fluorescent spandex garbed hordes pouring out of every building. We dip our fingers into the massive Cypress wood mash tubs, licking the sweet “beer” before it ferments into alcohol. After a quick glimpse of a 100 year old label cutter, we conclude the tour on the finishing line, where workers dip full bottles of Makers Mark into their signature red wax seal.

*****

Saturday morning proves to be yet another early wake up call, as the good folks at the SEC scheduling department elected to kickoff the Tennessee vs South Carolina matchup at noon EST. As you’ve heard my familiar refrain on this blog before, noon start times are a pox upon the festive world of college football, and a complete atmosphere killer. They are especially egregious at a preeminent destination like Tennessee, where pre game tailgating and traditions such as the “Volunteer Navy” are such an integral part of the game day experience.

I circle a few side streets on the hunt for free parking, but given the tight confines of urban Knoxville, I’m forced to pull into the Knoxville City-County building for $20. As a uniformed police officer waves me in, he asks to search the trunk of the vehicle. “Why do you need to search the trunk” I respond, curious about the questionable 4^th amendment breach. “In case you have any explosive devices in the trunk” the officer responds matter of factly. Although I typically mock overzealous security measures, evidently the building has been subject to a handful of bomb threats over the years, so the procedure is not entirely unfounded.

As we head towards campus, we walk past pockets of tailgating, orange tents and tables are shoehorned into every small parking lot and lawn between buildings. A few parties even spill out of the large parking garages dotting the city. Given the tight urban constraints of Knoxville, there simply aren’t the large swaths of parking and lawn that you’ll find surrounding other stadiums in the SEC and Volunteer fans are forced to squeeze a party into any small corner they can find. We stroll further down Cumberland Avenue, the major thoroughfare bisecting the UT campus, and the sidewalks grow thick with orange garbed gameday pedestrians.

The scalpers are out in full force too, but with tickets still available in the box office for face value, they have little room to negotiate. After surveying the market a few times and getting cussed out by one grey bearded old timer for bargaining too hard, I nail down a pair of seats on the 30 yard line for $80 apiece (lower than face at the box office). While I certainly could have done better if only looking for myself, negotiating pairs of tickets is a harder game to play.

Approaching the impressive brick façade of Neyland Stadium thousands of fans form a gauntlet on both sides of Phillip Fulmer Way, while the “Pride of the Southland” Tennessee marching band toots away on the steps of the Hearing and Speech Building. The street, named after national championship winning former head coach Phil Fulmer, is the site of the Tennessee Volunteers player walk. In keeping with many other SEC institutions, players walk down the avenue en route to the stadium while fans cheer boisterously alongside.

As we enter the cavernous bowl of Neyland Stadium and assume our seats, the atmosphere is noticeably subdued. The dreadful early start time coupled with a lackluster season thus far, clearly has the Volunteer fan base aloof. Players finish a few last warm-ups and head into the tunnel while the band takes the field. The band runs through a few formations, and belts out “Rocky Top” to pump the crowd up, the defacto fight song for the Volunteers. Finally, they assemble into their infamous “Power T” entrance, and shortly after the players burst out of the tunnel and run through the formation on their way to the bench. A quick coin toss and we’re ready for game time in Tennessee…

And what a hell of a game it is. For the 5^th game in a row, I catch an absolute barn burner of a contest. On paper, the game was supposed to be a blowout, as the South Carolina Gamecocks came into the contest ranked #10, and had reasonable expectations to win the SEC East Division. The match even starts out tenuously, as on the second Tennessee possession from scrimmage wide receiver Alton Howard gets absolutely annihilated by South Carolina’s sensational defensive end Jadaveon Clowney for a loss of 5 yards. As Clowney struts around, the restless Tennessee crowd shifts nervously in their seats on the play, wondering if this will be the start of a VERY long day.

But the Vols stand their ground. Quarterback Justin Worley fires crisp passes down the field, and the Tennessee defense shows remarkable resiliency. At halftime, the Volunteers own a 17-7 lead and the crowd swells with energy.

After the Pride of the Southland band performs their impressive halftime routine, the Gamecocks come out with renewed zest in the third quarter. Quarterback Connor Shaw leads Cocky on a pair of touchdown drives, and the South Carolina squad regains a 21-7 lead heading into the fourth quarter. The crowd deflates, Tennessee fans have become all too cynical over the past decade, and fourth quarter collapses have become the unfortunate norm for the prestigious program. A couple particularly pessimistic fans even head for the exits, confident they already know how the story is about to unfold.

