Carnival of Sorts: On Tailgating


The dark clouds that dumped buckets of rain all night cleared off just as the sun peeked over the horizon. The parking lots around Notre Dame Stadium were still, apart from the chirping of crickets in the grass, and the hushed conversations of a few attendants in reflective green vests, who stood around waiting for the masses to arrive.

At 7 a.m., a loud and familiar noise broke the predawn silence: the clanging of ice hitting a cooler full of bottles.

Tailgating season had begun.

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