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Started By
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re: For the Old Timers. What was it like living in Tiger Stadium?
Posted on 11/15/22 at 9:01 pm to Run DMC
Posted on 11/15/22 at 9:01 pm to Run DMC
I lived in South Stadium my freshman year. First off, it was hot as balls! All we had was a ceiling fan to start off with. Over time you'd collect more and more fans. You'd get used to the heat after a week or so, though. You learned how to relax to sleep and just let it flow through you.
The bathrooms/showers varied. On the first floor, there were stalls with doors for the toilets. On the second floor, there were stalls, but no doors. On the third floor, there were toilets - no stalls. You got to know everyone more than you wanted to by the end of the semester. (Nothing like taking the morning dump and asking the guy sitting next to you for the sports section of the Morning Advocate.)
By the time November rolled around, things had cooled off and the rooms started to get a bit chilly since you had to rely on Physical Plant to get things up and running to start the radiators. Once they started up, though, you regretted it within about an hour. The rooms turned into saunas because, unless you were one of the very few lucky ones, there was no way to adjust the radiator. Fortunately for me, the valve on mine would actually turn and could be adjusted. Since the heat was pouring in from the rooms on either side of me, I generally left mine in the off position.
The beds were made of 3/4" plywood bolted to the wall with a plastic mattress tossed on top of them. If you had any sense and a little bit if cash, you'd go to Sears or someplace to purchase a better bed with a real mattress.
I don't know what it was like to be in the dorms during a game since I was in the band and spent most of Saturday warming up and performing. I can tell you that Friday afternoons after classes, the tailgating started in earnest.
We generally set a keg outside Ernie's window and dressed it up with a poncho and a Mexican sombrero to disguise it. (Supposedly, no alcohol was allowed in the dorms. But, you know LSU students. It wasn't really enforced, but we made a half-hearted effort to conceal it so LSU Police wouldn't feel the need to stop by.)
By Saturday morning, the party was going strong. Beer or liquor for breakfast around eight or nine o'clock wasn't unheard of. Ernie, Frank, or Joe would start up something food-wise by ten o'clock, and by noon we were all eating well.
For night games, I'd have to dress out in uniform and head to the band hall. Wayne trombone player from New Orleans) would meet me in the lobby and we'd head over. I had learned from Frank and Ernie asking me to sneak liquor into the game for them that the inside breast pockets of the band uniforms would hold a fifth of liquor. Band never got searched going into the stadium, so I carried a bottle of Seagram's 7 for Ernie and Frank, and a fifth of Johnny Red for me and a few of my fellow trumpet players. (I think I only marched one pre-game fully sober.)
-Cont'd-
The bathrooms/showers varied. On the first floor, there were stalls with doors for the toilets. On the second floor, there were stalls, but no doors. On the third floor, there were toilets - no stalls. You got to know everyone more than you wanted to by the end of the semester. (Nothing like taking the morning dump and asking the guy sitting next to you for the sports section of the Morning Advocate.)
By the time November rolled around, things had cooled off and the rooms started to get a bit chilly since you had to rely on Physical Plant to get things up and running to start the radiators. Once they started up, though, you regretted it within about an hour. The rooms turned into saunas because, unless you were one of the very few lucky ones, there was no way to adjust the radiator. Fortunately for me, the valve on mine would actually turn and could be adjusted. Since the heat was pouring in from the rooms on either side of me, I generally left mine in the off position.
The beds were made of 3/4" plywood bolted to the wall with a plastic mattress tossed on top of them. If you had any sense and a little bit if cash, you'd go to Sears or someplace to purchase a better bed with a real mattress.
I don't know what it was like to be in the dorms during a game since I was in the band and spent most of Saturday warming up and performing. I can tell you that Friday afternoons after classes, the tailgating started in earnest.
We generally set a keg outside Ernie's window and dressed it up with a poncho and a Mexican sombrero to disguise it. (Supposedly, no alcohol was allowed in the dorms. But, you know LSU students. It wasn't really enforced, but we made a half-hearted effort to conceal it so LSU Police wouldn't feel the need to stop by.)
By Saturday morning, the party was going strong. Beer or liquor for breakfast around eight or nine o'clock wasn't unheard of. Ernie, Frank, or Joe would start up something food-wise by ten o'clock, and by noon we were all eating well.
For night games, I'd have to dress out in uniform and head to the band hall. Wayne trombone player from New Orleans) would meet me in the lobby and we'd head over. I had learned from Frank and Ernie asking me to sneak liquor into the game for them that the inside breast pockets of the band uniforms would hold a fifth of liquor. Band never got searched going into the stadium, so I carried a bottle of Seagram's 7 for Ernie and Frank, and a fifth of Johnny Red for me and a few of my fellow trumpet players. (I think I only marched one pre-game fully sober.)
-Cont'd-
This post was edited on 11/15/22 at 9:47 pm
2
Posted on 11/15/22 at 9:21 pm to Swamp Angel
Pt 2-
In the 80's, we weren't always certain what time kickoff would be, or if the game would even be televised. We generally liked it if we saw an ESPN semi, or Jefferson-Pilot in the parking lot. That meant it was televised and going to be a night game. But if we saw that damned CBS truck in the parking lot by West Stadium on Wednesday, we knew it was gonna be a frickin' day game. (Bastards!)
