Yes ladies and gentlemen, we here at Team MVP are what some might refer to as "equal-opportunity tailgaters." We would never pass up an opportunity to enjoy the atmosphere, fanfare, and especially the alcohol, at fun and interesting establishments in new and exciting locales; we are not drinking elitists, more like the "drinking elite".This past weekend brought my travels to sample the quaint, Mid-western, college values of Champaign, Illinois, home of the University of Illinois Fighting Illini!
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Seeing as Champaign is only a five-hour stone's-throw from Columbus (Google Maps says 6, which I'm pretty sure I could beat on a moped), we first made the executive decision to make the trip a one-night stay (a special thanks to the Drury Inn & Suites of Champaign for the luxurious accommodations), meaning we had to adjust our drinking schedule from 48 to 36 hours.
After we arrived in Champaign we first set a delicious foundation of buffalo chicken from Chili's Grill & Bar (*note: corn-on-the-cob is a terrible choice the night before a tailgate), and then off to our pre-determined drinking destination for the evening, KAM's: Home of the Drinking Illini.
The initial impression one has of KAM's is its "unique" aroma. I am not embellishing at all when I say that this place smelled like absolute shit. The smell was one of the most offensive odors that I have ever experienced in my life. It is an exotic combination of some familiar, and somewhat expected smells: stale beer, sweaty dancing undergraduates, and piss; but it also combined with some other, mysterious odors that resulted in a distinctly unique stench unlike any other of its kind. The smell was something like formaldehyde from a city-morgue, combined with the sourness of rancid milk, with a hint of something sweet, like rotting buffalo meat. When I unpacked my bag this morning, the odor absorbed into clothes I wore that evening nearly induced a reactionary projectile vomit.
The bar itself had a nice layout, booths for patrons lined the walls and provided ample seating for those who were cozying up for a long night of adult beverages, and the large-360 bar provided adequate space to procure drinking whenever you could manage to fight through the wall of fraternity knuckleheads that lined the bar and refused to leave even after being served.
As for the ladies of KAM's, well, all I can say is "Oskee-Wow-Wow!"
...proof that you CAN wear white after Labor Day...Other than the smell and the girls, KAM's used to be known as the "Home of the Gallon Beers." Unfortunately, something about a liability prevents KAM's from continuing this legacy. Instead, they serve "personal-sized" pitchers, which amount to about 1/2 a gallon, for $6. We had 3 each. Very Nice!
At the end of the night, the cabbies were lined up outside the bar waiting to take their drunken patrons home safely. This is certainly a welcome change from the Morgantown Yellow Cab Company, which may or may not get you home by 4am.
Gameday traffic heading to the game was a complete and utter clusterfuck. I guess this should come as no surprise considering an on-campus stadium in a small, college-town. Parking lots are not clearly marked, and traffic flow could not be worse; it literally took us almost an hour to get parked at the stadium that was 2.8 miles from our hotel. That is pretty miserable.
Another thing struck me a bizarre: when you drive into a busy venue, you can reasonably expect to see many "good" parking spots being reserved with chairs or blocks or boards or some kind. Not at the University of Illinois. As we drove through campus, all of the empty parking spaces had wheelchair-bound college girls sitting in them. Easily the most bizarre thing I've ever seen at a sporting event in my entire life. We saw at least 3 or 4 of these, which has to be some sort of sorority hazing ritual, right?
The gameday atmosphere, I'm not going to lie, was pretty lame. Illinois fans are the type that have become comfortable with their level of mediocrity, and opposing fans (especially the always obnoxious Buckeye Nation) have learned to exploit this. No mean-spirited chants, no stink-eye looks or snide remarks as we walked to the stadium. Just a bunch of lame-assed people who were prepared to have their asses handed to them. I suppose maybe our tailgates would be a little subdued if our games kicked-off at 11am; uh, maybe not...
As for the aforementioned Buckeye Nation, I think these pictures speak for themselves. Douche-baggery.
Doucher #1
Doucher #2
Doucher #3
Douchers #1 & #3 together
These idiots sit together, in the front row (in seats that aren't even theirs), apparently at every Buckeye game. Its like they met at some quasi-Star Trek convention and decided to step up their games for the college football season.
What is is MORE bizarre, is that on the ride to Champaign Friday afternoon, we passed Doucher #2 (who I was informed refers to himself as "Buckeye Man") on I-70 around the Huber Heights exit, which is just to the west of Dayton, OH. He was dressed in full gameday regalia. Jersey, OSU receiver gloves, buckeye nut necklace, Red and Silver wig, and full-facepaint. We slowed down to get a closer look. This was around 1:30pm on Friday afternoon, for an 11:00am Saturday morning game. I couldn't even try to make this shit up. Does he check into his hotel room like that???
This general atmosphere of pregame malaise is downright insulting considering Memorial Stadium is a very nice place to see a game. It is one of those old steel and concrete cathedrals of football that is both intimate and intimidating. These behemoths, though archaic, are part of the history, pageantry, and beauty of college football. The entire stadium is red-brick and has a wall of press and luxury boxes that I imagine could create a fairly loud and raucous atmosphere if the fans there actually gave a damn.
The game was miserably boring and uneventful, save for the play when I thought Cameron Hayward actually killed Illinois' freshman quarterback. The QB was getting tackled from behind and his upper-body was falling forward when Hayward came in from the front and hit him right below the chin and almost bent him completely in half. I'm not exaggerating, I honestly thought they were going to have to clean that kid's spinal fluid off of Zuppke Field with a Zamboni.
There was also the stunned silence of the entire Buckeye contingent when Terrelle Pryor got sniped by the 35 yard-line. The sound of those fans watching as they thought their national championship dreams were crashing and burning in America's heartland; now that was a sickening sound. Pryor still doesn't impress me much as a passer, but perhaps his future in the Tour-de-France will be more successful?
Regardless, I guess it was kind of cool to see Ron Zook's final matchup against the Buckeyes. Maybe he'll have some more free time to take-up a new hobby, like waterskiing or capoeira.
Thankfully, traffic out of the stadium wasn't nearly the disaster it was getting in. Our egress from campus to I-74 took less than 40 minutes, which judging by the drive in the morning must have been some sort of small miracle.
And that is pretty much Champaign in a nut-shell. It is a little college town in the same vein as Morgantown or Blacksburg, although we were informed by our cabbie Friday that the campus is comprised of nearly 45% Asian. I would definitely go back again, certainly to KAM's, but maybe next time for a basketball game. Maybe then the fans will actually care.
- Grey Bush
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