Musings from a self-titled Gator Diva - a 40-something, life long Gator fan.  See if you find a little of yourself in her prose.

Diva thankful for the Noles?  Nah.

It's the most wonderful time of the year. At least as far as I'm concerned.

The weather's a little cooler (yes, below 70 qualifies as "a little cooler." Here in the F-L-A we take what we can.)

The food's a little better. Let's be honest here - is there a better overall meal than the one we eat at the Thanksgiving weekend? I think not. And don't get me started about the leftovers. Nothing beats a turkey sandwich (dark meat) on white with a little mayo and a schmear of cranberry sauce.

The shopping's a little insane. Black Friday. Ridiculous. Give me Cyber Monday any day of the week. But here's to y'all who brave the throngs to get those deep deep deals.

The football's a little more intense. Sure it's the last full weekend of college ball of the year... but it's Rivalry Weekend. Making all bets off.

Clemson vs. South Carolina. This has some importance in the House of the Diva, as The Mister is a Clemson grad. Plus it's always fun for me to root against the Old Ball Coach, aka my Football Ex-husband. Yeah, he's a Gator Legend. But he's now working for a Gator Foe. So he's now Dead To Me.

Auburn vs. Alabama

Arkansas vs. LSU

And then there's the greatest rivalry of them all... Florida vs. FSU.

Fortunately, there's no conflict regarding at least the football part of the weekend in the House of the Diva. We're all securely in the Gator boat. Which is nice. And healthy. A unified front.

Not sure which emotion is stronger, though - our love for the Gators or our loathing of the Seminoles.

Man, I can't stand that team. At all. Ever. Never. Not even if they were the last team on earth.

Gator Tailgate Fleece

The Diva on Tailgate Trappings

Consider, if you will, the most festive component of the modern football game day ritual: the tailgate.

Usually a gathering involving a nosh and a drink before a game, the tailgate has taken on a life of its own.

There are whole blogs and websites dedicated to this thing. Contests for the best tailgater have been developed. Categories full of crap you can buy to enhance your tailgate experience are all over eBay.

RVs and canopies and tents and coolers and grills and on and on and on - there's a gadget, big or small, to meet all your tailgate needs. Trust me. Go enter "Gator tailgate" on eBay and see what you find - look no further than the sweet "Gator tailgate fleece" image next to this column.

I've been to some dinner parties at people's homes - nice, semi-formal and delicious parties that have been less complicated than some tailgate events.

We've come a long way baby.

Coming from a sports-loving family, I've been to my share of tailgate events. We had season tickets for the very first year of Tampa Bay Buccaneer football. Yeah - the 0-14 year (which I have a feeling may be eclipsed in awfulness by a 0-16 season this year. But I digress...) We'd go to church, quick change clothes, then make a run to pick up our tailgate fare. Fried chicken from Brown's (R.I.P) and Publix brand soda. Throw in a cookie and a wet nap and ta-da! Tailgating, ‘70s style.

Tailgating at Gator games is something that's near and dear to my heart. My folks had a total rock star parking space in the alumni lot when I was a student - wandering over after the game to see them became a ritual. I knew I could always score a cold beer (and a cocktail napkin) from my mom and some post-game analysis (and a little spending money) from my dad. That little beer exchange has a special meaning, for it was at a tailgate when I was a senior in high school that my very practical mother decided that I needed to learn to like beer. She and I shared a toast and a couple of cans of Miller Lite (yeah, I know) and I had my first true college prep experience.

Even after I had graduated, my college pals would still stop by the parking spot to say hey to my folks, either before or after the game, to catch up with life - and have a beer. Depending on whether or not I had tickets, I'd be there too. But even if I wasn't, it was no matter. It was a bit of a home away from home for my compadres, even after we'd moved on. Nothing fancy - just friendly and familiar and family.

Not sure I'm really "in" to the tailgating style of today. Don't get me wrong - I still enjoy it. But when I'm in game-watching mode, I'm just as happy to have something simple (and a beer), as I am to dine on more complicated fare with all the team trappings. Call me an old-fashioned girl. But rest assured, if you do invite me to stop by your tailgate, I'll bring something fabulous. Just have a nice cold beer ready.

Otis Boggs (left)

The Gator Diva's Pigskin Manfesto

"Let's tee it up and kick it off!"

