2009 CFN Board Meeting: The Epic Recap

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2009

FAROUT FIELD AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI

COLUMBIA, MISSOURI

The 2009 CFN Board Meeting took place in Columbia, Missouri in the Zou. The best option for me to get there was to drive down from the Twin Cities. Since the Land Yacht (my 1990 Buick Park Avenue) is no longer fit to travel further than AAA will tow it home, I rented a car at the MSP airport. I've rented with Alamo before, and I was secretly hoping to get one of their Chargers, since all of their Chrysler vehicles come equipped with satellite radio. When driving across Iowa, you need all the help you can get. Alas, there were no Chargers there, so I settled on a fire engine red Impala.

The drive to KC was uneventful, aside from the fact that it started to rain shortly after crossing into Iowa, turned into a heavy, heavy downpour around Mason City, and didn't let off until about 60-70 miles into Missouri. I also found out that this particular Impala has a TINY gas tank. When I filled up at Osceola, Iowa, it took 11 gallons and change with the gas light on. The trip was also broken up by a couple of phone calls from Gatorama, and I humored him with ancedotes about what us Minnesotans think of Iowa.

The rain broke, I wandered around the Kansas side of Kansas City for a bit, and found my way to KSULady's house. There I interrupted a furious game of Catch Phrase between KSULady, razorchique, LilDawg, and ElTigreRex. I think "Not lobster" was something clue that came up before I got there, and it was cracking the ladies up something fierce. After a while, KSULady had to go get BurntEyes from the airport. After their return and the obligatory exchange of pleasantries, everyone who hadn't already starting drinking continued with gusto. Both TK and Burnie polished off a substantial portion of liters of whisky, TK preferring Irish to Burnie's Scotch (or do I have that turned around?).

Friday morning dawned cool, windy, and with most folks vicously hung over. KSULady made her self-proclaimed world famous biscuits and gravy, which shook us out of it, and then I left for the airport to make some pickups. First it was to Terminal 1 to pick up the one and only Traveling WolverGator, Gatorama. Then it was over to Terminal 3 and the Continental gates to pick up our newly married UTErin. It is clear that the Kansas City airport was designed as an O&D airport, as transferring planes here would be a major pain the neck, and would require a wholesale rebuild if it wanted to be a substantial hub.

Anyhow, I called back to the house, and MextheDog hadn't arrived yet from Oklahoma. So we headed back down I-635 to KSULady's house, where all the perpetrators that were going to go to Columbia were assembled. We stopped at a Kwik Trip to get gas and beer, and then we were off for Columbia. I thought that I-70 between Kansas City and Columbia is a lot like I-94 across northwestern Wisconsin. Rolling country, lots of trees, and the colors were very pretty.

Before arriving in Columbia, we stopped at a winery in Rochefort. This is one of KSULady's favorite places to go in Missouri, and it lived up to it's reputation. Burnie had a Bloody Mary that was a meal in a glass, but the rest of us had slightly more standard fare. The food was excellent, and considering they called themselves a winery bistro, their food was actually reasonably priced. The setting was also fabulous. It was on a bluff overlooking the valley of the Missouri River, the fall colors were at their peak, and the company was good. While we were there, we received several strange glances from folks wearing Mizzou gear, and it wasn't until we were on our way out that someone asked who we were, and what were we doing there.

We then drove over to the A-frame, which is a little further along on the property. Seems that this was the original point of sale for the winery when it first opened in the mid 80s. While there, we change up the distribution among people in cars, so that the right people are going to the right hotels. Gator and I are the only ones in our car the rest of the way into Columbia. Upon arrival into Columbia, we decide to take a drive down to the stadium and campus before we get set up at the hotel. We travel around Stadium Blvd. until we reach the athletic complex.

You wouldn't know that Farout Field is there if you weren't looking for it. It sits in an unassuming hollow below the main campus. The stadium itself is nothing more than Vanderbilt Stadium but with a slightly larger capacity and four light towers in the corners. I was thoroughly unimpressed by my illicit hop through the gates. Next, we drove into and through the campus, and lo and behold we find the Mizzou Bookstore. After kniving for a parking spot, we go in there and find all Mizzou gear 25% off! Yes, everything. I pick up a nice sweatshirt on sale and Gator gets some postcards. I find that the bookstore is EXTREMELY busy for a Friday afternoon, but I don't think anything of it.

After all of this, we find our way out to our Holiday Inn Express on the outskirts of town, rest, resupply from a nearby liquor store, and go to the hotel where everyone else is staying. Mr. and Mrs. 847Badgerfan have arrived, and despite Badge feeling a bit under the weather, are ready to hit the town. Since there are sufficient board members to make a quorum, the Board Meeting is called to order. We go to the bar in the restaurant adjacent to the hotel, which has the bartender completely unprepared for our arrival. Our first round of the evening complete, we go over to Harpo's. This place is the quintessential college bar, with lots of Mizzou, Chiefs, and Cardinals memorabilia on the wall. We get props from several different groups as we get some drinks and food. Beer was being sold in souvenir plastic cups, and I shove two of them into my hoodie to take home.

We saw a dueling piano bar on the way over to Harpo's, but it wasn't open when we went by the first time. When we came back, it was open, and it was a great time. The best part of the weekend occurred here. About 11:00, a section of the Marching Mizzou came into the already-packed bar. This was about a basketball-sized pep band, and they played a spread of Mizzou music, including what sounded like their main fight song, a few other traditional songs, and the Missouri Waltz. Also, a band designed to fill Mizzou Arena with noise is REALLY REALLY LOUD when jammed into a bar. I thoroughly enjoyed having my hearing destroyed. Not long after this, we headed back over to the hotel and called it a night, but not before having some chaser beers.

Saturday morning dawned clear and gorgeous, after the previous evening's cold, wet, murky weather. Lots of Mizzou gear in the breakfast bar. About 9:00 we head into town, and find a parade going on! Seems this is Mizzou's homecoming weekend, which would explain why the bookstore was so crazy crowded. They were also having a parade, which made parking downtown a near-impossible situation. I end up dropping off Gator at the hotel, then parking in a ramp half a mile from the hotel. Mizzou claims to be the origin of what is considered homecoming, although I've heard the same claim come from Baylor and Illinois. Either way, I found it strange that just about every business in town had some sort of Greek letters taped to the outside wall or painted on the windows. What was that supposed to mean? Are Greeks not from those houses persona non grata in that establishment during that week?

Anyway, we end up at the Fieldhouse, the bar next to the hotel, to catch the 11:00 games. I seem to have a knack for running into people from Minnesota, as I talked with two more from Bloomington after seeing another one from Eagan the previous evening. All of us were watching the early games, me watching the Gopher offense go nowhere, razorchique seeing her Hogs fumble the game away at Ole Miss, and to everyone's shock, the Blenderbirds knock off Nebraska.

After the conclusion of the early games, some people go back to the hotel to rest, and I go with UTErin and KSULady on a walkaround of downtown Columbia. Downtown Columbia is a lot like downtown Boulder in that it had a quirky feel to it. I managed to keep up with Erin and KSULady for about 45 minutes, until I've been in one too many shops with a strong smell of incense. I go back and doze off in Erin's room until everyone comes back and decides to go over to a tailgate near the stadium. Badge and Gator stay in the hotel, and the rest of us head to the stadium.

