A buddy of mine and I had talked about how we’d wanted to check out SEC football for a while, and when we did some research it became very obvious that the best tailgating in all of the South is at Ole Miss. So, the mission quickly changed – from ‘seeing SEC football’ to ‘seeing SEC tailgating’. And so we booked the tickets, bought the game tix, made some t-shirts that said something like ‘we flew from California just to tailgate with you’ and stretched our kidneys. It was on.

We flew into Memphis and headed down the morning of the game. We got down there early with 3 cases of beer and a fifth for 4 guys. It would prove to be almost enough.

Oxford is, literally, small town South. And it’s also awesome. It’s just a few streets of a downtown surrounded by some older, quaint homes. I freaking loved it immediately. We hit their version of the bookstore, a small shop on a corner in downtown, and picked up some Ole Miss gear. (It’s not traitorous if the team you buy never, ever plays ND, and never, ever threatens the Top 10), and walked around the main square, which took about 5 minutes.

One thing that was surprising was how quiet it was at 9am. Nothing was really open, and there were very few people around. That said, we were in town. The Grove awaited.

We hit the only open bar in town, where we quickly scored a free double-shot of tequila for flying out just to tailgate there for no reason. That was brutal at 9am, but pretty much par for the course for the weekend. And heck, I’ll take it. Who could refuse?

After a few get-ready beers, we grabbed breakfast and headed toward The Grove. While we were only a short drive away, the roads were now crammed. We crawled. 1 mph. Maybe 2. But up ahead we saw a ton of trees. ..The Grove, and all its majestic glory. Promises of a day in the sun, drinking cold, cold beer. Tailgate Heaven.

We unloaded, carrying the coolers. The odd thing was that the beer we were carrying was illegal. Not because it was alcohol, but because beer is not allowed in The Grove. Whiskey? No problem. Any other kind of liquor? All good. But no beer. This was maddening to a beer drinker like me, but we read that if we kept it in cups, didn’t fill them up in clear view of any cops, and kept the cooler locked we’d be okay. The only issue was that our cooler was freaking Styrofoam from a local Wal*Mart. So I cut some holes and made a locking mechanism out of twine. Not like it was going to stop anyone that wanted in, but apparently that would be good enough for the po-po.

Another oddity? All the beer in town was sold warm. No cold beer. I heard that this was because a previous Mayor (or some other local governmental guy) had owned all the ice in town and wanted to increase demand back in the day, and the laws just stuck. Huh. Politics at its best.

Looking out at The Grove, the entire space was filled. Literally every square foot under these hundreds of trees was covered with tented tailgates. We needed a home, and we had no idea where we’d set up camp. So, we walked. It took a whole 2 minutes before we found a home with a solid group of undergrads from Ole Miss. (that's them in the video up above) They immediately welcomed us with classic Southern Hospitality, mixed in with a little bit of amazement about our mission: to fly across country to drink with them. Their set up was minimalist. Tent. Table. A huge bottle of whiskey and some cups. A few chairs. A Confederate Flag. But hey, we had a home base and some great local kids to show us around. Score.

The Grove is absurdly awesome. It stretches as far as you can see, and it’s just tent after tent after tent sitting in the shelter of an amazing grove of trees. Apparently, there’s a mad rush the night before where people sprint in to set up their spots. I heard about companies that make $25K a weekend just to reserve and set up these tents. Madness. And the tents aren’t typical tailgate tents. They become customized, catered, outdoor living rooms. White table cloths. Whiskey. Full buffets. Whiskey. Multiple flat-screen TVs with couches and surround sound. Whiskey. Chandeliers! And…Whiskey. It was ridiculous.

It became very obvious very quickly that people at Ole Miss absolutely love the event. I’m not sure that the football is really the focus. Actually, I am sure it’s not. What’s most important is getting together, having a great time, and bonding with fellow fans/family/random dudes from California. And oh did we bond.

One of the great traditions in The Grove is a Whiskey Walk. And that’s where you…wait for it…go for a walk around with Whiskey in hand. We did a beer walk instead, but whatever - close enough. The hospitality was amazing – we were offered food or drink every few minutes. Shots. Chicken wings. Sandwiches. You name it, random people welcomed us and offered it. We funneled a couple beers with some Auburn fans and a gorilla. We headed down the Walk of Champions, which is essentially the team’s route to the stadium. And we saw girl after girl after girl in sundresses. And man oh man, the girls! Un-freaking-believable! I have never seen such a collection of southern beauties (I realize that I sound like a sceevy old dude, but if that shoe fits...), and the sundresses were out in full force. I love sundresses. If I ever have a son, he will be spending at least one semester at Ole Miss simply for this reason. World, this is a promise.

Another highlight was the Hotty Toddy Potty. These portable bathrooms put ND’s sad, sad rows of port-a-johns to shame. These were fully functioning, portable bathrooms: 6 urinals, 3 stalls, 2 sinks. All beautifully maintained and branded with the Ole Miss saying of “Hotty Toddy”. Hotty Toddy doesn’t really mean anything – it’s just a friendly greeting. And well, these pissers welcomed me with open arms, and I am writing someone important to urge them to get these to ND. They were sweet, and we can call them whatever works: Onward to Victory Potty. Shake Down the Crapper. Something like that. We need them!

