Editor’s Note: This “journal” was written by Eric, a friend of the blog. It chronicles his recent weekend as a Trojan Fan in Lincoln, NE for the USC – Nebraska game. Dave, aka “D-Bo”, is accompanying him.
Nebraska
Day 1, 4:30am
Alarm first rings. I roll over, hazily see the time and hit snooze figuring Dave will be in momentarily to wake me for our 6am flight out of LAX. Let’s flashback…
Eve of Day 1, 10:30pm
Dave gets a call, his buddy Romeo who’s been in town is en route to Hermosa Beach to go out on Pier. Who are we to deny a friend’s drinking rites? We decide it’d be fine to go out to the bars, pack post, and wake up by 4:30am. So, to the bars we went. Three Jack & Cokes and a few shots later we find ourselves starting at the 2am closing time and the need to pack looming…
Day 1, 5:00am
I finally realize Dave is not coming to wake me. By the time we actually mobilized and caught a cab we realized we wouldn’t make our flight. This marks the fourth time out of the last six times flying that I have “slept” through my plane…I am going for the record. Fortunately, there was another flight at 7am and we (were already going to have) a three hour layover in Chicago.
Day 1, 7:05am
Two things. First, is there really not enough room on an airplane to space the chairs so that the last row can lean back? Jerks. Second, is there any more nauseating of a smell than an airplane lavatory?
Day 1, 5:00pm (Nebraska Time)
Finally touch down in Lincoln. Looking out the window of our little jet plane provides a solid view of the land, an amazing display of absolute flatness as far as the eye can see. The terminal houses a small restaurant, four gates, and two baggage claims. A jump from my usual LAX experience. Our Hertz visit already gave us our first Husker experience. We had been given a car that was already “Huskered out” for the game. Super.
Day 1, 6:00pm
Driving around Lincoln, we have determined there really is only a few block radius that needs to be visited – the region between O Street and 9th to O Street and 14th, the area of downtown just south of the Nebraska campus and football stadium (which isn’t surprising since according to our map and my finger-mile check the town of Lincoln is a little over 81 square miles large).
Day 1, 6:30pm
We check into the hotel (the second Days Inn we tried). Quaint place, the second floor appears to be held up by super glue, plywood, and cigarette smoke. We head off to downtown to find some liquor…which is easier said than done. An hour later we find our first liquor store. I though we were doing well fitting in, but I guess not. The (locals) immediately chimed in what a friendly warning. “You guys are here for the game, huh? You have to watch out, people around here take it seriously. Last time after Texas squeaked out a win there were three Texas boys out. They were minding their own business, but one of the Nebraska boys screamed out ‘F#@k you!’ and the onslaught started. One of the Texas guys got hit in the head with a beer bottle, his friends ran off as a group of Huskers beat the first one to sleep…So when you boys lose…don’t say anything stupid.” It’s gonna be a fun weekend.
Day 1, 8:30pm
We go out to a local little Mexican shop for some grub. They don’t understand when I ask for my food with proper pronunciation*, so Dave orders with a crap accent. As an added bonus, we get a big ass spider when we pick up our food that freaks Dave out. Apparently he really hates spiders. Note to self: use that.
* Eric was born in Puerto Rico. He’s not actually Puerto Rican, but he likes to think he is.
Day 1, 11pm
Editor’s note: The handwriting has become much more difficult to read and transcribe. Please forgive me if it doesn’t make sense.
Cabby claims offense will put up 24-30 points on SC. Don’t bet on it. Duffy’s = No. Figue out later it’s the one Trojan bar in Lincoln. Going to go find the locals…
Day 1, 1:28am Probably should be: Day 2, 1:28am, but I’m just fortunate Eric was able to get the pen to the paper at this point.
I don’t have enough testosterone to give a shit.
D-Bo: “How long did you dance with the girl at the bar?”
Eric: “Probably an hour. If she wanted to go home with me, she would. I won’t beg.”
Day 1, 2:00am Should be Day 2, 2:00am, but whatever. Worst handwriting yet.
Same cabby: “Nebraska’s weak link is their secondary.” Man, if their run defense was their strength, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t try to pass too much.
Day 1, 1:46am I don’t even know what to say here…have we gone back in time?
Dave still maintains it’s my fault for not getting…Joycelynn? But I say if she wanted me, I was there. I won’t beg.
Day 2, 1;27pm
Just woke up…ouch, my brain. Getting ready for a 2:30 tee off time. We were planning a 10am course crash with our new friend Joycelynn, though obviously didn’t wake up for that. Apparently she didn’t either. She said she’s too hungover from last night and is blowing off all her classes. She’s lucky I am only around for a weekend, otherwise I might ruin her life like I do all my friends (according to D-Bo). Rule #1 from Dave last night: Always get the bartender’s name. Rule #2: Don’t let a guy swoop in at the last minute and take your girl. Observation #1 from last night: After drinking, my penmanship goes to shit. Observation #2: Dollar beers is the shit. All beers here are a buck. I may never leave.
