It’s almost that time of year again: Soon, fans all over Louisiana will be making an inventory of their tailgating equipment, much of which has melted in the attic. Many are already checking their supply of body paint, making adjustments to satellite dishes and gas grills, running their stereo equipment through last-minute sound checks, and stocking up on beer and sausage. Soon, we’ll see that familiar sight of recreational vehicles parading down Stanford Avenue. It’s the ultimate game day experience. High gas prices be damned! The only difference this year: some LSU fans, decked out in their finest purple and gold but unable to pay for gas, will be behind their RVs, pushing.

Before you can say “groin cup,” the most anticipated time of the year will have arrived. Everyone in the LSU community will be doing their part to get ready, even the flag girls, who will be enduring another grueling preseason of the dreaded “two-a-days,” practicing their precision flag routines over and over: drilling, drilling, drilling; their hands becoming swollen whelps, then turning into ugly appendages of raw flesh; their practice field transformed into a gruesome, bloody mess.

But the surest sign that the season we’ve been waiting for all summer long is finally upon us will be that first touch of autumn – when the trees turn to beautiful shades of crimson and gold, and the morning air turns cool, crisp, and exhilarating – which, of course, means that it’s football season again in Minnesota.

Meanwhile, down in Louisiana, September is just around the corner, but it’s still hot as hell. Earlier this month, we observed our annual Nutria Day, which, according to Louisiana tradition (much like Groundhog Day in Pennsylvania), determines whether we’ll have an early or late autumn in 2008. This year, the nutria came out of his hole, took a look around, and before he could get back into his hole, got his head blown off by Wildlife and Fisheries agents. This means we can expect another 60 days of hot, sticky weather. But hot or not, soon we’ll be seeing those familiar signs that tell us it’s football season again in Louisiana. By that, I mean soon Jimmy Ott will be proclaiming that “the jury is still out” on Les Miles, and LSU students will be practicing their new cheers for 2008:

Two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar
All for the Tigers
Stand up and holler
All for the Gators
F–k you!

and …

Hot boudin
Cold couscous
C’mon Tigers
Poush-Poush-Poush
Saban, you suck!

Of course, it’s easy to get caught up in the pre-game festivities and forget the true meaning of the season, especially if you’re drunk on your ass, throwing up enormous quantities of beer and boudin. Lest we forget, the real reason for the season is … football. And football is life, or at least a reasonable facsimile of it.

I’m sure there are many of you out there waiting to hear my predictions for the upcoming season, but heck, I’m just an ordinary fan. I’d rather leave those prognostications to the experts, because to be honest, there are many things I don’t completely understand about football, starting with the name. Out of all the possible parts of the human anatomy to choose from, how did foot get into the name? You hardly ever use your foot! It would make about as much sense to call it eyeball! And then there’s “prevent defense” – the dumbest idea anyone has dreamed up since the first pig was de-skinned and sewn into a football, yet coaches employ it time and time again, usually with disastrous results.

As you can see, I have some philosophical issues with the game. I guess that’s why I am stuck in the stands drinking my $4 bottle of Tiger Water and somebody else is on the sideline, making $4 million and getting all his water and sports drinks free.