This past weekend was my yearly (or sometimes more often) UCLA Reunion, where my college friends and I organize a trip somewhere in the U.S. to watch a UCLA sporting event. This past weekend's destination - Austin, TX for the UCLA vs. Texas football game!
THE GAME
For those of you who hid under a rock this weekend - UCLA pulled off this season's upset of the year by thrashing the #7-ranked Texas Longhorns 34-12! I can tell you that my friends and I went to Austin with the intent to have a great time, see a great football town, watch a game, and enjoy each other's company. You will notice that list didn't include UCLA winning anywhere. But nonetheless, there we were, leaning over the railing of the stands, high-fiving the UCLA players as they celebrated their shocking victory.
We were all stunned. We couldn't believe it. We not only beat them, we beat them convincingly. They made the mistakes, not us. We made the big plays when it mattered, not them. They dropped passes, fumbled the ball, and never had an answer for us. It was, in a word, perfect.
But the most shocking part of the whole game was what transpired as we left the stadium. As we trekked back to our hotel, we had to walk through about 15-20 blocks of Texas post-game tailgates. We readied ourselves for the constant berating, cat-calls, boo's, and anything else expected from fans of a team who just had their butt handed to them on a platter. So we began our victory lap, proud to have won, but not wanting to be the overly-boisterous fans who rub it in after the fact...
And then we got killed with kindness. We didn't know what hit us. We walked through a graveyard of defeated souls, and they had nothing but praise and compliments for us.
"Great game, you played great."
"Man, y'all kicked our butts out there today."
"You folks enjoy Austin tonight, you earned it."
"This is your town tonight."
"Make sure you go to this bar, you'll have a fun time."
HUH?! We were floored. We went from being ecstatic about our stunning victory, to feeling guilty about winning because these amazingly nice fans lost. We tried to come up with responses to their hospitable attitudes. We wanted to tell them their running back was good for about 3 minutes in the 3rd quarter. We wanted to tell them we respect their coach. But all we could utter was "Thank You", because we didn't know what hit us.
But I digress...let's get to the good stuff...
THE FOOD
If you have a weak stomach, or would prefer not to hear about the unconscionable menu of food I ran through during my 2-day stay, you should skip down to "THE TOWN" section of this post. If you want to hear my legendary ravaging of the Austin fare - enjoy my friends!
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The menu at Chupacabra was filled with your stereotypical tacos, burritos, enchilada type place, with one exception - the Tijuana Dog.
Tijuana Dog - my choice of the day...1/4 pound all beef jumbo dog, wrapped in bacon and deep fried, served on a hoagie roll and topped with cheese, jalapenos and spicy mayo. Yep, read it again. Deep fried hot dog. I ate it. I liked it. Let's move on.
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After the game, we stopped for a quick snack and slice of pizza at a random trailer. Help me out UCLA people, what was the name? It was GOOOOOOOD.
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Sunday snack, about 30min after tacos, Branden and I stopped at Sandy's Hamburgers for a frozen-custard root beer float. AMAZING.
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THE TOWN
As mentioned earlier, the people could not have been nicer or more hospitable. Everywhere we went we had excellent service, helpful locals and lots of smiles. Austin is definitely a wacky, funky town. 6th Street is an animal of its own, with every type of bar imaginable, from old school country to upscale ritzy to pubs to clubs...they had it all.
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On Saturday, the town is all about football. Tailgates everywhere you look. Every person is wearing burnt orange for their beloved Longhorns. Mack Brown is a God. Lots of Miller Light, cowboy hats, BBQ and music. We had a great time walking around the area to see an entire town with a "football culture."
All in all, I give Austin two, overly-pudgy-due-to-food thumbs up.
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