The last time that I stepped foot in the Carrier Dome was three years ago for a February contest against the University of Connecticut. Despite the fact that the Huskies were in tough shape entering the game — Connecticut was 16-9 (5-6) and well on its way to nary a single post-season tournament invitation — the buzz around that showdown was palpable. 32,376 people shuffled through the snow and slush to assume temporary residence in the Loud House, eventually watching Syracuse University dispatch Jim Calhoun’s rudderless club 73-63.
The joint was electric; Connecticut never had a chance.
Fast forward to February 27, 2010. Villanova University, sporting shades of blue not astonishingly dissimilar to that of Connecticut, entered the Carrier Dome with a solitary mission: Right its own wayward ship and send 34,616 people home with a scowl on their face and a regrettable t-shirt purchase. To achieve this goal, however, the Wildcats would need to overthrow the Orange Empire on arguably its most impressive and pertinent evenings.
The joint was electric; Villanova never had a chance.
Friday Night: Excess at Light Speed
There only a handful of things I hate more than driving to Syracuse, New York: Mayonnaise, the metric system, and social functions with cash bars are just a sampling of this cohort of disdain. The ride is certifiably mind-numbing; the monotony of the trip finding pause only with the refrain of “People live in these places on purpose?!?” echoing in your head.
Thus, it is not surprising that upon arrival on Marshall Street my goal was clear: Drink until you can’t see. Four hours of looking at “rustic” tries even the strongest will, and the only antidote was mass consumption of liver-damaging beverages.
And I drank. And it was good.
As the evening progressed some of the Hoya Suxa Twitterati began filing through Faegan’s doors. A handful of those lucky enough to experience The Glaude in my natural inebriated state follow. The pictures chronicle my sobriety starting from “Yeah, I’ve been drinking a little” to “Peeing in the sink isn’t necessarily a bad idea” to “I WANT SOME FUCKING MUNCHOS!”:
@Alexander_O
@Knick620
Mrs. @djpearso
At this point in the evening — which probably hadn’t yet reached midnight — I was thoroughly trashed. It was time to call it a night; there was gold medal-level consumption on tap for Saturday.
Let’s Drink Until We’re Not Thirsty Anymore
Saturday started fairly innocently. At virtually the stroke of 11:00 A.M., the case of Labatt’s Blue Light was opened and the drinking adventure began. The initial plan was straightforward: Easy out of the gates; accelerate toward tip-off; and wind it down after the game with some night caps.
As the old Scottish poem teaches us, though:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew
The new plan, as it became, was even more straightforward: out of the gates hard; accelerate even harder toward tip-off; try not to piss yourself; pass-out 16 hours later and congratulate yourself for a job well drunk.
The first stop was Chuck’s, an institution that exists only because the Syracuse Health Department doesn’t have enough HazMat suits to possibly shut the establishment down. Chuck’s is the kind of place that if you showed up not wearing pants it wouldn’t be so much a problem, but an overall improvement to the atmosphere. Spending an hour or so in Chuck’s merits Congressional recognition for valor, and after about a half-dozen pitchers or so it was time to move on and hope that I didn’t catch anything that would make my skin fall off.
It wasn’t until we walked out of Chuck’s that I realized the situation happening on The Hill. Chuck’s was pretty full, but it wasn’t bone-crushing packed. It was only about 3:00 in the afternoon, and I simply assumed that folks would be descending upon Marshall Street in the next few hours.
I was wrong. Way, way wrong.
People were everywhere. I am not sure what Armageddon is going to look like, but I am willing to bet it will look something like The Hill at that very moment combined with a dinosaur orgy. It was pure insanity and there was still six hours until Syracuse took the floor.
A quick stop at The Varsity for a slice or two and it was off to the next destination:
What gave me away? My dashing good looks or my aura of infallibility?
Harry’s, like every other watering hole on Marshall Street, quickly filled to capacity. I would have loved to have stayed at Harry’s and enjoy the constant smell of wet feet, but I was thirsty and impatient and no smell of foot fungus could change that situation. But where to go? Where was there access to a bartender?
The Sheraton. Pure genius.
Look: I know that not everyone is as refined and gentlemanly as me; I may just be the apex of human existence. As a result, I’m always on the look out for anti-The Glaude, the nadir of the human experience. The Sheraton afforded me that opportunity not once, but twice:
Exhibit A: Jim Boeheim (The Hunter)
- Marathon Men Shirt: Check.
- Marathon Men Shirt Tucked Into Jeans: Check.
- Camouflage Syracuse Hat: Check.
Awesome status: “Double Wide Approved.”
Exhibit B: Juli Boeheim (The Huntress)
- Mullet: Check.
- Unkempt Mullet: Check.
- Significant Other of Jim Boeheim (The Hunter): Check.
Awesome Status: “Camaro Approved.”
Gametime (A.K.A. “The Raping”)
There are already enough words on the Internet that describe the scene at the Carrier Dome. Rather than reiterate such themes, I’ll merely provide some photographic evidence of the atmosphere:
I’m not going to judge you, son, but you have to stop taking your Mother’s laundry.
Woah.
The worst seats in the house; the best fans in the building.
The Aftermath
The crush of people exiting the Carrier Dome was reminiscent of the halcyon days of Orange football. People, again, were everywhere. There was an excitement in the air that ran through every person still on the campus. How did I deal with this electricity?
Snow angels in front of the Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs.
The snowballs being thrown at my groin were an added bonus.
Let’s not wait another three years to see each other again, Syracuse.
Welcome back to the Dome! I got photos from the long view section…very long view. Alcohol would not have been a good idea during the game. :)