Mizzou has a pleasantly surprisingly nice, and large, campus. Once we get down to the south mall spreading out from what looks like the original state capitol building, the tailgating starts up hot and heavy. What they were cooking smelled AMAZING, considering that I didn't order any substantial food while at the bar. Razorchique's boss was tailgating in an RV on the far side of the stadium. On the way down there, we were followed for several blocks by a Mizzou student with a strange motive. On our way to the stadium, TigerKing is wearing his Auburn gear. This student comes up to TK and tells him something to the effect of "sorry, man, but I'm a bama fan, and roll tide." And he follows us, arguing with TK the whole time, for the better part of six blocks, before we hit the main parking lots and he stumbles off somewhere. Recall this is not the first time that TK has been accosted at one of these things. Two years ago in Austin a man who was falling-down-drunk tried to jump him at a souvenir stand, and we had the Banshee Bammer at Sam's Place in Nashville.

Once we get shaken loose from the bammer, we go under the Stadium Blvd tunnel, and around the west side of the stadium. We find Tracy's boss, then another friend of hers who was there. It was then gametime. I was supposed to sit next to Burnie in the Texas section, but he went back to the hotel right before the bammer fan accosted us. Everyone else had tickets together behind the Texas bench in the north end zone. I go into the stadium, and am seated behind the Texas road band. Again, their band is a basketball-sized section.

I am aware that this was homecoming, and you have to have the alumni band in cahoots with the regular band, but do you REALLY need them to do the whole pre-game march stuff? Also, could the announcer for their performance be any more depressing than he is? If there was any energy in the stadium, that guy proceeded to pull all of it out of the crowd, so that by the time the Tigers came out of the south tunnel, it was DEAD DEAD DEAD in there.

Granted, the team didn't give the crowd anything to cheer about. The Longhorns had a whuppin' on their minds, and they wasted no time administering one. Mizzou had one long drive, but otherwise a selection of three-and-outs and turnovers. It was 35-7 at the half, with the game not being nearly as close as the score indicated. People were streaming towards the exits. I thought it was for obvious reasons, but I also learned that Mizzou is an open-gate stadium. So long as you get stamped and have a ticket stub, you can come and go as you please. This is the only stadium that I know of where you can do this.

I go over to meet the others where they are seated. We decide to leave and go back to the hotel, and we're not the only ones who do. Upon arrival, the food that Badge brought from Palatine is ready, and we eat and watch the end of the ESPN games, and find that the Iowa Yellow Chickens escape East Lansing at the bell. Mex, razor, and Burnie are in the first car back to KC in the morning, and they'll be gone early, so they bid everyone adieu. The rest of us hang around Badge's hotel room until it's clear that Arizona State is going to get curb-stomped on the Farm. Then we bid farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Badge (they leave for Chicago early in the morning), and it's back to the hotel.

Sunday morning finds us checked out of the Holiday Inn Express and back at the downtown hotel to say farewell to TK and the ladies. Gator and I are the next car to go back to KC, as his flight is at 2:30 and I want to be back in Minneapolis before midnight. I drop Gator off at the airport, then get on 35 to make the long, boring drive across Iowa back to Minnesota.

I really love this bunch of crazy folks. We come from all walks of life, but yet join up to feed our common interest and passion for college football. Plus we have a drink or six while we're there. It's really a good time, and you should come to this if we're in your neck of the woods.

GR

TR: Prowler Opening Day 2009 at Worlds of Fun

FRIDAY, MAY 1, 2009
WORLDS OF FUN
KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI

My credit counter is spinning like a busted slot machine. Two weeks ago I made the epic trek to Cincinnati to get Diamondback on Opening Day, as well as get all the credits at Kings Island. I was going to go down to KC the last weekend of April, but then it became clear that Prowler wasn’t going to open with the park. Friends had reported that Prowler was awesome, so my curiosity was sufficiently piqued to make the trip down, albeit a week later than originally anticipated.

The trip down Interstate 35 was pretty boring. I’m a born-and-raised Minnesotan (and proud of it), but I’ll fully admit that most of the state is very, very flat and pretty boring to drive across. There isn’t much to say about northern Missouri, either. And let’s not discuss Iowa. Fortunately, the Sirius satellite radio in the car kept things interesting.

The biggest morale booster of the whole trip came just south of Exit 17, which is the turn for KCI Airport for travelers going south on 35. You come out from under the overpass, and suddenly there’s Mamba, Detonator, and the rest of the park skyline right in front of you. For someone who had really been dragging the last half hour, it was an instant shot of adrenaline. We’re almost there! Yay!

I got off at Exit 54 of southbound I-435, and got confused by the layout of the exit. Since I’ve never been there before, I ended up missing the second left turn up to the WOF entrance and ended up by the Village and OOF. By the time I figured out how to get into the park and get parked, it’s about 5:45 PM. I see two people with TPR hoodies coming out, and I wander my way into the turnstiles. I show them my VF plat pass, they give me food and drink vouchers, and I head into the park.

Worlds of Fun is a surprisingly hilly park. For that matter, Kansas City is a surprisingly hilly city. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised, as the Missouri River valley is a deep one through soft ground. Still, your quads, calves, and hamstrings get a good workout at the park. It’s also not clear where to go once you get past the front gates. I follow some folks who look like they know where they’re going

It’s 15 minutes from the top of the stairs back to the head of the queue maze, then 15 minutes for each out-and-back in the queue maze. The maze was filled to the tune of three out-and-backs, which meant it was an hour wait for my first time on Prowler. The marshall at the entrance to the station was being quite strict on row placement, and I ended up in Row 6 in all three of my rides. Truth be told, I was not impressed with it on Friday night. It was certainly a fun ride, but not the kind of blockbuster that it needed to be to get within spitting distance of either a dark Renegade or a soaking wet Viper in Chicago.

Operations got better as the evening progressed. I waited 45 minutes and 30 minutes for my second and third rides, but the first train that didn’t stack Friday night would be their first.

After park close at 8 PM, I went over and checked into my hotel, then went looking for some barbecue. When it Kansas City, you eat barbecue, right? I ended up over at the Ameristar Casino (which is located about a mile from WOF), at Arthur Murray’s barbecue place giving the Plate-pourri sammich a try. I also made the mistake of ordering French fries to go along with it. When I finally got the plate, in addition to the massive sandwich, the French fries were formed into a MOUNTAIN! Talk about my eyes being bigger than my stomach. I managed to get through most of it before throwing in the towel. I really didn’t like any of the three sauces they had. After dinner, I went over to a crap table and proceeded to win $125. A great night in the City of Kansas!

The following morning had breakfast at the Waffle House, then entry into the park. This time I needed to stop at the toll plaza to show my VF platinum pass. The clerk scanned it, then scanned it again with a befuddled look, then put in a call to GR. This went on for about 5 minutes, then the pass was handed back to me and I was told to go ahead. I got parked, then went down to the entrance gate, where they were admitting season passholders. Two weeks ago at Kings Island, my picture didn’t come up when scanned. My pass was scanned, and sure enough it happened again. A call to GR led to an IPA slip being printed and scanned. The supervisor at GR mentioned that they don’t get a lot of IPAs out there. I told her that with Prowler, they were going to get a lot of them this year.

Finally into the park and back to the queue for Prowler. Shortly before 10, the park GM and a local TV meteorologist present the “first riders,” the winners of the auction for the Susan Komen Foundation of Greater Kansas City. After those riders were brought to the platform, the GM took a giant pair of scissors and cut a large cloth ribbon, and we were in business. Two rides here still didn’t do anything for me, and so I went off to check out the rest of the park.