Today, however, things are different. After booting a field goal with ten minutes remaining, the Volunteers have pulled themselves to within a point. Then, the Volunteer defense takes over. They stymie the Gamecocks on three separate drives late in the 4^th quarter, stuffing QB Connor Shaw into the turf on one such drive and knocking him out of the game. The defense shows remarkable poise each drive, stifling Steve Spurriers potent offense. Willed by the growing electricity in the stands, the orange garbed faithful rise to their feet.

As Tennessee assumes the ball with 2:48 remaining, they initiate their final offensive drive. After a few incompletions, Worley connects with wide receiver Marquez North on an incredible 39 yard bomb deep into South Carolina territory – well within field goal range. After a few running plays to squeeze the final ticks off the clock, Tennessee place kicker Michael Palardy nails a 19 yard chip shot to win the game as the clock expires. 95,000 fans erupt in celebration as the Volunteer bench empties onto the field. It’s the biggest win for Tennessee in since 2007, and the euphoric crowd belts out “Rocky Top” with a fervent muster pent up for nearly a decade.

In the end, after such a thrilling and intense game, Tennessee is unquestioningly one of the premiere destinations in the SEC. It’s a tradition rich program, in a fun town, with an enormous stadium and passionate fan base. While my visit was noticeably subdued, largely a function of an early start time and mediocre team, this is a program ready to bounce back. It has all the ingredients to reassert itself in the top echelon of the SEC, and with some of the right personnel decisions, I wouldn’t be surprised to see it rebound in the next few years. And I for one can’t wait to head back to Knoxville for a huge tilt when the Vols are sitting atop Rocky Top once again…

Special thanks to my father for joining me for another year of adventure. It’s always a special weekend to spend with your Dad drinking whiskey and watching football…

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Ole Miss vs Texas A&M – Aggies quell the Rebel uprising…

October 24, 2013 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

It’s late Friday afternoon, and four of us are cramped into my friend Colin’s Audi A4 barreling south down I-55 from Saint Louis. We’re on our way to Mississippi this weekend, for a healthy dose of SEC football and southern hospitality. Colin mans the wheel while I navigate, our friends Elon and Chris are camped in the backseats and the trunk is loaded with tailgating provisions. Living in the metro Saint Louis area it’s easy to forget just how rural the rest of Missouri is as we wind our way through fallow cornfields and limestone rock faces carved into the undulating landscape. Out the window a giant wooden sign in a cornfield reads “vote for anyone but Obama” in hand painted black and white letters.

South of Memphis we exit the interstate and jaunt down state road 161 towards Clarksdale, Mississippi. Nestled in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, the birthplace of blues music, the city is a mecca for musicians and aficionados of the genre. The city has its own Delta Blues Museum, and is one of the integral stops on the developing Mississippi Blues Trail. Red’s Lounge specifically, is our destination, reputed to be one of few authentic “juke joints” surviving in the South.

We spot the place easily enough; when cars line both sides of the street on Sunflower Avenue and the thump of drums can be heard through the walls. As we enter the ramshackle brick building, I spot a black iron smoker chugging away out front, the sweet aroma or pork wafting through the air. It’s a $10 cover as we enter, and the place is packed to the gills. The band plays in the center with a worn out Persian rug marking the stage area. Plastic covers a few missing ceiling tiles and mismatched chairs are strewn about haphazardly. A cloud of blue cigarette smoke hangs from the ceiling like a fog, and the walls are covered with concert posters of old blues legends like Big Jack Johnson.

I elbow my way to the bar and order 4 Budweiser heavies, which the barman pulls out of a plastic cooler – there are no refrigerators here. They serve 18oz bottles exclusively, a bargain at $3 apiece, and you get to screw the cap off yourself. Robert Bilbo Walker wails away into the microphone while the tin notes of his electric guitar ring through the humid crowd. Draped in a three piece suit and sporting an oily Jheri Curl hairstyle, Walker is a typecast Delta Blues musician. The mixed audience of dancing locals and camera toting tourists alike bob their heads and sing along to a few of the better known melodies. There are only two rules here as far as I can tell: 1. Don’t cause no trouble and 2. No taking video. The second is strictly enforced by a heavy set bouncer soon after a foppish out of towner starts recording on his iPhone.

When the 76 year old Robert Bilbo Walker takes intermission for a few minutes, I sprint to the smoker outside for a little midnight snack. Arranged inside the barrel smoker in foil trays, the pitmaster walks me through the menu of hogs feet, chicken wings, pork steak and ribs. Smoked over a mix of pecan and oak, I settle for a half rack of the meaty spare ribs for $13 – hold the sauce. He slices them up on a plastic cutting board while the open flame crackles away, sparks dancing skyward into the night air. After the first bite, it’s obvious that a deft hand tends the smoker here. The pork pulls gently from the bone, giving way to rich, unctuous, perfectly rendered fat. With a rib in one hand, and a cold beer in the other, the four of us soak in another hour of the blues at Red’s Lounge before calling it quits for the night.

