BCS = Bloody Charlotte Stores

Heather and I traveled on the same flight to Charlotte before heading our separate ways. I thought the Charlotte airport might be a relief, since Fort Lauderdale was still plastered with ND-Alabama-BCS everywhere, but there was no escape, even a couple of states away.

On the people mover, we passed EA Sports first, with its SEC-centric window and Alabama championship t-shirts on display.

Please, God, let us roll past the Tide.

Next door, we noticed the mannequin in front of this boutique was decked out in Alabama red and houndstooth. 

Really?

When we rolled past the next storefront, I was ready to jump off and place an order.

Where's a bottle of Patron when you need it??

BCS = Big Collegiate Shenanigans

I started this post almost a month ago, and then life, work, and the Manti Te'o shenanigans sapped my blogging motivation. I found this post today, and decided that the game day recap deserved to be finished, as a celebration of Mike's awesome Christmas gift.

Game day was in fact perfect, until about the second play of the game. Things got painful after that, but even the score of the game itself couldn't wipe out the fun of the pregame activities.

We began the day with an early lunch at Primanti Brothers, which Heather and her ND friends Dan and Nate knew about and loved from visits to Pittsburgh, and I knew about through Maddie's love of Man vs. Food. Primanti Brothers sandwiches combine the meat and the sides (cole slaw and fries) between two hefty slices of bread. First order of business after their arrival at our table? Photography, followed by Facebook posts.

Food wins: I could only finish half. The other half was my post-game comfort food.

I followed the crowd and posted mine too, because I figured Maddie would appreciate it. As the others surrendered themselves to sandwich bliss, I briefly considered yanking a few chains by making an 'ick' face after my first bite. I changed my mind when I realized I would probably be dumped in the ocean. Primanti Brothers is no joke. It actually was an excellent sandwich.

At the end of lunch, two more of Heather's friends (and fellow ex-Observerites) arrived from Virginia. In itself, not unusual for a team with a national following. But these two left their houses at the end of the Redskins game the night before (about 9 p.m.) and drove straight through. As Heather put it in her blog post for New York magazine, they "still hadn't slept when they cracked their first Yuengling at our tailgate." No, they didn't have tickets. They just wanted to be there. Since they were the only ones with the fortitude to act like they were still in college, they were heroes.

Hail the conquering heroes: The all-night drivers are on the left and right.

The obligatory I-was-really-there photo.

We got to the Orange Bowl early, and discovered (again) that ND outnumbered Bama by a hefty margin in the parking lots. Taligating skills were on full display. What better way to begin the festivities than to run into Manti Te'o's dad in the parking lot. He was friendly, clearly thrilled to be there, and willing to pose for a picture. One more reason to want the Irish to win, I told Heather. Sigh.

(At this point, I like to imagine that to Brian Te'o, 'catfish' was still something you rolled in batter, deep fried, and ate with tartar sauce.)

Te'o-gating.

I am old enough to remember the ND campus swarming with students in Catholics vs Convicts t-shirts during the height of the Notre Dame-Miami hatred. Heather and I ran in to the 2013 version during our tailgating adventures.

Love it.

We also ran into a dude with a giant beer cross. Or a sword. We still aren't totally sure which. Here is Heather pretending to drink from it:

And me being knighted by it.

Good thing I did this before we ran into the chick with the bourbon shots.

Reunited!

Another highlight of the weekend was the chance to see my roommate, Rachel. Both of us were convinced that we would run into more people from our class. Then we realized we were scanning the crowd for 22-year-olds, and that ain't us anymore. That's a good way to sober up quickly.

And then it was time to go into the game. We all know what happened next. I tried to stay on a media blackout for as long as possible, but Deadspin and Manti Te'o made that difficult.

However, we won the Battle of the Bands. (By halftime, we were already grasping at straws.) But what's not to like about a tribute to Back to the Future?

The Delorean. The Irish Guard is producing the smoke.

ND fans outnumbered Bama in one more way. I'd swear there were more of us in the stadium at the end of the game. A family of four Bama fans in front of us left with about four minutes to go. We ran into another one on the escalator right after the game, and when we congratulated her and asked her why she wasn't staying for the trophy presentation, she replied, "Oh, we've been to three of these, and I have to get back to South Beach." Say what you will about Notre Dame fans; we don't leave.