First was the Vekoma Boomerang. This one ran better than the one at Knotts, if for no other reason than I didn’t get my head bashed in when riding it.

Then I kept going around to Mamba, Wild Thing’s brother in arms. No more than a three-train wait all day, but by the time I got up there they were done cycling one of the two trains empty. I went to get in Row 3, and the seats are soaking wet! It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a dry rag up on the deck to take care of that. Once we got squared away, we went out for a ride. If you could put together the first two drops of Wild Thing with the rest of Mamba, you’d have a Top 10 steel. I’m partial to WT’s parabolic hill, but the headchopper effect of Mamba’s spiral was AWESOME. Plus the fact that the mid-courses were hardly grabbing made for excellent air on the way back. Two rides in a row here.

Timber Wolf’s line was out into the midway, so I decided to take my chances riding Patriot. Two out-and-backs in the queue maze were filled, so I thought I was gonna be there all day. The line went surprisingly quick, only 20 minutes. Patriot is a BLAST! It’s been taken care of much better than close cousin Silver Bullet, and they have a good, brisk crew there.

At this point, I left the park to do some other things I wanted to do around Kansas City. These things included getting my state credit for Kansas, going to the NABC College Basketball Hall of Fame (unimpressive), eating at Rosedale BBQ (much better than Arthur Bryant’s), and going by 12th Street and Vine, the corner from the song Kansas City. By the time I had done all of this and returned to the park, it was about 5:30, and I listened to the Kentucky Derby on the satellite radio in the rental.

Back into the park, and time to get the credits on the top end I hadn’t done yet. Timber Wolf’s line had receded considerably, so I went there. It was only 15 minutes from when I entered to when I got into the station, but it took another half an hour to finally get on the train. Once there, it became clear that this was going to be a crappy ride when we were jackhammering on the lift hill! The main ride was no better. No airtime, jackhammer city, and ROUGH ROUGH ROUGH track. It’s not as bad as Son of Beast, but it’s within striking distance. Anytime a coaster is within striking distance of Son of Beast means it’s a pile of junk.

Another spin on Patriot, then over to Spinning Dragons to get the credit. I rode it with a mother and daughter from a middle school in St. Louis. Did I mention that there were a lot of bands and orchestras in the park today, from schools all over Kansas and Missouri? Line for this was about 20 minutes. Even with a very off-balance load, the thing wasn’t spinning. I wished them a safe trip back to St. Louis, and headed to the back of the park.

At this point, I intentionally took my time going back to Mamba, as it was getting dark and I wanted it to be as dark as I could get it for the night ride on Mamba that I’ve heard so much about. The night ride delivered. In fact, it was so much fun that I did it in the front car and back car. I still like the first two hills on Wild Thing better, but the headchopper effect with the columns is awesome after nightfall.

A funny thing happened on the way to the back of the park. Prowler woke up. Remember how I have said on multiple occasions that Prowler just wasn’t doing anything? I’m willing to bet that Prowler didn’t have many testing days where it operated fully loaded trains for 10 hours running. Cause by the time I got my first twilight ride, around 8:40, the ride had changed. Maybe it was darkness, maybe it was my own perception, or maybe it was the inevitable breaking-in a coaster goes through. Whatever it was, the ride was now AWESOME! I also think the Law of Unintended Consequences was in play with regards to the placement of the on-ride camera. The flash blinds you, then BAM! A hard lateral, and by the time you get your wits back, you’re going into the brakes.

At this point, I also found the single rider line. The guy up in the station was doing a good job of getting the train full, but the marshal at the entrance of the line was not. Frequently, she let groups into the queue. One duo asked me if they thought they could ride together. I told her no, you’re in the SINGLE RIDER queue. This was most unlike the marshals two weeks ago at Kings Island, where if you even looked like you knew the person next to you, you were sent to the main queue.

Anyhow, my final ride of the night came right after they cut the queue. I finally got put in with a group for the back row. I’d been trying to get to either the very front or very back all day, so this was going to be a great way to end the day. Sure enough it was. I was left in breathless hysteria as we rolled back to the station.

The following morning saw another Waffle House breakfast before rolling back to the Twin Cities, including a stop at a casino in BFI where I got a little bit more cash from a blackjack table.

So where does it end up on the ranking list? Prior to the evening session with an invigorated Prowler, my wood list went Rene #1, Viper (SF Chicago) in a hurricane, Prowler, Avalanche, Hades, Coaster in Vancouver, then the field. Now I’m not so sure. I’ve been deliberating for three days whether to put Rene or Prowler at the #1 spot. No, I’m still not made up my mind yet. I’ll have to get some rides on Rene once it opens up to assist in making up my mind. Yes, I know I’m missing a lot of high-profile scalps, but I intend to rectify that sometime soon.

Paul Miller

College Football Weddings and the Trip Back From Seattle

I apologize if I haven't said much in the past few weeks. My stint in Seattle came to an end this past month, and I parlayed that with my cousin's wedding in Colorado to make for an epic trip across the American West. Here are some random thoughts from the trip.

-Most of the interior West would not exist if it were not for irrigation. Washington is supposed to be the Evergreen State, but most of the state is barren scrubland that's barely fit to run cattle on, much less farm.

-I didn't think that there were any mosquitoes in Utah. However, when we got out to change drivers at a rest stop on I-15 north of Ogden, we were ambushed by the monsters. I'm used to Minnesota mosquitoes, but these things were just as numerous and agressive. Washington State mosquitoes are slow, lazy, and easy to kill.

-My car (a 1990 Buick Park Avenue with a 3.8L V6 under the hood) got 28-29 MPG while roaring across Utah and Wyoming averaging 75+ MPH. This is with the trunk and back seat full of my crap.

-Why is 85-octane gas for sale in Utah, Wyoming, and Colorado? Altitude?

-My cousin and his bride are both Colorado Buffaloes, but her family is full of Nebraska Cornhuskers. There was a large TV showing VaTech-Nebraska outside the ballroom at the hotel the reception was being held at. Just as the best man took to the microphone to deliver his speech, yelling was heard out in the lobby. The door was quickly slammed shut, but it was still a bit embarassing. I learned later that this was the Huskers' punt return for a TD.

-I'm not bothered by very many things, but beef feed lots are truly the pillage of the earth. We drove past several in southern Idaho and northern Colorado. I realize the economics of agriculture are forcing up the size of operations, but ye gads! We drove past one on Highway 34 east of Greeley, and there had to be 75,000 head of cattle on about 50 acres of ground. And they stunk for two miles in all directions.

-There is a lot more civilization on Interstate 80 across Nebraska than there is on 90 or 94 across the Dakotas. Maybe that has something to do with the Platte River valley being the traditional highway west (the Pony Express, Oregon Trail, and the transcontinental railroad all parallel Interstate 80 at some point)

-The tallest building in the state of Nebraska is the state capitol building. However, as I saw it from I-80, the second-tallest appears to be the press box at Memorial Stadium. I'm gonna have to go there for a game someday.

-On the way back, we got a partial tour of the Big 12 North. Boulder, Lincoln, and Ames all were on our path of travel.

-I mentioned earlier getting 29-30 MPG roaring across Wyoming. The rest of the family that came to Colorado for the wedding drove an RV, and never bothered to take it above 65 to see what kind of mileage it would get. Following them back, I got the exact same mileage going 65. Go figure. Also, what should have been a 14-hour trip back dragged into 25.5 hours due to their paranoia about going a shred over 65.