We had about 6 hours at The Grove, and it simply wasn’t enough. The game started, and we reluctantly headed toward the stadium. WHEN HAVE I EVER BEEN LESS EXCITED TO GET IN A GAME? A GAME I WAS ACTUALLY INTERESTED IN SEEING? Never. We took our time, chatted up some sweet southern women who offered us food and fun conversation. We missed the flyover, kickoff, and part of the first quarter. We didn’t really care.

The game was okay. It’s a decent stadium, and Ole Miss hung in there for a bit. It felt more like an NFL game than an ND game does: big jumbotron, cheesy contests, that kind of thing. The fans cheered, and I know they all wanted Ole Miss to play well, but it was clear that the general idea is this: football is great and all, but the party is the focus. We left with 5 minutes remaining. Why? I’m not really sure. I can’t really put it better than what I heard down there from several fans, including our hosts:

“Win or lose, we still booze”.

“Ole Miss may lose the game, but we’ve never lost a party”

Too true, too true.

Amazingly, everyone leaves all their stuff out in The Grove during the game. All that food and booze, all those electronics, just left out there. Southern etiquette must dictate that stealing someone’s tailgate stuff is not allowed. Or maybe there's a police force I didn't see. Sadly, though, my homemade cooler must not have been covered in the etiquette, as it was stolen during the game, with all 6 remaining beers in it. I was bummed, but we were quickly invited to another tailgate with loads of chicken fingers and plenty of, you guessed it, Whiskey. We were saved.

Parties continued in The Grove late into the evening – several tents turned into outdoor clubs, with full, all-out DJ sound and lighting systems, and packed dance floors. After a drink at one of these, we headed to a piano bar back in downtown Oxford, and continued the party. Auburn fans mingled with Ole Miss fans, dancing and singing classic tunes from the 80's and 90's, along with southern classics. No animosity in the joint, just a group of folks from the South enjoying a night of dancing, singing and drink. I guess when you don’t care TOO much about winning or losing, you just become friends with everybody like the Ole Miss fans. That was kind of sweet. The South Will Rise Again was yelled by everyone as Dixie was wrapped up. We barely made it past midnight.

Ole Miss doesn’t even come close to approaching Notre Dame in terms of mystique or tradition or the actual football. But in terms of tailgating, Ole Miss holds the crown. I’ve been to ND, Penn State, Pitt, Stanford, USC, Michigan (sucks), Michigan State, Purdue, Northwestern, Arizona State, and a number of other schools, and none of them hold a candle to The Grove in terms of pure tailgating. The amount of love and passion and support that ND fans pour into ND football is equivalent to how much Ole Miss fans pour into tailgating, and it shows.

Ole Miss now has a place in my heart. Not for the team really, as that would make rooting for ND seem easy given the Rebs' consistent struggles, but for the people and the experience. The folks down there were as nice as people can possibly be, and they sure as hell knew how to throw a party. I’ll be back to The Grove, no doubt. After all, it’s Tailgate Heaven.

But, Mike, seriously, you can't call out Tim Brown for his 'poor' stock picks one freaking week after he picked them!  That's just not how the analysis of financial instruments works.  Ever read "Random Walk"?  No?  Shocking. 

I know you like to cover any and everything ND, and Tim Brown's foray into picking stocks is kind of a fun story.  But please, please please leave the commentary on the quality of those stock picks to people who actually know a tiny little bit about stock valuation, PE ratios, DCF, etc.  Because 1) It's unfair to Tim and 2) It makes you look a bit foolish.

So just a public service announcement so folks don't necessarily write Mr. Brown off this early.  Maybe he's great, maybe he's terrible.  But one week means nothing.

PS - Your assertion that it's harder to make money on stocks in a poor economy shows just how much you have to learn.  You may want to hit up Mr. Brown and get some lessons on Shorts, Straddles and general Value strategy.

PPS - Yes, I'm a finance nerd. 

That particular year, I ate a lot of Hot Pockets, and I'm pretty sure whatever rare form of cancer eventually kills me can be traced back to my Hot Pockets diet of the late '90s. Hot Pockets are, after all, the asbestos of the culinary world.

My favorite Hot Pocket was the "Philly Cheese Hot Pocket;" a cleverly named amalgam of processed cheese stuff, "meat parts," and mushrooms wrapped in what I'm pretty sure is the result of a recycling process for previously recycled coffee cups. Hot Pockets were the only food I've willingly eaten to include mushrooms because the quality of the meat parts was so bad that I was never sure if I was eating mushroom or meat part. The plasma-like form that the innards of a Hot Pocket took on after 30 seconds in the industrialized microwaves of the South Dining Hall made any such distinctions impossible anyway.

I bring all this up because it's the off-season, I just ran across this video on Serious Eats, and it made me oddly nostalgic for Notre Dame.