BCS = Bringing Catholics to South Beach

Saturday, January 6

1:00 ish

This town seems ready for us:

I like that Manti looks like he's about to sack McCarron.

Do you think NIU's welcome for the Orange Bowl was this enthusiastic?

2:00 ish

Florida is not considered an intellectual heavyweight state. This is the land of the hanging chad, among other things. Floridians can be quite clever when they apply themselves, though.

Heather and I decided to pay a visit to South Beach, the epicenter of the pre-game festivities. Traffic and parking, while never simple, should probably carry a surgeon general's warning when the area is overrun with ND and Bama fans. After a couple of false starts, and after giving some consideration to a sit-down meal at a swanky restaurant just so we could use their valet, we spotted a small parking garage. We'd driven in before we saw the rates: $40 for up to two hours, $50 for 2-6 hours. Prepaid. Too hard to back out, and truth be told, I think we would have paid twice that to GET OUT OF THE DAMN CAR. And of course we ponied up the extra $10, because we didn't feel like watching the clock. We reminded ourselves that we'd paid $25 each, which we've paid for parking at sporting events, amusement parks, or even city garages. That sounded a lot better. Needless to say, we were determined to stay on South Beach for at least two hours and one minute.

Floridians aren't dumb. They just have different priorities.

Less than two hours, one minute later

It's beginning to feel a lot like the Orange Bowl:

 

We posed for some pix in the fan experience also. If the ratio of blue and gold to red on South Beach is any indication, I expect ND fans to be in the majority in the stadium.

 

We also spent some time in a beer tent talking to a random alum from the 60s who showed us pix of his grandson and invited us to his massive tailgater the next time we go out for a game (which, given my track record of returning to campus, could be in fifteen years or so). Every so often, he turned around and called 'borracho!' to a woman behind us who was buying him drinks because she thought he looked like Jack Nicholson. I think borracho pretty much summed it up for him.

 

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