While I was driving to my five o’clock class on the late evening of October 13, I received an ESPN update and a plethora of texts from multiple friends: The Gators were hitting the road to Baton Rouge to make up the LSU game on November 19.
No more Presbyterian. No more South Alabama. No more shade being thrown by ignorant fools who don’t understand how hurricanes affect a state, even if it doesn’t hit a town directly — oh, wait, that kept coming.
I might or might have not skipped class that night to put together a master plan for a road trip.
With all the hype that had gone into hosting LSU, and all the drama with the game being postponed, I was expecting a nasty showdown to be played in Tiger Stadium at this point — and I wanted to be there to witness it all in person.
I told my friends we were going and they had no other choice, and yet they tried to make other choices. A couple of them were hesitant because we had no idea how much tickets were yet, and a couple weren’t too thrilled at the possibility of being spit on by angry LSU fans and traveling to Louisiana in general. I’d never road-tripped for a game before — sorry, Jacksonville doesn’t count — and had never set foot on LSU campus, but was more than up for an adventure. Plus, I needed an excuse to get back to New Orleans, even if it were just a pit stop on the way to Death Valley.
I was undeterred.
Fast forward to the following Tuesday and student tickets going on sale for $50 at 8 a.m.: I was the only one out of my three-person group to successfully buy a ticket before they sold out. I kid you not, those things sold out in about 30 seconds. After I calmed down both my boyfriend and the other friend I had made plans to trek with, I devised another way to get tickets for the game. God bless my mom’s best friend’s parents for being Bull Gators.
After it had seemed like the college football gods didn’t want me to witness this epic SEC match-up, everything was set. Since Pensacola is the town I call home, staying the night there on Thursday night split the drive up perfectly. New Orleans is only about a three-hour drive from Pensacola, so driving to Pensacola Thursday night, onto New Orleans on Friday, then driving to Baton Rouge on Saturday before heading back to Pensacola on Saturday night and returning to Gainesville on Sunday didn’t seem that crazy.
I just had to wait for the weekend of November 19 to arrive.
No hurricane can stop us now
After what felt like decades of waiting, the fateful week had arrived. Florida had found comfortable wins against Mizzou and Georgia, suffered a brutal loss against Arkansas, and redeemed itself in The Swamp against South Carolina. Going into the LSU game at Tiger Stadium, especially with seven of our starters out, I honestly couldn’t have given you a straight answer on what I predicted the outcome of the game to be. Aside from the game, though, I was determined to have a good time on the road and make a true trip out of it, and that all began when I got dismissed from my Thursday writing lab a full hour early.
We threw our bags into my car and took off, though not before I got a seasonal coffee from Starbucks because I’m basic. On the way, we cranked up a custom hodgepodge Spotify playlist (“Home Game My Ass”), and made decent time, arriving in Pensacola around 1 a.m. on Friday. Being up that late isn’t anything out of the ordinary for me, but I didn’t know at the time that the lack of sleep I would be getting that whole weekend would eventually hit me like Vosean Joseph did Danny Etling.
A brief four-hour sleep, a flat tire, a three-hour tire shop delay, and a couple Dairy Queen Blizzards later, we were finally headed for the magnificent city of New Orleans. Delirium was already beginning to set in and we hadn’t even set foot on Bourbon Street yet — or even crossed into Mississippi.
We passed through state after state and were overjoyed when we finally rolled onto the sketchy streets of the Big Easy. The Airbnb we had booked for Friday night was just minutes away from the French Quarter, so we conveniently went right into adventuring around the city to see what ridiculous wonders we could find.
Despite everyone being in NOLA for a night of partying, we all knew the true fun was going to be had the following day a couple hours away in Baton Rogue. And chanting “It’s Great to be a Florida Gator” with complete strangers in the streets, knowing that we were more or less behind enemy lines, was pretty freaking cool.
I was not emotionally prepared for this
Screw noon kickoffs, man. Actually, let me rephrase that: Screw atrocious traffic on the way into LSU, impossible parking situations, and the stress of trying to get to a stadium in a timely manner. Man.
We left New Orleans at around 7:30 on Saturday morning, aiming to get to Baton Rouge by at least 10 a.m. after stopping at Denny’s on the way to eat and regroup from the previous night’s shenanigans. We were only about a couple hours away from LSU’s campus: I didn’t think we’d be in too bad of shape.
