Go Big Blue, I think!

Let me tell you about my weekend, or, at least, my Saturday.

Before I do that, let me give you some background on my lifestyle. I’m a wild guy. Sometimes on a weeknight I drink a glass of wine and watch television, then, crazy guy that I am, around 8:30 I go into my bedroom, turn on a nightlight and read for about a half hour. Other times, about every three weeks or so, I go to Rene’s Bar in Thibodaux in the afternoon, where I see all the regulars and say hello. I have even been known to drink up to two beers and, when I’m in a really crazy mood, I play some of the best pool ever seen in that pastoral town. I have even beaten this guy I know whose name is Abby, a well-known pool shark who swears he is the greatest player since Minnesota Fats, whoever in the heck that is.

Now that you know that I’m what has been termed on Saturday Night Live as a “wild and crazy guy,” the Saturday I’m about to tell you about shouldn’t surprise you.

Here’s how it started: On Thursday, I receive a call from my oldest daughter’s godfather and my best pal, Al. He asks if I want to go to the Final Four basketball tournament that Saturday in the New Orleans Superdome. Now, since I’m a teacher, I know that I don’t make much money and I also know that a trip to the Final four will probably cost me a gazillion dollars. So I quickly say, “Gee Thanks Al, but I have to stay home and drink two glasses of wine and then go to my bedroom, turn on the lamp and read until I fall asleep.”

Then Al says, “Well gee, it’s in a skybox in the Dome, which is worth about a kazillion dollars, and it is free, thanks to a company I work with.” Then I say, “Darn right I’ll go.” But I had to qualify this further to guarantee a good time. So I said, “I definitely will go as long as your wife, Needlenose, is not coming.” And he says, “Lloyd, you know I don’t let her out the house without the proper precautions.” And I know immediately that he is talking about her muzzle, so all is right with the world and we bros are off for a great time.

Now it is Saturday, and my wife and I drive down to New Orleans to Al and Needlenose’s house (My wife decided to babysit Needlenose whilst the boys are out doing good things that boys do.). Al and I drive downtown and find a raucous pub a few blocks from the Superdome. We get a beer, and since the place is packed with Kentucky and Louisville fans (At this point, I realized that Kentucky and Louisville were two of the teams playing), and I see the tip of a table without a drink, even though the table was occupied. As soon as I put my drink down, the guy at the table, an affable fellow, says hello and hands me a shot. It was blue. Then he says, “Who are you for?” And I say, somewhat wisely, I thought, “for the blue team.” And he says, “Go Kentucky. Go Big Blue.” And Al, who is the biggest Kentucky fan who has never seen the Kentucky campus, let alone ever taken a class there (much like 95 percent of LSU fans), says, “I’m the biggest Kentucky fan that’s never seen the campus, let alone ever taken a class there.”

At this point, everyone high fives, everyone drinks the blue shot (I have no idea what it is), and then drinks more beer. These guys, it seems, are from Kentucky, have probably seen the campus, and one or two may even have taken classes there. I mean, these were not fans. These were fanatics. They were dressed in blue (my wife says that ‘s a very good color on me, by the way) from head to toe, and, as the discussion progresses, I could tell they had probably been at that table quite some time. They cheer again, then buy another round of shots, this one yellow. Then comes another round of shots, blue again, followed by something in a half-filled beer glass that I think is tequila. Then everybody begins slapping everybody on the back again, and hollers, “Go Big Blue.”

About five to 18 shots later, we all begin walking to the Dome. They stumble to the poor man’s seats (about a kazillion dollars), while we stumble to the skybox (about a gazillion dollars). I have never been in a skybox before and what I found was a wonder. Free food. Hot dogs. Hamburgers. Red beans and rice, or, if you preferred, just red beans with no rice. Dips. Stuff to dip with. And then the piece de resistance. Free booze. Wine. Beer. All types of alcohol. I decided to cut back, given my intake at the pub, so I wisely ordered bourbon straight.

To make a long story short, I think Kentucky won. At least there seemed to be a lot of happy people wearing blue. About Louisville, I’m not so sure. Their fans wore red but the team’s outfits were orange.

Of course, I am colorblind.