Just rolled into the promised land — the Padelford parking garage — and my tailgate spot smells like victory (and maybe a little bit like burnt bratwurst). The Husky Faithful seem to be late to arrive but my flags are flapping, the grill is smoking, and I’m blasting the 1991 highlight reel on repeat like it’s church.
Got my lucky purple socks (haven’t been washed since the Apple Cup), my “Duck Season” apron, and a cooler full of Raindogs (if you know, you know). The menu? Classic: Husky Dawgs, purple potato salad, and jalapeño poppers shaped like little W’s. Even the chips are purple — don’t ask how, just believe. (Plenty for you Nacho!)
The Maryland Twerps (see what I did there? Har har) are in town, bless their hearts. They think they’re ready, but they’ve clearly never seen a middle-aged Dawg fan in full war paint at 7 a.m. with three brats, two beers, and one strong opinion about the top 25 snub.
Everywhere you look it’ll soon be purple heaven — as soon as the sun comes up I’m sure there will be kids tossing footballs, dogs wearing UW jerseys, and alumni arguing over who the greatest Husky QB of all time is (Go Jake!).
And Go Dawgs! Beat the Twerps!
Where my Dawgs at?