A phrase that's music to my ears. We're deep into the time of year when Football Frenzy has overcome the sporting world. Couple that with having YOUR team (GO GATORS!) in the thick of the national championship hunt and it's a pretty darn intense time as well.

***I love sports. Passionately. I'm the chick who wants to watch SportsCenter before going to bed. The one who strikes up conversations with strangers in airports about SEC football. The one who reads SI.com and ESPN.com on a regular basis.

And while I love all sports (save for NASCAR - what is the deal with that, anyway. I just don't get it. At. All. It's probably just me though...) Football - specifically Gator football - is a part of me. I've been going to Florida Field since I could barely walk. The ‘rents have had season tickets as long as I've been alive (and yes, the tix are in the will.) Not only do I love the team, I love the sport of football itself. Always moving, never dull and constantly entertaining.

A personal baseball creed created by a Houston Astros fan (talk about futility!) inspired me to develop my own statement about football.

Call it The Gator Diva Pigskin Manifesto. It goes well with an ice cold Coke and a soft pretzel with light salt. Or a Primo Beef, double wrapped, with extra sour cream from Burrito Brothers.

"Football is only a game. Spiritual things are eternal. Nevertheless, Beat Texas." A church sign prior to the 1969 Texas/Arkansas game

***I am a fan of the game. Period. Then, now and forever. I've been following Gator football for as long as I can remember. Lying on the floor of the living room listening to Otis Boggs call the play-by-play of a game in my footie pajamas is an early memory that I treasure. My family is VERY serious about our Gators. When I got engaged and was picking a wedding date, the first place I looked was the Gator football schedule. We got married on an open date that season - there was no way I was going to compete with a ball game, home or away.

Told you we were serious.

"If anything goes bad, I did it. If anything goes semi-good, we did it. If anything goes really good, then you did it. That's all it takes to get people to win football games for you." ~ Bear Bryant

***I will always have a passionate opinion about my Gators:

They're wonderful!

Ouch - they're bad!

They're great!

They're awful!

Amazing!

Damn, they suck!

I'm spoiled in that recently, the anti-platitudes have been few and far between - our Gators teams of late have been pretty darn good. But having watched every home game in 1979 when the team went 0-10-1 and as a student in the ‘80s during the team's Dancing with Probation years, I've uttered my share of jabs and barbs.

However, part of being a sports fan is knowing that the fortunes of a team can change on a dime. And so will my opinions.

I'm a chick. It's my right to chance my mind. Yeah, that's right. I pulled the chick card. Nyah.

"Always remember... Goliath was a 40 point favorite over David." ~ Shug Jordan/Auburn

*** My prerogative: as a fan, I get to criticize and lambast and bemoan the fate and play of my team. My heart's with them - nothing wrong with a little tough love and constructive criticism.

However... when anyone else opens their big trap to criticize or lambast or bemoan the fate or play of my team... pffft. Not cool.

Even worse: I really don't appreciate being mocked or taunted or goaded about my team and their standing, success or otherwise. Don't do it to get a rise out of me - unless you want to fall into Dead To Me status with The Old Ball Coach. That's right - I no longer have love for Mr. Spurrier. It's part of my "if you're not for me, you're against me" adage. It was one thing to jump ship to coach in the NFL. It's another entirely to coach at an SEC East rival. Ergo the Dead to Me status. I take my sports teams very seriously - thinking it's "funny" to mess with me about them is the fastest way to end up on my Very Bad Side.

"I have yet to be in a game where luck was involved." ~ Urban Meyer

*** Let's be honest: try as I might, there's no way I can be objective or impartial or benevolent with a wrong call when it comes to my team.. Dude - holding? Really? And if that wasn't pass interference, I'm not a beer-loving, chicken-wing-digging (bleu cheese please), lip-gloss wearing diva football fan. Seriously. When I love, I love unconditionally and with a biased, affectionate eye. Suck it ref.

"But the real tragedy was that 15 hadn't been colored yet."

~ Steve Spurrier on a fire at Auburn's football dorm which destroyed 20 books (yeah, I know that Spurrier's at the top of my Dead to Me list. But this is a pretty hilarious quote. So there you are.)

*** Embedded in the fiber of my being and the foundation of my soul, there lies a well-bred, genteel Southern lady who was taught not to say unkind things about anyone (at least in the presence of those to whom she would be referring.)