-Since I no longer live in Washington, I'm going to have to figure out a new avatar. And no, I do NOT have the "SKIUMAH" plate that I had in my avatar. I got my normal plates before I thought about the "SKIUMAH" custom plate, and I didn't want to go through the trouble of getting another plate. Any suggestions are welcome.

2,275 miles, 8 states, and Lord only knows how many bottles of Coke later, I'm home. I'm looking forward to a bit of an unwind weekend in Madison this weekend.

The 61st Axe: Random Thoughts

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2008
CAMP RANDALL STADIUM AT THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN
MADISON, WISCONSIN

Some random thoughts, game and non, from this weekend's extravaganza in Mad-town:

-I bought a couple of car magnets, and I put them on the side of my car for the trip down on Friday afternoon. I got a few honks and waves, as well as a few middle fingers. You have a nice day too, sir.

-State Street Brats was swamped with Gopher fans on Friday night, taking over the upstairs. If looks could have killed, the Dane County coroner would have been a busy man.

-I don't like how Mad Hatter's is set up. No one downstairs while the upstairs resembles the Black Hole of Calcutta? Set it up like Burrito Loco here.

-I first found Silver Mine subs in Boulder, Colorado. The location next to Hatters' makes for a fine addition to the Madison late night menu.

-Finding cabs at bar time is a beyotch. My hotel was out on High Crossing Blvd., and by the time I found a cab that wasn't hired and got back, it was after 3:00 AM and my buzz was totally gone. Cabbies, if you're hired, TURN YOUR LIGHT OFF!

-Tailgating was great. One buddy of mine made arrangements with his sister's future in-laws for us tailgate with them. We were in the corner of the Regent Apartments parking lot. I also saw GopherLady, NateDawg, Crazy Tony, et al. at the same party.

-I know the U is going to have to learn how to do game-day tailgating once we get back home next year. However, I think that as long as Bob Bruininks is the president of the U, he's going to do everything he can to make it happen. The U is a better place because of him.

-My brother has poo-poohed the Gopher fan base, claming that we're going to want the Dome back as soon as a cold-weather game hits. Yesterday afternoon, it was cold, it was windy, and it started to snow at the end. And I loved it. Just how November football in Big Ten country ought to be. Sure I was frozen through by the time it was over, but it still was great.

-Good grief, was I getting flashbacks to "Punt Kucek Punt" when that kick return got muffed.

-Two points on the little rhubarb during "Jump Around." A) I have no problem with the Gopher bench jumping around like they did. It sure did pump 'em up. The only trouble was that it also pumped up everyone else in the stadium. Seeing the entire stadium doing it was a sight to behold. B) One friend of mine pointed out that the display was borne partly because few of the Gophers had been on the sideline of a game in Madison, and mostly as a "shot across the bow" at Wisconsin, saying something like "Hello Wisconsin! How do you like us breathing down your neck?"

-For all the Gophers' muffs, penalties, screw-ups, and other misadventures, they still had the ball with 2:30 to go with a chance to win or go to overtime. In hindsight, when I planned to come down, all I asked for was a game that wasn't decided midway through the first quarter, as my only other football trip to the Camp was.

-Was it just me, or was the band a little quick to start "Varsity" at the end of the game, before the Axe even got hoisted? I'm watching them hoist the Axe out of the bag just as the students get to the last "U-rah-rah Wisconsin!"

-I realized when I woke up this morning that other than one plate of heavenly cheesy potatoes, I drank ALL of my meals on Saturday. Fortunately, a Mickie's Dairy Bar scrambler was there to save the day. Not only do Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Iowa share heated sporting rivalries, they also share quality breakfast locations (Al's Breakfast, Mickie's, and the Hamburg Inn).

Now only one more game in the Dump. And I still f'ing hate Iowa!

GR

Trip Racap: 2008 CFN Board Meeting

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 2008, 4:30 PM
CONCOURSE B AT MIDWAY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

It’s been a long day already. En route to the 2008 CFN Board Meeting, I’ve gotten caught in morning rush hour traffic in the Twin Cities, driven across a Wisconsin that is now eight different shades of drab gray, and roared through a driving rainstorm on the Northwest Tollway that reduced visibility to almost nothing. By the time I zap a text to ElTigreRex and 847Badgerfan, who are already in Nashville, I’m ready for a drink. However, those two gentlemen have already beaten me to the punch. A few minutes after I message them, Badge calls me back and informs me that I need to take a cab to the hotel, because they have been drinking all day and neither is sober enough to drive to the airport and get me. Ah, the Board Meeting has begun!

A bit of backstory here. It was determined at last year’s extravaganza in Austin, Texas that the next Board Meeting should take place in SEC country. A couple of weeks after that, the executive decision came down that this Board Meeting would take place in Nash-vegas (as the place is often referred to on SEC message boards). Since several of us (or friends of ours) had been there for bowl games, it was agreed that this would be a great place for it.

My flight from Midway to Nashville had a rough climbout due to said rainstorm, but once we got out of the soup, it was a smooth flight. This was the shortest flight that I had taken in at least three years. Being used to 3½ hour hauls to and from the West Coast (and last year’s 6-hour drag to Austin), it was surprising to start descending almost as soon as we got to cruise altitude. The Nashville airport is an easy airport to get through, but I found it to be a dump.

Since the Nashville street grid isn’t set at right angles relative to a north-south, my sense of direction was all discombobulated, and as such I was totally lost on the cab ride to the hotel. I was staying in the same room as TigerKing, and he met me in the lobby to get the hotel keys. Once I dumped my stuff off, we took a cab back downtown. We had a cabbie who was telling jokes that weren’t very tasteful in light of Tuesday’s election, and that’s not even close to describing how this cab ride went.

We met Badge in the lobby of his hotel, and end up eating dinner at an Irish pub. Badge and TigerKing have managed to drink the bar out of Johnny Walker Black, and in punishment we have to suffer through two guys trying to cover various country standards. They ended with a horrendous treatment of the Old Crow Medicine Show’s “Wagon Wheel.” Since we were all quite tired, we decided to withdraw to our hotels for the evening.

Next morning, Badge comes by our hotel with the minivan he rented to shuttle people around in. We head out to the airport to pick up MikeTheTiger and BurntEyes. After that, we head over towards the Vanderbilt campus to scout out places to drink the next day. Since it’s not 11 AM yet, none of the watering holes are open yet. We end up stopping at a place called the Corner Pub that is showing some signs of life. It was only 10:40, but the barmaid agreed to serve us drinks. It was here that most of the gang finally trickled in. UTErin, razorchique, theumrebel, buckeyecraazy, Gatorama, and DavidG all rolled in while we were at the Corner.

Shortly before 3, the party moved over to barbecue restaurant, across 5th Street from the hockey arena. Badge had arranged for us to take over one corner of their outside. This is where SunDevilFroggy, MarqHusker, and his wife came and joined the party. As for the food here, I was not overly impressed by their barbecue. I know that most Southern barbecue is pork-based compared with the Texas beef, but my biggest problem was that it was tough as nails. I’ve eaten good barbecued pork ribs (oddly enough from a joint on the eastside of Seattle), and these were not one of them. Usually pork ribs have a much higher meat-to-bone ratio than beef ribs, but these did not.

It was at this point that Badge pounded on the table and called the 2008 Board Meeting to order. The only thing that he did was order us to drink. Seeing that we had been doing that for some time already, the call ended up being more a “Bottoms up!” command than anything else.

