Roe Tide.

8am: Saturday began with a bang for me. Me banging my head against the wall because I was hungover or still drunk- I am still undecided on which it was because I began drinking fervently before the fog in my head could become painful and I could decipher my mental state. It was GAMEDAY. I shivered at the smell of whiskey on the air as I excitedly showered, donned my crimson and grabbed my shaker. Little did I know that I would realize in just a few short hours how old I had become in the extent of a year’s time.

9am: I graduated from the great Title Town only a few months ago, but I had clearly lost my touch with reality when I realized that the game started at 11:20 and I would be expected to Roll with the Tide all day. As in, 13+ hours. An hour for every championship, naturally. I won’t lie. I was extremely pumped as we rolled onto campus- me and the newlyweds that now comprise my entire friend base. This particular couple happens to be very partial to me, so I accept their wedding vows as unchangeable and they accept me as a permanent 3rd wheel and sister wife.

10:30am: We sat front row in the South End Zone and gorged ourselves on free liquor, free cheese fries, free burgers, free ice cream, free mashed taters just cause we could… free pretty much everything you could ever want. And if it’s free, then you must eat or drink it. It’s a rule. Look it up. I still regret the 2 red velvet cupcakes. But they were crimson and had A emblem M&M’s on them. So I had to eat 2. After the W, we were feeling particularly frisky and headed to the Strip for some post-game rowdiness.

4pm: I was taking tequila shots like it was my job and chasing them with Diet Coke just to survive. And while this may have been normal if I hadn’t been drinking since 9:30am, I had been drinking since 9:30am. That’s when I began to hit my drunk wall. This is the wall you encounter when your brain refuses to accept more alcohol and your body rejects the thought of committing to any more tipsyness. I began sneakily sipping Diet Coke minus alcohol.

7pm: We decided a game of darts would be a good idea. It wasn’t. Me and the sister wife were playing our friend who works for NASA. She’s a wee bit competitive if you can imagine and began noticing our numbers were rising while we were not actually succeeding. Violence and punishment in the form of more shots ensued.

10:30pm. I failed. I succumbed to Jimmy Johns and headed home for a feast, courtesy of a drive from my little brother.

Maybe though in retrospect this wasn’t just a trip to celebrate football or to drink alcohol or eat Jimmy Johns. Maybe the trip down by thousands of fans did more and meant more to the TTown community then imaginable. Maybe it’s for being dedicated alumni and pumping our measley salaries into a town that needs everything right now. Maybe it will keep the spirit going of a campus that badly needs a distraction from the depressing tornado-wrecked skyline. Maybe it will keep hope alive in the family members that still struggle over the loss of loved ones. Maybe it will help all of us keep Ttown Up, and Never Down.