It could be worse. You should checkout the game reports from Clemson fans last week. I don’t know if this is true or not. Seems like it could be. Aggy is weird:
I had my own horrible experience the last time the Tigers played down in College Station last week. Me and the wife and my neighbor and his wife are great long-time Tiger fans and we decided to make the trip down to College Station for the game.We found CS nice enough, and looked forward to a great day of tailgating and SEC football. We parked the RV together witha few other Clemson boosters who had driven down for the game, but mostly surrounded by aggy fans. We got there around 9 a.m. and broke out the beer and brats, and stoked up the barbecue. I'd brought my mutt Dusty, he was a 9-year-old Golden Retriever, a bitgimpy from arthritis but friendly as all heck whose favorite thing in the whole world was to go to football tailgaters. I'd dragged thatdog all over the country - to Michigan and Nebraska in '14; to Wisconsin in '15 and never had any bad experience with Dusty - hewas the type of dog that would melt even the hardest Husker, who'd he greet with his favorite whiff frisbee in mouth.Anyways, we were having a pretty good time at the tailgater, talking it up with other Tiger fans and even breaking out some coldand icy ones for a few aggy fans who stopped by to chat and talk about the big game.It was mostly friendly stuff, except for one group of aggy fans in an old yellow school bus with back-to-back Aggy andConfederate flags who were directly to the right of my RV. From the time they got there, I sensed there was trouble. There was sixor seven of them, two of them apparently female. They were pretty loud and obnoxious from the beginning, blaring out whatsounded like Justin Bieber or worse. The seemed to have showed up drunk, and were drinking hard liquor, straight from thebottle. Soon after they got there, Dusty wandered on over and the biggest and meanest looking of the bunch (who they calledTiny), with a big Texas A&M logo tatooed his forehead, starts chasing him off yelling "GET ON OUT HERE YA Gawdang CarolinaDOG!!!! Except he didn't say "dang". He apparently didn't like the fact that Dusty was wearing his favorite Clemson doggie sweater.Anyways, I just gathered up Dusty and we stayed to ourselves with other Tiger fans trying to keep as far from trouble as we could.Pretty soon it was time to go to the game, and I did what I always do with Dusty, I tied his teather to the RV, leaving him a bowl ofwater and some food. I've regretted that decision a thousand times since then, even though at the time I'd thought nothing of it.The trouble makers in the school bus by then were ignoring us, having been joined by other friends, and obviously intoxicated inthe extreme.Of course we enjoyed the game, what with a Clemson win and all, and found Kyle Field to be an impressive stadium, even though the aggy fans were as placid as Tiger fans usually are. As we walked from the stadium after the game and approached the RV I could seeright away that something was wrong. The Tiger awning attached to the RV and covering the picnic table had been knockedover. I ran up to the RV calling Dusty’s name and to my horror saw that Dusty wasn’t there. The only thing there was his leashand empty collar.I looked frantically around for old Dusty, calling his name and asking anyone who would listen if they’d seen an old GoldenRetriever with a Clemson sweater. No one had. I was nearly in tears when I heard laughter and barking behind me. I turned around toagain face the Aggies on the bus, who by then numbered 10-12 or so. They were laughing, hollering and barking. I gathered mycourage and approached the group. Where’s my dog?? I demanded. All I got back was laughter and barking, and the big ugly onejust took a big bite out the huge Turkey leg he had just grabbed off the barbeque, dripping sauce all over his dirty Dat Nguyen jersey. “We ain’t seen no damn dog,” someone said, provoking more laughter and barking from the group. I was angry as hell,looking at each of them eye to eye, trying to see in their faces what they might have done with my Dusty.“Hey mister,” one of them finally said, “you hungry?” “Want something to eat?” I turned to look at the aggy fan minding the grill.“We were doggone hungry, so we cooked something up!” The whole group burst into howling laughter at that point, more than onespitting up food or liquor, bowled over and slapping each other on their backs. It was only then I realized where my Dusty hadgone. That wasn’t no turkey leg that Tiny was eating.“You ate Dusty,” I said to the aggy fans.Uttering that awful truth only sent the aggies into further laughter, and I did the only thing I could do. I turned around and walkedback to the RV. I told the wife that Dusty was gone and there wasn’t no point in looking for him. She could see I was upset andstarted to protest but then looked in my eyes and saw that it was true and that was that.Ever since that trip to CS, I havn’t much liked aggy fans. Each Saturday when I hear the Football scores over the PA, or onthe radio, I take special pleasure when A&M is at the losing end. Yesterday, I finally got me a new dog, a retriever, just a pup,who we named Dusty II. He’s a great dog and loves tailgating, though he can never replace old Dusty.On Monday, at a mall in Tuscaloosa, me and the wife ran into a group of Alabama football players. Saban was there, and I think thatHurts kid was too (he’s from Texas). I told them about Dusty and they practically cried. Most of them had dogs as kids,and didn’t have words bad enough for the kind of fans that would eat dog. I told them that I had moved on, not one to hold grudgesor to be hateful, even for such an awful thing. But I did ask them one thing. When you go into CS this year, could you do oldDusty a favor? Beat those aggies. Saban told me, “we’ll win for Dusty.”I hope they do too. Damn dog eaters.