We stayed here until nightfall, which is when the gang briefly retired to their hotels to change clothes and possibly eat supper. After a couple of hours, we met up at The Big Bang, a dueling piano bar on Broadway. I’d never been to one of these places, and it was pretty crazy. It was loud, raucous, bawdy, and an all-out blast. All things considered, the first day of the meeting went pretty well.

On the way back to the hotel, someone suggested that we stop through the Waffle House that is a hundred yards from the hotel. I’m riding with LilDawg, BuckeyeCraazy, and UTErin, and they’re looking at me as if I ought to find the number of this place so we can call in a to-go order. I tell them that I’ve never been in a Waffle House before in my life, and I haven’t a clue what to order. So they order their food, and by the time that they pass the phone to me, we’re pulling into the parking lot. Wonderful timing. They convince me to get an order of grits to try and eat. We end up eating our breakfast haul in Erin and BC’s room. LilDawg insists that the grits are the best thing since sliced bread, but I found them to be more efficient as brick mortar than as breakfast food.

Saturday morning dawned with continental breakfast at the hotel, then everyone converging on the Vanderbilt campus. We got parked about 10:30, and several of us walked into the campus to find a bookstore so we could get some souvenir swag. The campus of Vanderbilt University is a gorgeous little gem in the middle of Nashville. Both Badge and I commented that it was very similar to Northwestern University in Evanston (small but, and then a massive, modern hospital).

We had been recommended to a joint called Sam’s Place for watching the day’s games. A friend of Burny had recommended it, and it did not disappoint. The place opened at 11:00, and before long it became college football central. Other than our bunch, I counted at least a dozen different school colors in there, just for the early games. Sadly, unlike in the Buck Owens song, there were no waitresses named Hattie from Cincinnati or Rita, who hailed from Pasadena.

The 18 of us took over a corner of the front veranda, pushing tables together in a large L formation. At first, the waitress who was working our section of the restaurant was worried about us making our $10 minimum. We assured her that she would not be disappointed. The food and beer quickly started flowing while we digested the early games. Gator and I focused on the 91st Little Brown Jug, while everyone else paid attention to their games. If their team was on, they watched it, but most of the freelancers were watching the wild gunfight-at-the-OK-Corral that was Kentucky-Georgia. For a neutral observer, it must have been an interesting thing to see 18 different people screaming and yelling at different screens at the same time, trying to figure out which was which.

At this point, I should also mention that the city was overflowing with Florida Gator fans. I had at least six of them on my plane down from Chicago on Thursday. The actual makeup of the crowd at Sam’s was very heavy Florida Gator, with the other colors sprinkled among them, much like chunks of ice in a giant blue Slurpee.

The early games ended, and it appeared there was a bit of a “shift change,” if you will. Folks from the early teams left, and fans from the late games came in. Included in this bunch were a few Penn State fans in the back of the restaurant, and a decent-sized contingent of bammers at the other end of the veranda. As the game went on, someone in the group of bammers kept letting off these high-pitched, grating, fingernails-on-the-blackboard style screams whenever anything happened to Bama. Razorchique thought that it was a guy for a little while, only to find that the guilty part was a small, 5-foot-nothing beanpole of a girl.

We took our group picture when all three of the 2:30 games were at halftime, and then things got REAL interesting in the second half. Penn State had their chances to draw away from Iowa, but the chickens played some tough D. For one afternoon, all the SEC folks in the bar became really big Iowa Hawkeye fans. Also, for some reason that I could not fathom, all the Florida fans in the bar were cheering for Bama.

The crowd exploded when Iowa hit their FG, but Badge and I laughed our butts off when the Idiots Out Wandering Around students charged the field with one second left, setting up what could have been a big choke job. But give the Hawks credit, they were able to avoid a The Play-like return. They’re going to be a tough out the rest of the way.

The seminal moment of the weekend took place late in regulation of LSU-Alabama, after PSU-Iowa had ended. All of us at the CFN table were cheering like mad for LSU, partially because MikeDeTiger was in our midst, and mostly because the shrieking bammer from the other end of the veranda was getting REALLY annoying at this point. Anyway, John Parker Wilson broke off a 40-something yard touchdown run. The Florida and Bama fans were going nuts, with plenty of shrieking. The more eagle-eyed observers among us had noticed that the Bama backfield was littered with yellow penalty markers. Sure enough, it was a holding penalty that wiped the touchdown, and caused our table to go just as ballistic. The blocked field goal at the end of regulation drew a similar reaction.

After the end of overtime, we all closed our tabs, and then the group split up. Big kudos to the waitress. How she kept our drinks filled and the tabs straightened out is beyond me. Most folks went to another bar, but some of us decided to see if we could actually get into the game without forking over an arm and a leg. Several contacts assured us that it wouldn’t be any trouble. The walk to the stadium was kind of surreal. Normally, with the game a short time away from kicking off, there’s a lot more buzz and foot traffic around the campus. There wasn’t much of anything happening until you were three blocks from the stadium. We hawked tickets for $40, and went in, hoping that we could meet up at some point. The five of us that went in were SDF, MDT, LilDawg, BuckeyeCraazy, and myself.

Vanderbilt Stadium is by far the smallest stadium in the SEC, and may well be the smallest football stadium in any BCS conference east of the Rockies. I’ve been to a few stadiums in different portions of the country, and I have to tell you that this was the worst college football stadium I’ve ever been in. Even Reser Stadium at Oregon State, which has a similar capacity, is vastly superior to Vandy. Most of the places I’ve been would eat this joint for lunch and still have room for dessert. When we got in there, the stadium was well over half full of Gator fans. I am aware that football is a distant afterthought on the brainpower campuses, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Either way, this was the first time I’d seen an SEC game in person. A basketball-sized pep band from Florida was there, and they were keeping the crowd well into it. On the field, the Gators were doing whatever they wanted to whenever they wanted to. The offense looked like a well-oiled machine that was FAST. The Gators didn’t start in their own territory until after the second quarter, which meant that all the action was in front of us in the early goings.

The five of us got back together early in the second quarter, and we quickly found ourselves surrounded by kindred folks who wore a similar spread of gear that we had (We had tOSU, Miami Ohio, and a couple of others around us). They thought it was really cool how we all post on a message board and get together once a year.

The game was lousy, and the only thing that kept us in there as long as we did (we stayed to the end of the 3rd when Urban Meyer pulled Tim Tebow and Co.) was the funnel cakes the ladies ordered at halftime. BuckeyeCraazy’s peacoat ended up covered with powdered sugar, since she happened to be on the downwind end of all the funnel cakes.

Once we got out of the stadium, we started calling around to see where everyone went. It turns out that most folks had gone back to the hotel, with a few going back to bed. We stopped at a Quick-Sack for some beer, and joined the gang that was at our Holiday Inn Express. We watched the postgame from USC-Cal and Texas Tech-Oklahoma, drank more beer, and discussed where we might want to take this flying circus next year.

On Sunday morning, the people who were staying at our hotel, plus SDF and MDT who cabbed it over from their hotel, invaded the Waffle House that was a hundred yards from our hotel. I’m a big fan of the waffles and hash browns, but the biscuits and gravy were ice cold. We bid our adieus outside here, which is always tough, but we know that we’ll do it again before too long.

Granted, I’ve only been to two of these things, but I’m always a bit sad when I leave events like this. I’ve had a really crappy-ass year, but I know that for one weekend every year, everything can be right with the world.

