Thank You, Louisiana State University

This was a very special event for us. We got our butts whooped on the field, but it wasn't about the game. Not at all. It was about BEING there. It was about the people we met, the things we saw, and the exhilaration of just being with our Huskies in a stadium away from home, and being welcomed with camaraderie, and consoled with encouragement.

I cannot find the words to tell this story. I'll start with some introductory remarks, and then let the pictures do the rest of the talking.

The event always starts out with a lot of rah! rah! because we feel there is always a miraculous chance of upsetting the odds. The Purple and Gold of Seattle flock together to cheer on our beloved Husky football team in a foreign land. Some of us go by mass transportation, where I'm sure the partying never stopped.

And others (we) go by budget, no pun intended.

And of course, we had our own kind of partying on our journey to the Tiger Stadium.

Everything about this place is different. The air, the ground, the people. But it's all good.

Dubs, we're definitely not in Seattle anymore...

.

Fellow Huskies on the Road

Dear Sir Mr. Husky Fan, Sir!

No, I'm not one for formality, I just forgot your first name. Ahem, moving on...

I'll have you know that I sifted through over 900 photos on my computer to find your photo. At long last, I ran into this one...

Oh, wait... That's us being crazy. We signed up for a 5K in Harahan. Nevermind that we didn't realize that it was a good 20 minute drive outside of New Orleans until we paid a pretty fortune to the cab driver. But that it was 98ºF on our way home at 9:30PM is something to gawk about! Luckily, we caught a ride back to our hotel from a school teacher at McDonogh Elementary School, smack in the heart of the French Quarters. Did you know there's a school in the middle of that nocturnal mayhem?

Ok, here it is.

Oops. No, this was the group of guys before we ran into you guys. They tried to convince us that their shoes, custom made for Husky fans, were better than ours. As much as I denied their claim, I confess now that those shoes were far better than the ones I wore that night. For there was a quarter-size blistered piece of skin hanging off the bottom of my foot when we got back to our hotel.

All right, all right, here is your photo.

Hey! That's the other group of fans to whom I promised to email a copy of this photo. And there are our husbands, acting like they can still hang with the younger fishes- 

I mean drunks- 

I mean Dawg fans. Ah, but how can you pass up an ice cold drink in that atmosphere that can be cut with a butter knife?!

Ah hah! While they were inside drinking up a hurricane, this was us outside, discussing Softy Mahler's radio show and where all the Dawg parties were.

Four hawt dawgs- I mean guys, with one crazy lady who dared to walk over two miles in one night in 5-inch wedge sandals.

By the way, was it you, or the Custom Shoes guys who suggested we rented a car to visit the sugar can plantations? At any rate, we took the tour bus, which was a good thing because we were all falling asleep on the drive. 

However, we got more than just a plantation house show. Look at what we ran into on the way to Vacherie. "I wanna take him home and fry him up!" said Bernardine, our driver. "And then make me a pair of alligator boots with his skin!"

Well, Sir, there you have it. Here's a remembrance of fun times with fellow Husky fans on Bourbon Street. And less-than-fun game against the Tigers. 

Sincerely,

Netty

.