Game Day usually starts out rough. If we get lucky with a night game, then we usually don’t roll out of bed until noon. We take our time getting ready and find ourselves around Olympia, Granby, or some house on the way to the stadium as all of our friends gather.

After taking our time posing for pictures and drinking plenty of… water, we take on the mile or so walk to Williams-Brice with growing blisters in our cowboy boots and sweat taking off our make-up that took us an hour to apply. Tons of people surround the stadium area, yelling, cheering, and starting Gamecocks chants. It's an interesting feat to constantly bump into people and dodge traffic while trying the obey police officers commanding the streets.

With Bojangles swarmed by fans, fraternity pledge drivers trucking their brothers to the lots, Game Day can sometimes be overwhelming because of how far the stadium is from campus. That's why you need your most put together friend to take charge and lead the pack to the lots. Upon arrival, the fun begins.             

The motherland. The holy land. Our heaven. I’ve had dreams about these lots all summer.             

Making our way to the fraternity tent of our choice, we make a beeline for the bar. We take our choice of poison and begin.             

Between the music blasting, the occasional rapper performing, and the multiple girls already taking tumbles to the gravel, we find our friends. Cups down, cameras up, and the photo-shoots kick off. 

After forcing our guy friends to smile and put their beers down for picture time, we scope out those who are actually going to make it into the game. As some of my girl friends begin the trek to the student gates, I scout out some of my guy friends who I know will stay in the stadium until the last seconds tick away in the fourth quarter. 

As the last line of our Alma Mater is sung, the gang retreats back to the tents and debates whether or not to go to Five Points. My feet hurt, Taylor isn’t doing so well, and Sam is still at some random family’s tailgate (true story). Perhaps we should just go home.             

We wake up groggy the next morning to our group chats buzzing with questions. Why does Katie only have one cowboy boot on? Did Molly really pass out in Bojangles? Did I meet Gorilla Zoe?

We might not be able to answer all of these questions, but we are already awaiting the next home game and preparing for the debauchery that comes with it to repeat.