Gator Done

After reading this post from Puttin’ on the G.R.I.T.S yesterday, I was reminded how quickly football season is fast approaching. Less than a month until the Gators start the season against Miami of Ohio. It seems like yesterday that Tim Tebow and I were crying together over the loss of the SEC Championship to Alabama. (And for all you Gator haters: your quarterbacks don’t cry because they are used to losing. Put a lid on it because I’m busy polishing my National Championship rings.)

One of many Phi Mu family tailgates. I had just learned to shotgun a beer...oh, the memories.

While loyal to my Gators, I’ll admit I haven’t always been the most fervent of fans.  In my early years it was hard for me to focus on football when surrounded by beer bongs, mimosas, and an abundance of handsome fraternity gentleman. Tailgate cheeseburgers were so delicious that they caused me to end my six-year vegetarian streak. (That and the fact that, morally, I’m weak.)

Freshman year game day. Feel free to mock the bangs, body fat percentage, and horrendous T-shirt.

Senior year. Can we say improvement? Thank you, thankyouverymuch.

To my fat wimpy freshman self, game days in the Swamp were hard to bear. They usually involved sunburn, dehydration, and a bucket of back sweat. (Sick.) I was extremely jealous of the alumni side of the stadium, who were not only allowed to sit down, but were in the shade as well. Pansies.

By my senior year I was way less lame more hardy.  A few years of sorority sisters inundating me with stats and scores rubbed off in a good way. Plus, I had learned to defend myself against my dad’s side of the family, whose alumni were equally split between Georgia and Alabama. The only thing they had in common? Hating me.  (Family reunions were a barrel of laughs, let me tell you.)

Now that I’m residing a good eight hours away from the Swamp, my pride in my team and the SEC conference has never been stronger. Especially since all anyone wants to talk about is Duke/Carolina basketball, and I could really be more entertained by paint drying care less.

This year, while my baby Phi Mus are sitting in the fraternity block and reapplying SPF 80, I’ll be (responsibly) pounding some cold ones in the air-conditioned comfort of a Charlotte Gator Club viewing party.  If I happen to meet some fratty Gator gentleman, all the better. At least I won’t have back sweat this time.