The drive from Midway Airport in Chicago back to Minnesota was long but uneventful. I will let you guys in on one thing I do every time I drive across the border from Wisconsin to Minnesota. As part of a college song podcast, I have “Varsity” on my iPod. I play “Varsity,” then go right to the Rouser with the full opening fanfare. I’ve timed it such that when they get to the start of the Rouser, I’m crossing the river bridge into civilization/Minnesota. On a related note, I also play “Hail Minnesota” whenever I leave the state. Go figure.

I’ve got two more college football games on my slate, this week in Madison for the Axe game, then the last Gopher game ever in the Metrodome the following Saturday. I’ll catch you then.

GR

“Trip Recap: Ohio State at Wisconsin, October 4, 2008”

“Trip Recap: Ohio State at Wisconsin, October 4, 2008”
OR
“I didn’t just drive all the way from Minneapolis to watch an NFL game, did I?”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2008
CAMP RANDALL STADIUM AT THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN
MADISON, WISCONSIN

This past weekend brought me down to Madison for a rare night game at Camp Randall Stadium, this time against the Ohio State Buckeyes.

Perhaps I had better back up and cue you in on the backstory of what brought me to Madtown this weekend. It’s been a crazy month for me. I’ve moved back to the Midwest from Seattle over the course of September, as well as dealing with/staying out of the way of all of my blood relatives at a wedding in Colorado. To celebrate surviving this gauntlet, as well as reinforcing my enjoyment of college football, I asked 847Badgerfan if I could come down to Madison for a night game at the Camp against Ohio State. He gladly agreed, and I made the necessary arrangements to make the epic drive across Wisconsin. Before you call me bat-guano crazy for going to Madison to see a non-Gopher Badger game, I like college football too much to let something petty like archrivalry get in the way of enjoying the game.

Other than the 400-mile distance, the drive from Minneapolis to Kenosha on Friday afternoon was uneventful, for the most part. On I-894 around downtown Milwaukee, a truck was stopped in the left lane, jamming up traffic on the southbound side. I thought he had killed his motor until I got around him and saw why he was stopped in the traffic lane instead of pulled off to the median. It appeared that someone had hit a dog, and he stopped in the traffic lane to get the corpse off to the side. That drive should get a nice fat illegal stopping ticket.

I’ve been trying all summer to get down there, but this was the first time I’d been down to see Badge’s boat. He has a very nice setup, and the other folks that were there were fantastic people. We ate dinner with a one of them at the Kenosha Yacht Club. Badge’s friend then brought us back to his boat and served us the most lethal white Russians any of us have ever had. There was no messing around with those drinks. After three of them, we staggered across the dock to our sleeping quarters.

6:00 Saturday morning came way too early, and after hitting the boathouse for a shower, we were on the road to Madison. Before we got on I-94 in Kenosha, we stopped into a McDonalds for a McMuffin to keep our stomachs occupied. I saw a stack of Milwaukee Journal-Sentinels stacked next to the register. Something about “UW band” caught my eye, and I went over for a closer look. The headline, above the fold and in boldface, said something along the lines of “UW Marching Band Shelved.” Below was the article outlining why the band had gotten suspended. I showed this in disbelief to Badge and Gator, and it took a while for the news to sink into their heads as well. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that they were feeling just as awful as I was.

There was a lot of company on 94 between Milwaukee and Madison, but for some reason the coffee I had with breakfast was doing nothing for me, as I was yawning like crazy all the way up to the hotel. We parked the other vehicles at the hotel, then headed over to their tailgate lot on Regent Street. We arrived shortly after 10:00 AM, and there was already more life around the campus than there has ever been 9 hours before a night kickoff in Minneapolis.

Between my seized-up back and a wicked hangover from those white Russians, I was not feeling too chipper. After the first round of brats had been served, I crawled up in the Tahoe for a brief siesta. I was out of it for about 40 minutes, and I felt much better once I woke up.

The band suspension was the talk of the tailgate, at least in the early goings. Personally, I’m withholding judgment on the situation. On the one hand, not having the band at Camp Randall was a loss not only for the Badgers and their faithful, but all of college football. If the University of Wisconsin Marching Band isn’t the best band in the country, they aren’t far from it. This also has the makings of a nasty power struggle, with all accounts saying that the director made no consultation with any higher-ups before making the call. On the other hand, whatever happened on that bus must have been a real doozy in order for the director to get that wound up. Regardless of what comes out of this, I think it’s safe to say that the UW band won’t be going to Ann Arbor again anytime soon.

The spread of food put out at the tailgate was hard to beat. Bratwurst on multiple occasions, hamburgers, hot homemade soup, pulled pork, macaroni and cheese, lots of dips, bacon-wrapped jalapeños, and probably a dozen other things that I forgot about. Every bit of it was fantastic. I really liked the mac-and-cheese, not just for the spiral noodles they used, but whatever else got mixed into it. Someone said it was creamed corn.

Gatorama had not been feeling well all day, and around 5:00 he decided to go back to the hotel. When trying to unload his ticket, I found out the hard way how rancid the re-sale market was. A little while later, WifeOfBadgerfan went back to the hotel to stay with him. I managed to get $45 for the two of them, and I had to work very hard to get that much.

The band getting shelved made a big difference in game atmosphere. I’ve been there before for a Gopher game, and even though the game was effectively over midway through the first, the band kept everyone much more involved than if nothing was keeping the crowd around. Canned music played with the volume pegged doesn’t make for much of a college football game. I didn’t drive all the way down from Minneapolis just to watch an NFL game. However, the crowd in there last night was a very smart bunch. They knew when to

I also found it VERY strange that the recording of “Varsity” that was played during halftime wasn’t played after the end of the game. The tOSU fans and team were belting away on “Carmen Ohio” even without any musical accompaniment, “Varsity” shows up at all other Badger events, and even “Hail Minnesota” is a postgame staple at all of our athletic events. Someone dropped the ball big-time on that one.

On the way back to the tailgate lot, a conversation was overheard between two Ohio State fans. It went something like this: “I have heard nothing good about the Wisconsin fans ever since that 2003 game. I was the only Buckeye in a whole section of Badgers, but it ended up being a great time as we were surrounded by great people.” I didn’t notice any other altercations between Buckeyes and Badgers, and the Buckeye fans that came by our lot were all very friendly.

The group that tailgates with Badge has some of the nicest folks you ever met in your life. I plan on being down there again on November 15 for the Gopher game.

Sunday morning I went to Mass at the UW Newman Center at the west end of State Street, then ate breakfast at Mickey’s Dairy Bar, across from the Fieldhouse on Monroe Street. Mickey’s is a must-eat place for visitors to Madison, as the pancakes are big and very, very tasty. It poured rain most of the way back to the Twin Cities, so I got a free car wash out of the deal.

Some brief thoughts on the actual game:

This isn’t the first time that BB’s time management skills have cost the Badgers a win, and nor will it be the last.

I can see John Clay becoming an Anthony Davis-style thorn in the Gophers’ side. It seemed as if Davis always went for about 250 yards and 3 TDs whenever he played the Gophs. However, that would require the coaches to keep giving him the rock, and the Badger coaching staff seems quite content with PJ Hill getting stuffed at the line of scrimmage every time.

Terelle Pryor is a horse. There were a few rookie mistakes (a couple of bad sacks where he had all day to throw it away and took a 10+ yard loss), but there was still plenty of brilliance too. He was able to shake off the first man more than once without slowing down.