However - that engrained character trait goes out the window when it comes to the main rivals of my team - specifically the horrid, wretched and vile Florida State Seminoles and Tennessee Volunteers. I loathe them. Despise them. Would even go so far as to say I hate them. I heckle their players whenever they appear on the telly, even if just in a commercial. I would root for the Devil in a showdown at Neyland Stadium. Don't get me started on that Lane Kiffin (jackass.) See - can't even write his name without a reflexive heckle. And then there's the current mayhem in Tallahassee, which I'm watching with a bemused eye and rooting for Bobby to stay as long as he can. I have this theory that neither Mr. Bowden nor Mr. Paterno is going to retire - the rivalry will end with one of them simply dying on the sideline. But I digress...

*** I am a true, through and through sports-loving girl. Let's emphasize that "girl" thing for a moment... while I'm going to appreciate the game and the stats and all the things my fellow testosterone-laden fans do, my estrogenical sensibilities are going to come shining through. And I'm going to make occasional comments that reflect that. I have taken my fair share of glances at those photos that accompanied Tim Tebow's GQ interview. That poster of Wayne Peace I had hanging on my dorm room wall wasn't just there because of my love of the game. Uh-uh.

I'm a girl. It's what I do.

So there you are - the Diva's Gator Pigskin Manifesto. Read it. Learn it.. Know it.

And I'll meet you at the stadium any time you like. Let's go!

"Don't cuss. Don't argue with the officials. And don't lose the game." ~ John Heisman

'84 Growl Program

Let the Diva Growl

home⋅com⋅ing  [hohm-kuhm-ing]
-noun
1. a return to one's home; arrival at home.
2. an annual event held by a college, university, or high school for visiting alumni

Ah, Homecoming in Gainesville. A hallowed time in the fall when venerable women's thoughts turn to reunions and memories and football - and young women's thoughts turn to parades and beer and parties and Gator Growl headliners.

As the child of two UF alums, who met cute in Library East one fine day, I attended Gator Homecoming events long before I was an actual student. Sure, there was the game - but it was Gator Growl that held the greatest appeal for the young Gator Diva. In those days, there was no celebrity "headliner", but there was plenty of entertainment. Skits and songs, the football team, the homecoming queen, Mr. Two Bits. So great. I remember being in awe of the skills of the Florida A&M Marching Band (more recent youtube clip below), a perennial guest star of Growl. And of course, that oft-forgotten act -- Micanopy's own Hobart Neville - the World Champion One Man Marching Band who could literally form a dot in the middle of the football field. Good stuff, that.

As I got older and closer to college age, other Homecoming activities piqued my interest. Seeing the College of Journalism & Communication with my dad (B.A. in Advertising) and meeting his peers and professors - and college boys! Attending the Law School skits - especially interesting in election years - featuring college boys! Having lunch at the Kappa Alpha house - more college boys! What? C'mon - I was a teenage girl. That's just how we looked at life - through hormonal-tinted glasses.

When I was gainfully enrolled as a student and part of the Greek system, Homecoming took on a whole new meaning. I marched in the parade as a sorority pledge; I toiled into the wee small hours of the morning working on parade floats with our partner fraternities; I helped hostess alum events on campus. And Gator Growl was still the centerpiece of everything - the event with the buzz, the prestige, the appeal. My freshman year was 1982 - the year Robin Williams and Mr. Happy hosted. I remember laughing so hard I cried - and then feeling very sorry for my brother, who was sitting with my mother, witnessing this very grown-up and adult performance. I booed Bob Hope in 1983. Fell asleep during Herbie Hancock in 1984 (I found him that boring and yes, I was that hungover. Shhh... don't tell.) Endured the Smothers Brothers in 1985. Cheered on my roommates on the Growl production staff in 1986.

Can't remember too much about the football games of those years - they were notorious for being played against lesser, weaker opponents. Suffice it to say that we celebrated those as well, with pre-game barbeques and visits from parents and family and a Bloody Mary or two.

Sad to say that my Homecoming memories pretty much end there - time and schedules and the nature of having a young family keeps me from getting to Gainesville and Florida Field as much as I'd like. But every time I hear the alma mater or the third quarter of a football game ends and I instinctively start to sway side-to-side and sing, I have my own mini-Homecoming of sorts. When I remember palm and pine blowing and southern seas flowing. A place where the girls are the fairest and the boys are the squarest of any old state down our way. Hey!

And in all kinds of weather, we do stick together for F-L-O-R-I-D-A.

Happy Homecoming, y'all. And Goooooooooo Gators!