Saturday morning is an early wake up call, and we shoot an hour east across the flat expanse of the Mississippi Delta as white blanketed cotton fields stretch towards the horizon in every direction. Getting into Oxford, we make a bee line for Big Bad Breakfast, one of the premier breakfast haunts in the city known for their house cured meats. Evidently we weren’t the only car load of hungry patrons with the same idea, as the hostess jots my name down and informs me of the two hour wait for a table. But the delay gives us a chance to run a few errands, stocking up on ice and beer for the afternoon ahead.

Once we’re finally seated, we collectively order about half the menu at BBB. I opt for two full entrees; a giant egg sandwich topped with their house cured tobasco bacon, and then a full three egg breakfast skillet loaded with bacon, sausage and ham. Munching on a few biscuits with house made strawberry and grape preserves; it’s an agonizing wait for food, but given the massive influx of game day traffic, completely understandable. After gorging ourselves on the hearty breakfast, we settle up and head out the door, ready to hit the pristine Ole Miss campus.

Heading towards campus, the streets grow thick with heavy gameday traffic. As the infamous “Grove” is off limits to vehicles, cars line up along the street waiting for their chance to offload tailgating supplies to be toted into the growing tent city. From the outside, it looks like a refugee camp with a southern gentile twist, as floral arrangements and candelabras are tucked beneath the tents. Amidst the bustle, everyone seems to be carrying something, either trays full of sandwiches or pulling wagons loaded with coolers. After unloading our modest set up, we locate some scarce paid parking a few blocks away in the First Baptist Church of Oxford for $20. Some recent city wide ordinances have made parking anywhere near campus a nightmare on game days, and judging by the standstill traffic in all directions, it looks like they still have a few kinks to work out.

As the four of us tote our setup down the sidewalk and into the throngs spilling out of The Grove, we spot a small unoccupied stretch of grass to claim our own. One of the most remarkable features of this most hallowed tailgating ground is the fact that it is free to all, on a first come first serve basis. A stark contrast to the $50 bucks I had to shell out a week prior for a small stretch of asphalt next to Jerryworld in Dallas. There are no preferred spots or choice areas only available to a few wealthy donors here either, anyone is free to claim any open space they wish. Plopping down our minimalist setup of a lone cooler and four lawn chairs, we get the festivities underway quickly amidst the shadow of the best tailgating spot in the country.

Despite an all clear weather forecast, not long after we set up, ominous black clouds move overhead. As the sky darkens and thunder looms in the distance, one of our neighbors fortuitously needs to move an extra tent into the area, and ours is the only space available. In affable southern fashion, we oblige him, and no sooner huddle our chairs beneath the new nylon canopy before a downpour begins. Watching the deluge from the comfort of our new shelter, feet resting comfortably on the cooler, other tailgates struggle to keep from getting swamped.

After a few minutes the rain passes, and a clear sunny day moves in overhead. We spend the afternoon attacking a cooler full of Coors Banquet beer, while soaking in the splendor – and ample coed talent specifically – of the Grove around us. Ole Miss fans are quick to tell you that they have so many beautiful women on campus that “we can redshirt Miss America’s here”. And looking around, the claim is well founded. A few hours before kickoff, the “Walk of Champions” – the Ole Miss player walk through the Grove, strolls by a few feet from our tent. Fans line the walkways three deep, high fiving players as they pass by in team issued sweat suits, heads bobbing in their gaudy Beats By Dre headphones.

As the afternoon winds on towards kickoff, we visit another friend Sam, who’d generously tracked down four game tickets for us. Against a premier opponent like Texas A&M, the $75 face value is more than a fair price, and in Section P we’ll be staring straight down the 30 yard line. We share a few microbrews at Sam’s tailgate before parting ways and heading towards the beckoning lights of Vaught Hemingway stadium.

On paper, this game was supposed to be a blowout. Judging by the conciliatory attitude of most Ole Miss fans during the afternoon, it seemed that most were resigned to that outcome. But shortly after the first snap, the Rebels make it clear that they will not roll over easily. What follows is an incredible back and forth contest that pits the Ole Miss defense against the heralded Heisman winning QB Johnny Manziel of Texas A&M. Having seen Cam Newton live, I can say that Manziel is actually even more impressive in person. Watching him dance around the backfield, he makes defensive ends look foolish, often simply out sprinting them to the corner for an easy first down. Unlike some of the big dual threat quarterbacks in recent memory like Vince Young, Tim Tebow or Cam Newton – Manziel is incredibly accurate, firing the ball downfield with ease to open receivers. Say what you will about some of his off field antics (which candidly, I could care less about), his exploits between the white lines are simply a joy to watch.