Say what you will about the Badgers’ inability to defend it, but that option was a brilliant call by tOSU on the go-ahead TD. Put the ball in the hands of your two best players (Pryor at QB and Wells as the pitchman) and let ‘em loose. Granted, Wells hadn’t been doing much in the second half, but it was still a great call. I once saw the Gophers run an option on a had-to-have 2-point conversion, with Brian Cupito at QB and Marion Barber III and Lawrence Maroney as the pitchmen. Needless to say, they got the conversion.

If the Badgers had Adam Weber at the helm, they would be undefeated and a sizable favorite over Penn State this Saturday night. Everidge single-handedly cost them this game. On the last series, the Badgers had way too far to go and not enough time to get there for Everidge to be running around in the backfield like that, on 1st down no less. If no one is open, roll out, throw it away, and try it again on second down. And make sure you don’t go over the line of scrimmage before you do. Instead, the last interception gets thrown without a single red jersey within striking distance of catching the pass.

A big thank you to everyone who I ran into this weekend for making it a blast. If you ever get the chance to go to a night game in Madison, go!

TR: The Super-Sized Barnyard Road Trip, 1/30/08-2/3/08

THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, 2008
4:55 AM EST
ON THE RAMP AT DETROIT METRO-WAYNE COUNTY AIRPORT
ROMULUS, MICHIGAN

It’s been a short rest period onboard Northwest Airlines flight #208, a red-eye from Seattle to Detroit. As I gather up my stuff on this very empty 757, I take inventory of what I’ve got before I leave the plane. Rolloff? Check. Winter coat? Check. Messenger bag? Messenger bag…uh-oh….

Five hours earlier at SeaTac airport…

Bread bowls of Ivar’s clam chowder are one of the greatest things ever invented. First you have Ivar’s clam chowder, which is the best clam chowder known to man. Second, you have a bread bowl. Put ‘em together, and how much better can you get? Anyhow, I’d put my messenger bag on the chair across the table from me, and after I’d scarfed down the chowder I grabbed my coat and rolloff and head for the gate. The only problem is that I forgot to pick up my messenger bag, which means that my iPod, headphones, and a bunch of other semi-important things will be spending the weekend at SeaTac Airport, if not in someone else’s bag.

However, seeing that there wasn’t anything I could do about it until 11 AM Eastern (thanks to the time difference) I figured I better find a nice, quiet, unused gate and try to sleep for a while. Fortunately, even though Northwest has flights to just about everywhere out of DTW, several gates do go unoccupied, and I’m able to zonk out for a while, until it’s time to go get the rental car.

I get the rental car (a Mazda G6), and I decide to drive the freeway around downtown Detroit. Good grief, is that a depressing drive. I went around the waterfront past the Cobo Hall and Joe Louis Arena, and is that downtown ever dead. This is at 9:00 on a Thursday morning and NOTHING is happening.

I decide to get out of there while I still have all my limbs attached, and go back out I-94 towards Ann Arbor. By this time, the lost-and-found offices at SeaTac have opened, and I’m able to call the missing-object report in from a Denny’s on the way to Ann Arbor.

Getting off the freeway, and I drive up M-243 into the campus of the University of Michigan. The campus is fairly accessible by vehicle, and I do some scouting out of locations of potential bar visits later in the evening. I must admit, the University of Michigan campus is nothing to write home about. However, most Big Ten campuses aren’t much to see in the dead of winter, either, so that isn’t a very good comparison point.

I grab some lunch at Wendy’s back out by the freeway, then I meet the rest of the trip at the Hampton Inn on Victors Way. It had been a 12-hour trip by coach bus from Minneapolis, and the folks aboard certainly looked the part. One friend of mine started to drink as soon as the buses had left Williams Arena 12 hours before (about the same time I left Seattle), and had not had a good time of it a few hours later. We got checked in, got our room assignments, took our crap up there, and then got back on the bus to go on a tour of Michigan’s athletic facilities.

The bus pulled up to the loading dock of Crisler Arena, and we get out and meet our tour guide, Bill. We go on a tour of the Wolverine athletic facilities, including their pool (The UMN Aquatic Center is nicer), fieldhouse (a wash), and their studying facilities. I wasn’t overly impressed by any of this until we went into Yost Ice Arena, home of Wolverine hockey. As the Barnyard student section, we have a keen appreciation for ambiance of older arenas, and what we saw at Yost definitely had that. Wolverine fans think very highly of Yost, similar to how Gopher fans revel in The Barn’s atmosphere. Everyone on the tour agreed that Yost was the coolest thing that we saw the whole time there.

Back over to Crisler Arena we went. Our tour guide explained to us that due to construction in the Big House, it was impossible for us to go in there. This was disappointing, both to us and to him. We went around Crisler Arena, and were thoroughly unimpressed by the place. The place appears to have been built in the same timeframe as the old St. Paul Civic Center and the US Bank Arena in Cincinnati, and also hasn’t been reupholstered since then. The colors of the arena are straight out of the late 60s.

This concluded our campus tour, and we retreated to the hotel. I went to the liquor store across the freeway and helped re-stock a few portable medicine cabinets, then returned to the hotel for Wendy’s supper and getting ready for the game. By the time 6:00 rolled around, we were all feeling pretty good. Jump on the buses, and they roll up into the parking lot of the high school kitty corner from the Big House. Erin goes up to the ticket office and gets our tickets while we make the cold walk across the parking lot and to the entrance of Crisler Arena.

I knew beforehand that Wolverine basketball was a distant third in importance behind football and hockey, but I had no idea just how far down the totem pole it was. By the time I got through the ticket turnstile and into the concourse on the opposite end of the arena from where the Barnyard was sitting, it was clear that we were going to have complete control of the crowd noise. In fact, I think we got some of the ushers very mad for yelling, cheering, chanting, and carrying on, and it was 15 minutes before tipoff.

We stand for “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and then it’s game time. The Barnyard is quite merciless on the few thousand that bother to show up to Crisler for this Thursday night game. In addition to your “Defense,” “Let’s go Gophers,” and other standard basketball chants, we also go after the miserable crowd with “Where’s your students?” among other things not repeatable on a family message board. At the end, some of the folks on the bus are aware of the fact that if the Gophers win, this will be win #400 for coach Tubby Smith, so as the clock ticks down, chants of “Win 400!” go up. The team and Tubby appear very grateful that we made the trek there, as they make their way up the tunnel. We for everyone to leave, then sing the Rouser while everyone is hanging around the tunnel.

Back to the hotel, where everyone got ready to go to the bar. Our bunch decided to go to the Brown Jug, and over the course of the evening, most of the people on the trip end up there. It’s a good thing that I brought a change of clothes, because Michigan’s indoor smoking ban stops at 10:00 PM, so you can smoke in the bar after that time. In this day in age, wherever you can smoke, people will. The bar quickly assumed Flying Burrito Brothers proportions (Dim lights, thick smoke, and loud, loud music). As for the atmosphere, anywhere outside Minnesota where the Minnesota block M is prominently displayed is fine by me. The patrons were surprised that there were so many Minnesota people at the bar. Once we explained to them why we were there, they were glad to drink with us. Drinkers in Ann Arbor are most cordial to Gopher fans, unlike receptions in certain other Big Ten cities. In fact, we got several drinks and shots bought for us for that exact reason. At bar close, we stumbled across the street to this New York-style pizza place, which had very good pizza for 3 AM.

