The boys were duly impressed with the horse mounted Cavalier mascot and the pre-game fireworks while unimpressed, as four- to nine-year-olds would be, with the pre-game tailgate of southern football fried chicken, potato salad, apple juice, Cheetos, champagne and beer. Some day they will understand how that covers all the truly essential food groups.
Thankfully our host, Dr. A. Wahoo Griffin, provided us with a reserve parking space about a Pitching Wedge from the stadium door. Once it side it quickly became about one thing and one thing only – stadium food.
While the mom’s quickly and adeptly herded the majority of the brood off to the 50-yard line seats (at the end of the row – kudos again to Dr. Wahoo), Toly made the ultimate pre-game declaration -- #2. While we didn’t go in the stall to confirm the need, we ultimately have come to believe it was a ploy to increase TH’s ability for stadium food recon. Sure enough, he found the Cotton Candy.
Now what makes more sense than four less-than-ten-year-olds at a college football game with two, count ‘em TWO, bags of Cotton Candy? Nothing. It was perfect. A big dose of sugar and game on…
To their credit, the kids made it all the way to the end of the third quarter, which was the best part of the game anyway.
Sorry, Wahoos, Toly’s sister, an aficionado of all things carnivore, declared the Carl Smith Center David A. Harrison III Field at Scott Stadium hot dog to be “good,” but not as good as the tube steak at Yankee Stadium.
Needless to say, at nine, neither of her parents had experienced either.