Man, I can still smell the charcoal and hear the ice rattling in coolers from that Saturday morning we parked. We rolled in at 6 AM, threw the tent up before the sun even thought about coming up. We were flipping sausage patties and eggs while the fog was still burning off the field. By the time the Tiger Walk started, they were eating our food and we were all laughing about how their. That is what people outside the SEC will never understand. It is NOT about the tailgate being fancy with charcuterie boards and wine tents. It is about a stranger from Baton Rouge becoming your best friend for four hours because you both respect the game. We burned the first batch of bacon, the coffee was barely drinkable, and I still think about that morning every single June when the...