During a break in the action, scores from around the country flash across the jumbotron. I make a remark to Elon about the significance of #5 Stanford getting beaten by Utah, a remarkable feat that is sure to shake up the BCS standings in a few short weeks. In typical SEC homer fashion, an Ole Miss fan in the next row fires back “Stanford? Who the hell cares about the Pac 12 anyway?…”. SEC fandom at it’s finest.

As the game presses deep into the fourth quarter, the teams are locked into a fierce battle for control. For a few minutes, Ole Miss takes a 7 point lead with 10:36 remaining as QB Bo Wallace fires one of his three touchdown passes on the day. For the next seven minutes, the teams exchange three touchdowns in a flurry of scoring. Each of the squads march unimpeded down the field. Ole Miss takes the lead one minute, then A&M responds to knot the score. This is one of those games where whoever has the ball last is going to win…

At 3:07 remaining, the momentum finally swings. With the score knotted at 38-38, the Ole Miss offense takes control with another chance to secure a lead, and possible victory. But their offense stumbles, after three quick incomplete passes, they are forced to punt into the awaiting Aggie offense. When Texas A&M resumes control with 2:33 remaining needing only a field goal to win, the entire Ole Miss fan base already knows the outcome before it plays out. Johnny Manziel streaks down the field with remarkable ease on a few successive runs deep into Ole Miss territory, well within range of the leg of place kicker Josh Lambo. After a few running plays to milk the final few seconds off the clock and center the ball between the hashes, Lambo boots the 33 yard game winning field goal through the uprights. Texas A&M skates away with the victory in anti climatic fashion, and holds on to their lofty top ten ranking for another week. The Ole Miss crowd files solemnly out of Vaught Hemingway, seeking solace in the dwindling bustle of the Grove as the tent city slowly dismantles into the night…

Special thanks to my friends Colin, Elon and Chris for making this an awesome spur of the moment trip! Hopefully you guys are now as hooked on SEC football as I am. Let me know when you’re ready for the next one!

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Notre Dame vs Arizona State: Irish shock the Sun Devils in Dallas…

October 22, 2013 / Pigskin Pursuit / 0 Comments

Having lived in Dallas for several years and attending a handful of games at the soaring monstrosity of new Cowboy Stadium, the trip to the Big D was more about catching up with friends than exploring a new corner of the college football world. With Notre Dame playing Arizona State in one of their annual “Shamrock Series” neutral site contests, a special event that grants leeway for the crack design team at Adidas to make some deplorable changes to the traditional Fighting Irish uniforms, this trip was a great opportunity to reconnect with a few of my Irish cohorts that were also making the journey into town. But with #22 Arizona State fresh off a blowout victory over the USC Trojans, this game would be anything but a walk in the park for the decidedly pedestrian Irish squad thus far this year. Of course the allure of some proper Texas barbecue would offset any anxieties that I shared about the tenuous Irish matchup…(See my review of Pecan Lodge from last year here)

Saturday morning we rise early and load up Bryce’s truck with a payload of tailgating provisions. Coolers are stuffed to the gills with refreshment, and shopping bags ripple with snacks. We rendezvous with a handful of friends in the parking lot of a Bone Daddy’s restaurant in Grapevine, a Hooters restaurant clone known for their, ahem, “alluring” fare. From there we convoy south into Arlington with surprising ease, and then enter the asphalt expanse surrounding the new Cowboy Stadium. We have a hangtag parking pass for Lot 12, a privilege that Jerry Jones charges $50 apiece for. Judging by the wide open swaths of parking that never fill up, the contest will be far from a sellout.

As our tailgate is unfurled in the cool overcast morning air, our numbers swell as visitors stop by and meet up. Bryce sets up a slick Beats By Dre portable radio with some Texas Country pumping, while Kate lays out an impressive spread on a foldout table. I take this opportunity to crack into my first Shiner of the day. My friends Larry and Luke had followed us in and parked alongside. Both friends from my Notre Dame years, they were in town for a doubleheader of the Irish contest on Saturday, and then an NFL Cowboys game the next day. Seasoned tailgating veterans in South Bend, they were both familiar with my tailgating antics, and we spend the morning working our way through an impressive list of microbrews that Bryce toted along. As always, a few hours tailgating with great friends flies by like seconds, and as the sun starts to dip into the horizon, it signals the end of our festivities. We stuff our pockets with a few walking beers and head towards the giant alien spacecraft that is Jerryworld.