I was kind of wrong. For about the first half hour, we were fine — and then we hit road work mixed with game day traffic. And, good lord, I have never hated driving a stick shift more in my entire life.
After finally arriving on campus, we found a free parking lot (bless up) but took forever to find an actual spot to park my car. It was about 11:30 by the time we finally got to the parking lot to begin with, due to the traffic, and so we got desperate: I found a spot hidden behind some trees, swerved into it, and jumped out, all in the span of what felt like seconds. Suddenly, we were walking as fast as we could to get to the stadium.
In all honesty, the campus was absolutely beautiful, and I truly did appreciate it during the 3.5 seconds I spent looking around, was rushing to make it to kickoff. I’m not sure if it’s because I was walking at super sonic speed, or if because LSU fans aren’t as bad as everyone makes them out to be, but I only got yelled at a couple times for sporting my orange and blue game day apparel.
But getting into the stadium was almost as bad as maneuvering my way through traffic on the way there. The lines were about a million miles long, and kickoff was just minutes away. All I wanted to do was watch some football.
The stadium itself was truly very impressive. I knew Death Valley was supposed to be cool, but what everyone says really doesn’t do it justice.
I know I said screw nooners a couple paragraphs ago, but playing a night game there would have honestly been terrifying. Everything happens for a reason, right? Thanks, Jeremy Foley.
After finally making it into the stadium and finding our seats, I thought I was ready. We had gotten in just a few minutes after kickoff, and didn’t miss much. LSU fans were getting rowdy pretty early, especially after their first — and only — touchdown of the game in the first quarter, but I thought I could handle it.
Going into halftime and only having a field goal on the board, I was a bit worried but not really surprised. Like I said, I really had no prediction of how the game was going to go, but at this point, I was kind of leaning towards a loss. I hadn’t given up hope, but I was just trying to be logical: We hadn’t really produced offensively during the first half.
The LSU fans mocking the Gator Chomp, though? that had me a little riled up. I had seen fans of all sorts mock the Gator Chomp before, but I was just a little more pissed this time considering the circumstances of what all had happened going into this game.
And then the third quarter arrived. I watched as Appleby threw the pass up. No way. I watched as the ball fell beautifully into Tyrie’s hands. No way. I watched as he ran down the field and towards us into the end zone.
NO FREAKING WAY.
Our entire section erupted into massive cheers and screams. I got a little teary-eyed, from being both sleep-deprived and so emotionally invested into the game. My boyfriend turned to me: “I was not prepared for that at all.” None of us were, babe. None of us were.
What if we beat LSU? I thought. It was still the third quarter, and the game ain’t over til it’s over, but I allowed myself to dream.
As the third quarter ended with us being up on the Tigers, linking arms and singing “We Are the Boys” was even more satisfying for me than usual.
The fourth quarter began, and my heart beat like a jackhammer was trapped within it. LSU tied the game with a field goal, and in the back of my mind I was thinking, “Holy shit, if this goes into OT, I’m not going to be able to mentally function.”
After (our lord and savior) Eddy’s two field goals to put us up 16-10, I was trying my best to collect my thoughts. Were we really about to beat LSU? In Tiger Stadium? And clinch the SEC East? This was almost too good to be true.
As LSU started driving down the field, inching closer and closer to their end zone, my made-up reality started to set in. There was no way we were about to pull this off. Don’t get me wrong, our defense is stellar (obviously), but there was just no way.
Or so I thought, at the time.
Fourth quarter. Fourth down. The Florida 1. One of the best defenses in college football. One of the loudest stages in college football. YOU CAN’T SCRIPT THIS, FOLKS.
We got the stop.
And the atmosphere switched so. Damn. Quick.
Had to do it. #MannequinChallenge #LSUvsUF pic.twitter.com/IL5LETfmOo
— Reggie Chatman Jr. (@ReggieChatman) November 19, 2016
I’m pretty positive I’ve never screamed that loud in my entire life. As the stop was made, all the fans in orange and blue practically shook the stadium.
We were almost as loud (if not louder) as the entire LSU fan base present. My whole body was shaking. Everyone around me was screaming. We were jumping into each other’s arms, hugging, and high-fiving. Somewhat illogical “S-E-C!” chants broke out. We did it. We really freaking did it.
And on the drive back to Pensacola that night, we booked our lodgings for the SEC Championship Game. See you in Atlanta, where the Gators play.