Clemson homecoming was this weekend, and while so many of my friends (and friends of friends, and their friends) celebrated with tailgating and cold beverages, I found myself once again living on the corner of Glitz and Glamour (I'm getting address labels printed). Specifically, on the couch with a cough, cold, sore throat and general lack of will to live.
While Tiger fashionistas carefully planned their best orange game day attire, the only reason I got out of my pajamas all weekend was so I could look forward to putting them back on again. Clint was sick, too, and our couch logged about a billion frequent sitter miles while we put the TiVo through its paces. The two of us stumbled around like extras from the set of the Walking Dead.
Clemson had cookouts and kickoff, we had Kleenex and cough drops. We didn't make it to Tiger Town Tavern, but we did down some shots of Nyquil and some serious mugs of Theraflu. Campus was littered with stray pom poms and Solo cups, while the Stancil abode was a sea of McDonald's cups and takeout containers. And while the crowd roared with enthusiasm in Death Valley, my cough perfectly mimicked a barking seal and chorused through our house all weekend. We've got spirit, yes we do, we've got spirit, and the flu!
While I enjoyed looking at everyone's adorable, festive, Tiger paw filled photos, I will spare you any pictures from our weekend. Y'all were homecoming, we were home bound and quarantined. Clemson fans' enthusiasm is contagious, and so was whatever almost killed us the last four days.
So if you felt like something was missing on Saturday, that something was ME. Hopefully, we will make up for it next year. We'll be louder, more orange, with even more Tiger paws and Tiger pride. In the meantime, I'll be planning my tailgate. And my outfit.