Walking towards the stadium, tickets are for sale everywhere. People stand on corners with fistfuls of them in hand, asking as low as $5 apiece for the tickets which the university had the gall to put a $110 face value price tag on. There simply isn’t enough demand for what amounts to a neutral site game between two lackluster teams that are each nearly 1,000 miles from their respective campuses. Security procedures as we enter the giant dome include a metal detector and possible pat down. If it’s one thing I always appreciate – it’s invasive, superfluous and ineffective security procedures that cause a choke point to enter the stadium and offer little more than an illusion of safety. Fortunately, the “security” goons aren’t wise enough for my ruse, and I breeze through with a full can of Shiner Bock cleverly concealed by years of experience (send me an email if you want the technique)…

For those that haven’t been, Cowboy Stadium (recently redubbed “AT&T Stadium”, which I will ignore) is an impressive space, a befitting monument to football in the Lonestar State. It’s sparkling new and clean, has generously wide concourses that are easy to navigate and a plethora of concessions that sport everything from nachos to sushi. The retractable roof soars nearly 300 feet over the field, supported by a pair of massive 35’ deep box trusses that span the entire 1200’ length of the stadium. The gaudy centerpiece of the structure is the infamous Mitsubishi Jumbotron, a 160’ high definition TV screen that continuously flashes replays and advertisements, the largest of its kind in the world. Stretching from one 25 yard line to the other, the epilepsy inducing behemoth is so obtrusive, that you find yourself accidentally watching the game on the screen instead of the actual action on the field.

While it’s impossible not to be impressed by the sheer size and spectacle of the structure, and it’s a fine venue for the climate controlled, banal professionalism of the NFL; I find Jerryworld completely unfit for a college football game. College football is quite simply meant to be played outdoors, under the elements, in the splendor of a fervent college campus bursting with foliage on a crisp fall afternoon.

But despite my purist protestations, beer flows freely at the concession stands, and Larry, Luke and I intend to take advantage of this break from typical NCAA Puritanism. Given the frustrating play of the Irish thus far this season, we’ll clearly need it, and we alternate a few rounds while the countdown clock winds down. Although billed as a neutral site contest, looking around the audience is anything but an even split. The Irish fan base probably outnumbers the Sun Devils 3:1, and the massive jumbotron plays exclusively Irish promotional videos and messages. After a few pre game announcements, the contest kicks off with as much roar as the 2/3 capacity crowd can muster as helmets begin popping on the artificial turf below.

After a scoreless first quarter, what follows is a surprisingly competitive, seesaw battle that delivers for all four quarters. Irish running back and Texas native Cam McDaniel batters the ASU defense on the ground, while QB Tommy Rees has a serviceable day in the air with three touchdowns against one (albeit costly) interception. After trading a few quick touchdowns in the second quarter, the score at halftime is 14-13 in favor of the Irish.

In the third frame, as Rees finds some rhythm, the Irish jump out to a comfortable 24-13 lead after successful touchdown drive and impressive 53 yard field goal boot by place kicker Kyle Brindza. But the explosive Sun Devil squad will not be pinned down in the 4^th quarter, as they return a Tommy Rees gaffe for a six point interception, and later punch in a touchdown with eight minutes remaining to knot the score at 27. After an ensuing Irish field goal drive (30-27), the key play of the game occurs as Arizona State assumes the ball deep in their own territory with 1:16 remaining. Skilled ASU QB Taylor Kelly, facing a 4^th and 13 conversion to keep his teams hopes alive, fires an interception into the outstretched arms of ND linebacker Dan Fox. Fox returns the interception for a touchdown, effectively icing the game as the Irish assume a 37-27 lead with only a minute remaining. Final score ND 37 ASU 34.

Special thanks to my friends Bryce and Kate for their incredible Texas hospitality as always, and can’t wait to see what games we meet up for next year!

Thanks to my friends Larry and Luke, it was awesome to catch up with you guys in Dallas, and lets lock down ASU in Arizona next year!!!

Full clickable gallery below:

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Category: Games (Page 12 of 22)

Oregon vs UCLA – Ducks squeak by the Bruins…

Tennessee vs South Carolina – Finishing the SEC in Volunteer style…

Ole Miss vs Texas A&M – Aggies quell the Rebel uprising…

Notre Dame vs Arizona State: Irish shock the Sun Devils in Dallas…

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