Waking up the next morning, I was glad to hit the shower, and bid adieu to the Barnyard crew. The rest of the Barnyard packed up to get on the buses back to Minneapolis, while I was going to go up to East Lansing and look around the campus of Michigan State. Unfortunately, I dropped the key to my rental car somewhere in the snow around the car (it had snowed overnight), and wasted the rest of the morning, a goodly portion of the afternoon, and too much of my money getting the mess resolved. By the time I got things squared away, it was too late to go to East Lansing. So I lit out for my accommodations that evening, which was at Castaway Bay Indoor Waterpark and Resort at Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio.

Around Toledo and onto the Ohio Turnpike I went. By all accounts, it was a miserable day, even more miserable than Seattle was at that time of the year. The sky was gray, the traffic was heavy, and what made it worse was that the terrain was as flat as a pancake. At least the cloud layer in Washington State is above the mountains, so there’s something to look at. Not so much across northern Ohio. Fortunately, the Ohio Turnpike operates by a Pennsylvania-model toll road system (ticket in, ticket out). I get off at SR-4 and begin making the convoluted journey into the town of Sandusky.

If there was ever a town that relied on one thing to keep it going, so does Sandusky rely on Cedar Point. During the indirect drive from the Turnpike to the Lake Erie resort district, I lost count of how many businesses (including several hotels) were closed down for the season. By the time I drove out to the Cedar Point Causeway to see the world-famous roller coaster skyline of The Point, I was convinced that by virtue of the desolation of the town, a handful of cannon could hold the town against an army, for there was little on the streets for the shots to hit.

Castaway Bay is one of few signs of life in the town on a Friday night in February. I hadn’t been in an indoor waterpark that resembled the size of this one (Sorry Wisconsin Dells), so I took my time exploring the place. The indoor waterpark was certainly big, but nothing out of line from what I was expecting. More details of it can be found on their website.

The following morning, I drove from Sandusky to the campus of Ohio State University in Columbus. Driving down US 250 between Sandusky and where it picks up I-71 (Mansfield?), I find out some of the peculiarities of Ohio. The highway grid is an interesting combination of the right angles prescribed by the North West Ordinance, but overlaid with important point-to-point highways, similar to the highway grid of Pennsylvania, except sans mountains.

I slogged my way to I-71 and roared into Columbus and the campus of The Ohio State University. I came in on the road north of The Shoe, and had to walk around to try seeing the stadium. Everything the Big House isn’t The Shoe is. My first impression of the place is “Whoa!” It presents an aura of intimidation that the Big House sorely lacks. Sadly, I was unable to get into the seating bowl to take a look around. However, I was able to peek inside the fence between the open end of the horseshoe and the south stands.

After walking across the campus to some sub shop on College Ave. (I think, the exact name escapes me), the sun finally came out for the remainder of the drive across Ohio to Cincinnati. It was an unseasonably warm day (54 degrees and sunny on February 2), but it made for a pleasant drive down I-71 into Cincinnati. The freeway is flat and boring for much of the way, but starts getting very hilly near the Kings Island amusement park. While driving past it, it is hard to ignore just how spread out the park is. It took two full minutes at 72 MPH to go the length of it. The terrain keeps getting hillier the rest of the way into downtown Cincinnati. I intentionally go past the exit I’m supposed to turn off at so I can cross the Ohio River and claim that I’ve been in Kentucky.

After this little expedition (27 down, 23 to go), I backtrack along I-71 to the exit that eventually takes me to a friend’s place that I know through the coaster circles. The reason that I’ve come to Cincinnati is that he has season basketball tickets at Xavier University, his alma mater. Seeing that there is a home game on this Saturday evening, and I was within driving distance, I contacted him to see if he could get a ticket so I could see yet another college basketball venue. I pulled into the driveway (he had a large XU flag hanging on his porch), went inside, and we discussed things for a while before heading over to the XU campus.

Xavier University is a small Jesuit college on the north side of Cincinnati that has a fairly extensive basketball history. A poster on the Gopher Hole suggested that the accolades that get heaped on Gonzaga should go XU’s way. They’ve got a couple of NIT titles, as well as a very new arena/dining hall, the Cintas Center. We got over to campus a little bit early, and he was able to show me around the relatively small campus. Before the game, we stop at the student union for a blue beer. It’s just Bud Light with a bit of food coloring in the tap, but it’s certainly interesting.

Then it’s over to the Cintas Center. The seating at Cintas is an interesting configuration. The lower bowl goes all the way around the court, but the upper deck ends at the baselines on the north end, and a large ballroom occupies the space the “upper” deck should be. The student section is in the lower bowl below the ballroom, and the area is designated by benches, instead of the chairbacks around the rest of the arena. The XU student section is a lot like the hockey student section at Mariucci Arena: unorganized, unoriginal, and full of drunk people too busy to care about the game. Too busy, except for one minute detail: what my friend David refers to as the Wheel of Death. This is essentially a large, flat pinwheel with a spiral painted on it. When the opponent is shooting free throws, the general idea is that the wheel is stood up and spun in line with the shooter’s eye and the backboard, distracting him and making him miss. This wasn’t working the time I was there.

What I liked about Cintas is that it didn’t try to be what it wasn’t. It didn’t try to overwhelm you with either numbers or blaring pyrotechnics. They knew (and let you know) that you were in the home of the Xavier Musketeers, but let it go at that. The crowd was smart, and knew when to get in with the ebb and flow of the game.

Tonight’s game was against LaSalle, and it was a game that the Muskies drew off to a hard-fought win. Another thing I liked about CIntas is the fact that they provide halftime stats to the crowd. At the end of the concourse, near the entrance to the ballroom, there is a printer that kicks out copies of the halftime stats page, available to anyone who asks.

After the end of the game, we got back in my rental, and I drove to a Skyline Chili parlor to give Cincinnati-style chili a try. For those of you who haven’t sampled it, chili done Cincinnati-style means it’s poured over a pile of spaghetti. It’s not overly spicy but it’s very tasty, and I devour it with gusto.

We go back to the friend’s house, where I use his laptop to check my email, the Gopher Hole, and check into my flight back to Seattle from Detroit at noon the following afternoon. I thank him for the use of his place to stay, the tickets, and that I’ll see him again soon. Six hours of topsy-turvy sleep go by, then a long, boring drive up I-75 back to the Detroit airport. I’m finally able to get officially-printed highway maps of Ohio and Michigan at a couple of rest areas along the way.

I return my car, and I go upstairs to see if there’s any way to update my seating assignment (Northwest’s 757s are configured such that a very tall guy like me would like an exit row if at all possible). Seeing that the flight is completely full, I print my boarding pass and head for the shortest security line I can find. This takes me to the upper departure level, where two lines are significantly shorter than the others. I soon find out why. The reason that these lines are so short is that in addition to the metal detector, these lines have what I call a “huffer.” It blasts little puffs of air around your person and analyzes the collected sample for any sort of explosive residue. I hadn’t seen anything like this before, and I didn’t think the TSA agents had either, because it took a LONG time to get through the line.

The flight back to Seattle was its usual long, boring self. It was Super Bowl Sunday, and immediately upon arrival in Seattle, I drove up to a restaurant in South Lake Union to watch it with some friends. While at this restaurant, I was wearing a Xavier sweatshirt I had picked up the previous evening. On the way to the bathroom once, a guy coming out of the john saw my sweatshirt and said “Go Flyers!” I knew from before that the Xavier Musketeers and the Dayton Flyers had been archenemies for a very long time, but that was the first time I’d ever seen it firsthand. The Giants beat the Patriots, I went over to Mass at the UDub Newman Center, and then I went home exhausted, ending the four-day odyssey known as the Super-Sized Barnyard Road Trip.

Paul