A Saturday in Athens, Georgia
By Justin Levine | Jun 17 on The Bant House
8:00 am - You are rudely awakened by Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”. The freshmen have been setting up since 7 am and have finally figured out how to work the speaker. You are lethargic and hungover from Friday night, but you realize, now, it’s Saturday in Athens. Go Dawgs!
8:30 am - Being the go-getter that you are, you take a quick shower, throw on your jersey or UGA polo, put on some khakis and head outside. This early portion of the tailgate is just the freshmen and the few members of in-house that are ready to start drinking. “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison is now playing in the background.
8:31 am - Time for the first shotgun. Everyone pulls out their keys except for one kid who has an unnecessary claw opener. That kid will likely finish last. Everyone begins, one kid downs his beer in 3 seconds, while the others strive for second place.
9:00 am - As Toby Keith’s “Red Solo Cup” blares loud, the beer pong tables are set up and ready for competition. You grab your boy and challenge some freshmen to a match, expecting an easy victory to start the day. They go off; they hit balls back to start and follow that up by hitting the same cup. You’re quickly in a 5-cup deficit and don’t come back, hopefully the Dawgs have better luck tonight.
9:03 am - After losing bp to some new boys, you punish yourself by shotgunning. (This was coming anyway, it would have been a reward if you won.)
10:00 am - The action has stalled, so you decide to check your phone. You have yet to put in your 6-team parlay, so now is a good time to do so. Being the Georgia fan you are, you throw in Tennessee ML at Alabama. “This is the week the Tide fall” you mutter to yourself. You could not have just taken the Vols +24, you needed that moneyline at +1200. “Highway to Hell” foreshadows in the background.
10:05 am - You shotgun again to celebrate the fact that you’re going to be rich at the end of the day.
11:00 am - The diehards arrive. These are the girls that either have a boyfriend in the house, or, the girls that would “die for their mothafuckin’ dawgs”. Coincidentally, Waka Flocka’s “For my Dawgs” rings true from the speaker. You get into a brief conversation with one of them about how Swift is going to run all over the defense today. Their faith majestically restored in Kirby after almost blowing a 21-point lead the week before. You raise your keystone light up to their golden pantry foam cup, filled with some jungle juice concoction and say, “Go Dawgs!”
11:30 am - You make your way to the basement to get the first batch of fried chicken and mac n cheese. You sacrifice the cheap talk with alumni because the chicken tastes oh so good. You also take time to say hi to the chef’s Sunshine and Tyrone before you head back upstairs.
12:20 pm - You look at your phone to check some scores and, somehow, Kansas State is already down 17-0. You had them +3 at home vs the Horned Frogs. “Fool in the Rain” by Led Zeppelin seems like it’s playing at 120 decibels.
12:21 pm - You lock in a new parlay, still with Tennessee ML at Alabama.
12:40 pm - You think about what went wrong in the first parlay. You do the math, and realize you have only shotgunned and played pong. Time to go inside for some shots. You hope a new type of alcohol will breed new success.
1:30 pm - With “Paradise City” playing, the crowd starts to pick up. The older brothers have walked over from their apartments and more girls have made their way over to Greek Park Circle. You watch eager freshmen muster up the courage to offer some of them a beer. You realize you’ve raised these boys well. The proud older brother you are, you call a few of them over to shotgun.
2:00 pm - It’s finally feeling like game day. One of the seniors suggests “Baba O’Riley” to get in the mood. You can hear the crowd in unison sing, “it’s on-ly teen-age wastelanddddd”.
2:40 pm - Your little calls you into a shotgun circle. The circle fills up with three brothers, two random alumni, one dad whose son isn’t even in the circle and one girl with the gullet of Joey Chestnut. As the countdown terminates, the girl drops her beer right away, effectively embarrassing everyone else. The brothers finish in a respectable time, while the dads have more beer on their shirt than in their mouth. Luke Bryan’s “Rain Is a Good Thing” takes its turn on the speaker.
3:00 pm - One sophomore, likely from Long Island or Maryland, has the idea to change the musical from country/classic rock to new age hip hop and rap. As Drake comes on, one of the seniors passive-aggressively says something in the group chat. Eventually, the sophomore concedes, and it’s back to classic rock within the hour.
4:00 pm - Your parlay has two legs completed and is looking good. Alabama and Tennessee have just kicked off. “Dixieland Delight” coming on in the background is not a good sign. You immediately demand a change to the music.
4:30 pm - Tennessee scores first! Time to shotgun.
4:32 pm - Alabama returns the ensuing kickoff for a touchdown.
5:00 pm - The early birds start heading to Sanford Stadium. They want to be in the crowd for all of the pregame rituals. The montages, the band playing, they love it.
5:30 pm - The freshmen are sent off to the stadium to save seats for the rest of the brotherhood. Our section is way up high in the 300s, but it’s a perfect place to celebrate.
6:15 pm - You check your phone to see if the parlay has any promise. Alabama has scored 35 unanswered. Fuck.
6:30 pm - You do one last shotgun with the sparse amount of people left, most have already headed out. The crew all promises to finish this one entirely, even though most tap out after about half. It’s time to head for Sanford. As you walk passed the railroad tracks, your one friend that doesn’t have tickets tries to convince you to stay a little longer. It doesn’t work.
6:35 pm - You get close to the stadium and someone is calling the Dawgs, “WHOS THAT COMING DOWN THE TRACK”. You echo the sentiment, make a snapchat story saying “Dawgs by 90” and head on in.
6:55 pm - “Glory, Glory” echoes loudly and you lock in. With the other parlay lost, you have a last ditch effort and throw $100 on Georgia. This is it. I love the Georgia Bulldogs.
Forever & Always - Fuck Auburn, Fuck Saban and, “I’d hate, to be, a Florida Gator”