Last weekend’s game against Florida was, as one of my former coworkers would put it, both tragedous and disasterful. I’m not even sure where to begin discussing how bad it was, because the day began so peppy and full of hope.
We had inflatable mascots by our tailgate tents:
We had planes towing marriage proposals over the stadium:
We had tailgates:
We had bigger tailgates, possibly the world’s largest:
And let’s not forget the Gator bashing. There was Gator dragging:
Even Gator stabbing, a tablescape décor worthy of Sandra Lee:
Sadly, there was no Gator defeating. At halftime, when my gate shift ended, we were down twenty to zero, and the Big Orange Army decided to pack it in and head home:
You can hardly blame them. If we keep playing this poorly, by the end of the season you won’t be able to give tickets away, much less scalp them on every corner.