Day 2, 6:05pm
Final golf score: Dave 83, Eric 113. I laugh that he could only beat me by 30. I feel like I won. Kinda the same feeling Nebraska will have if SC only wins by 30. As a side note, there really are no good radio stations here.
Day 2, 9:38pm
Woke up from the nap, get a little pre-game action and heading to Brother’s to meet up with our guide, Jocelynn. (Note how her name has several different spellings.) Apparently Will Ferrell is at a bar called Sidetracks but there is a two hour wait. Would be cool to hang out with Frank the Tank though. Side note, Joe…seriously? You emailed my sister about your blog site? Come on.
Day 3, 12:00am
Game day bitches! We have been invited to tailgate with our new buddy Adam, show us how they do out here
Day 4, 1:00pm
But not for the grace of God, I should have died or been arrested yesterday. We never made it to Adam’s tailgate, instead chose to go downtown to the bars to watch some football. Notre Dame and Michigan looked atrocious. After a few hours of beer and shots I needed a nap to recoup so I went back to the car. Dave came an hour later and woke me with some new friends. I guess he promised them beer out of our car. At any rate, they gave us a ride in their van to the stadium. I was trying to hit on two girls as Dave and posse rolled up. They took us as close as they could and we walked the rest. Memorial Stadium is a beautiful stadium, but I don’t really remember being in it. I lost Dave after a girl stole his SC hat and ran after her. Kissed her as she said “You are a hot SoCal boy.” Good work D-Bo. Good work. We met back up inside trying to find our seats, which were at the very top of the stadium behind the end zone.
Day 4, 2:10pm
WHERE THE HELL ARE MY BUFFALO WINGS!?! ARGH! SO HUNGRY! Continuing to piece together last night…who is Katie? I don’t know but I guess she called me. I don’t remember any of the game. But, the fans here have been more than friendly. I like this town, good people. We were freezing our asses off at the top of the stadium and a woman gave us her blanket. Fine, we looked like idiots drunk and huddled up, but it was a nice gesture. After the game we hit the bars up again, trying in vain to get Dave’s hat back. We never found the girl again, so I guess it has been sacrificed to the football gods. Some time passed, I don’t really remember from 6pm-2am. (I called Eric during this “blackout”. He told me that he had forgotten his credit card at the bar the night before. When he went back the next day to retrieve it, instead of asking the bartender for the card back, he just asked for another drink.) After we got kicked out of the bars at closing time we chatted with some guys about how we are an amazing team. They just like saying how they were happy to have the privilege to see us play. WHERE THE F#@K IS MY FOOOOOOD? VIBRATE DAMN YOU! Somehow they got convinced I was Zack Taylor’s brother. I don’t know who that is but he mes be a good looking individual. Dave: “I probably could have killed a cow by now.” After leaving that group, we bumped into some German exchange students.
(That is the abrupt end. From what I can gather from the previous paragraph of gibberish, Eric and Dave were waiting at a restaurant for a long time while they tried to remember the events of the preceding day. They also had one of those little vibrating sensors that tells you when your table is ready.)
I forgot to mention the other part of the phone call on Saturday. Eric calls me at around 1pm West coast time. He’s yelling into the phone, “Who was our quarterback before Carson?!?” I was napping at the time, so I had to gather my thoughts for a moment. I was thinking of Mike Van Raaphorst. But the name that came to me was “Van Pelt”. So I tell him, “I think it was Van Pelt!” I had to yell because it sounded like he was hanging out in a jet engine. He says back to me, “Dan Clark?!? No, that doesn’t sound right.” Then I say, “NO…VAN PELT!!” “Dan Park!?!” “Van, as in a van down by the river. And Pelt, as in a sea otter pelt.” I couldn’t think of anything else for pelt. Obviously this did not help at all, so Eric went around telling people that the QB before Carson Palmer was Dan Park.
Looks like you fellas had quite the adventure. Glad to hear you won’t beg, Eric. Not sure if I buy it…. Fight On!!
I am more amazed that it had nothing to do with football, but still I read the entire thing. HA! Wait to go guys, wish I could have been there with you. It was pretty hilarious. And there was no better ending than:
After leaving that group, we bumped into some German exchange students.
That just made me smile
way to go
Check back later for scanned pictures of the actual handwritten notes, and some closure on the rest of the trip.
I’m glad that I was able to help kick off this exciting weekend. I will try to make it out to Cali more often. It was good to see you guys and thanks again. I would like to send a shout out to my homie Joe King. Go Niners! And as Dave would say “Go Horns!” ha ha ha
We all know that the qb before Carson was Van Craaphorst, except for a brief period where John Fox, the backup TE masqueraded as QB for Paul Hackett.