On Friday mornings before a home game, LSU Police would drive by slowly and chirp their sirens at 6:00 AM and announce over the speaker that all students would have to relocate their cars from the parking lot 7:30AM to make room for the RV's who were already lined up and ready to set up their tailgates. I complained about the RV's until I started getting fed regularly on game days by one family I had met because they wanted a photo of their kids with a "real Tiber Band member." I still hear from the Landrys every year around Christmas, despite not having seen them tailgating at a game since 1988.
Great friends were made among the denizens of "The Cave," as we called it in South Stadium. North Stadium guys called it "The Rock." Ernie (his name was actually Pat, but he laughed like Ernie from Sesame Street, so...) - Ernie was from Norco. Joe was in Air Force Reserve and was a non-traditional student. He was from New Orleans. Frank, RA on the 2nd floor, was from New Orleans as well. (Frank was the one who would share the sports section from the paper with you during your morning constitution.) Druis was next door to me on the first floor. He was the first room on the left when you came into the lobby. He was from Houma. Wayne, the trombone player, was from Nine-Mile Point/Westwego. His was the first room on the right of the lobby. Dave F., was the senior RA and was from Columbiana, Ohio. David M., was a mechanical engineering major from Ville Platte. He taught me that grape jelly on scrambled eggs in the morning wasn't actually too bad. Yeah, he had a thick Cajun accent too. Phil was from Winnfield. He was studying journalism and wanted to be a sportscaster. I was the hillbilly from Kentucky with the gawd-awful accent that nobody could understand without me repeating things four or five times. Eventually, I got earnest about learning to speak properly without that east Kentucky twang, but it's still not completely defeated even today.
The last time I was in the stadium dorms, I was visiting Ernie. He had moved to the fifth floor of North Stadium. I'm glad he liked to cook because we missed dinner that evening when one of the "unofficial-guys-somewhat-associated" with the basketball team decided to take Mike IV hostage in an effort to get his visa extended. We had first row balcony seats for the whole ordeal from our vantage point in Ernie's room. I could go on and on about that, but I figure I've written enough already. I'll save that one for another day.
I hope that added something worthwhile to all the answers you've received so far about life in the stadium. I appreciate you asking it and allowing me to relive nearly forty-year-old memories of the best days of my life. Even more - I appreciate reading all the stories from those who lived there before me.
In the 80's, we weren't always certain what time kickoff would be, or if the game would even be televised. We generally liked it if we saw an ESPN semi, or Jefferson-Pilot in the parking lot. That meant it was televised and going to be a night game. But if we saw that damned CBS truck in the parking lot by West Stadium on Wednesday, we knew it was gonna be a frickin' day game. (Bastards!)
On Friday mornings before a home game, LSU Police would drive by slowly and chirp their sirens at 6:00 AM and announce over the speaker that all students would have to relocate their cars from the parking lot 7:30AM to make room for the RV's who were already lined up and ready to set up their tailgates. I complained about the RV's until I started getting fed regularly on game days by one family I had met because they wanted a photo of their kids with a "real Tiber Band member." I still hear from the Landrys every year around Christmas, despite not having seen them tailgating at a game since 1988.
Great friends were made among the denizens of "The Cave," as we called it in South Stadium. North Stadium guys called it "The Rock." Ernie (his name was actually Pat, but he laughed like Ernie from Sesame Street, so...) - Ernie was from Norco. Joe was in Air Force Reserve and was a non-traditional student. He was from New Orleans. Frank, RA on the 2nd floor, was from New Orleans as well. (Frank was the one who would share the sports section from the paper with you during your morning constitution.) Druis was next door to me on the first floor. He was the first room on the left when you came into the lobby. He was from Houma. Wayne, the trombone player, was from Nine-Mile Point/Westwego. His was the first room on the right of the lobby. Dave F., was the senior RA and was from Columbiana, Ohio. David M., was a mechanical engineering major from Ville Platte. He taught me that grape jelly on scrambled eggs in the morning wasn't actually too bad. Yeah, he had a thick Cajun accent too. Phil was from Winnfield. He was studying journalism and wanted to be a sportscaster. I was the hillbilly from Kentucky with the gawd-awful accent that nobody could understand without me repeating things four or five times. Eventually, I got earnest about learning to speak properly without that east Kentucky twang, but it's still not completely defeated even today.
The last time I was in the stadium dorms, I was visiting Ernie. He had moved to the fifth floor of North Stadium. I'm glad he liked to cook because we missed dinner that evening when one of the "unofficial-guys-somewhat-associated" with the basketball team decided to take Mike IV hostage in an effort to get his visa extended. We had first row balcony seats for the whole ordeal from our vantage point in Ernie's room. I could go on and on about that, but I figure I've written enough already. I'll save that one for another day.
I hope that added something worthwhile to all the answers you've received so far about life in the stadium. I appreciate you asking it and allowing me to relive nearly forty-year-old memories of the best days of my life. Even more - I appreciate reading all the stories from those who lived there before me.
This post was edited on 11/16/22 at 6:23 am
Posted on 11/15/22 at 9:22 pm to Swamp Angel
Just so you youngsters know, us "old timers" walked to and from class barefoot in the snow uphill both ways.
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