I travelled to Oxford, Miss., this past Friday afternoon to spend some quality time with an old friend and to get ready for the big game between LSU and Ole Miss.
Shortly after my arrival, we set our sights on downtown Oxford for a little partying at the local bars. We hadn’t been there 10 minutes before a huge brawl broke out between nearly 20 LSU and Ole Miss fans which lasted about 20 minutes.
Arms were swinging. Fists were flying. People were falling. One guy was lying face down on the street when an “enemy” began stomping on his face. Needless to say, he needed medical attention. He was unconscious for nearly 15 minutes.
Did I mention this was all because of a football game?
I came away queazy from the sight of that, but it was just a prelude of what was to come.
When we left the bar, we received news that there was a stand off in the square. On one side, LSU fans. On the other, Ole Miss fans. And in the middle, members of the Oxford police department.
While approaching the “stand off,” I expected about 20 or 30 fans on each side of the street, but when we arrived we were caught off guard at the hundreds of fans lining each side of the road. LSU on one side, Ole Miss on the other, just itching to get the chance to cross over – like a Civil War battle field.
My reporter’s instincts led me to the “front line,” and I left my friends behind. I walked to the front and met some cordial Ole Miss fans. We were amazed at what we saw and joked about how ridiculous this all was.
As I was introducing myself to my new friends, someone violently pushed me from behind, and – in a language not suited for a newspaper – basically told me to go to the other side of the street.
My new friends told them to calm down, saying that I was “cool” and was not doing anything. But I was wearing a purple LSU fleece. I was the enemy.
My six Ole Miss friends found me while a group of 20 to 30 Ole Miss fans began pushing me and swinging at me. My friends created a protective circle around me, pleading with their classmates that I was a friend, not the enemy.
As the fists flew close to my face, I attempted to grab them and shake them, proving to the raucous mob that I meant no harm. I was just like them, only I happened to be wearing different color clothes.
As they screamed, “Go to Hell!” I felt as if I were already there.
Just when my protective circle was about to be penetrated, my collar was yanked, nearly ripping my jacket. It was an Oxford policeman. At first I felt safe, but then he yelled at me saying, “Get on your side of the street, Coonass!” I was unaware that I had a side of the street.
My friends, who were still holding on to me, attempted to explain to the cop that I was a friend. But before they could finish their pleas, the cop raised his maglight, nearly hitting one of my friends in the head.
My friend asked the cop, “Why won’t you keep them off of him?” The cop replied, “We’re only arresting Coonasses tonight!”
I had never been so scared in my entire life. The cop shoved me onto the other side of the street with all his might and into the arms of LSU fans who accepted me as if I was a long lost brother. I wanted nothing to do with them.
I then made eye contact with my friends, and we raced through the angry mob and made it to our vehicle without a scratch.
Did I mention this was all because of a football game?
I have travelled all around the South in my years as an LSU sportswriter, and never have I experienced such a hostile environment. And if it seems I am blaming Rebel fans, you are highly mistaken.
LSU fans and Ole Miss fans should be ashamed of themselves for their actions leading up to this game.
I don’t care about how intense the rivalry is. I know what was at stake in this game – I’m a sportswriter. But for people to become so fanatic about a game is ridiculous. If Louisiana and Mississippi residents could garner that much emotion about education, we wouldn’t be the dumbest, poorest states in the country.
This was not about religion. This was not about politics. This was not about family. This was about a game, a football game. A game in which not one person on that street had anything to do with.
My life was threatened. The reason – I was wearing a purple fleece.