My Thoughts About Florida vs Georgia With Ohio's Tate
Before I dive into my actual blog, let me address the video that's been making the rounds. To be honest, the cops should never have been called on the people behind us. They were your typical college sports fans. Were they talking some trash? Sure. But did they cross the line? No. Security came down just once, without any warning, and then the cops followed right after. Now, everything that happened from there is on video, so you can form your own opinions. All I'll say is that the people being arrested didn't exactly do themselves any favors.
Nothing makes you feel your age quite like stepping into a college frat tailgate at 25. It's Florida-Georgia weekend—a game I get hyped for every year. So, naturally, I'm thinking, "Alright, this'll be great! Time to relive the glory days! Go Gators!" But the moment I set foot into the tailgate, it was like stepping into a time machine that had aged me an extra decade on impact.
Picture this: a sea of frat brothers in greek lettered shirts, blasting EDM remixes that make your ears feel like they've just got punched by Jon Jones. The bass is so intense, I'm pretty sure it rearranged some of my internal organs. And everywhere I look, the place is packed shoulder-to-shoulder with guys and girls who all look like they just started high school but are somehow all in college. And me? I might as well have walked in with gray hair and orthopedic shoes. It took me all of two minutes to realize I was the oldest person there.
Back in my college days, I'd dive headfirst into crowds like this without a second thought. But now? I'm practically tip-toeing, trying not to spill anyone's drink or get nailed by a stray elbow. The music is so loud I can feel it in my teeth, and every other second someone's screaming, "LET'S GO!!!" like they just got a blow job in a porta-potty. I knew no one, yet if I had to guess, I probably tossed out over a hundred of those "white people smiles."
After wandering through the chaos, I finally found my oasis: a tailgate with a grill, a small TV, and—praise be—lawn chairs. It felt like stumbling upon the Promised Land. I don't think I've ever been happier to watch college football on a 23-inch screen perched on the back of some dude's truck. And that's when it hit me. For the first time in my life, I was actually relieved to be out of the rager crowd. I was content with a little space, a cold drink, and some fellow fans who weren't trying to rupture my eardrums.
In terms of raging, I've got to admit, I'm washed. But in terms of having a good time, I feel like I've graduated to a new level of enjoyment.
So, to all the college kids at that tailgate, you win. Enjoy every wild, crowded, sweat-soaked moment, because I sure did. And in a few years, when you're creeping up on "washed" status yourself, don't mourn the end of the rager days. Embrace it—you'll know what it truly means to have a good time.
