I've always loved empty stadiums, none more than this one. It feels alive when it's packed and now it looks like it's resting, waiting for next week. This building has seen a lot of things. Billy Cannon's punt return, a crowd so loud it registered on the Richter Scale up the street at the geology department. It's as if all that history leaves Tiger Stadium tired and so it needs to recharge until it's time to wake and do it again.
I get very selfish at times. I write about things that are interesting to me. Which are often very different. All of these stories, the thing they have in common is that they were somehow interesting. I feel like they're all dispatches from a worldview.
I'm not sure what it was like to walk into the Coliseum, but I bet it was something like this. The best place in the world to watch a sporting event.
It was electric. When Death Valley is rocking, it seems as if it might actually take flight. On Saturday, I went back to Baton Rouge to see Alabama barely beat LSU, and was, once again, reminded that Tiger Stadium is the best place in the world to watch a sporting event. ... I'm not sure what it was like to walk into the Coliseum, but I bet it was something like this.
Keeping up with Urban Meyer is more of an Olympic event than handball.
I know this is a bit redundant, but it is really hard to explain just how loud Tiger Stadium is when you're standing on the field. The crowd is moving and swaying so much, and in so many directions, it makes the stands look blurry, like a pointillist painting.
