LSU football is one of the most iconic football programs in American college football history, claiming many championships, professional players and high rankings to prove it. But ask anyone who has been to Baton Rouge on game day, and they’ll tell you LSU football isn’t all about what happens in Tiger Stadium. Love it or hate it, LSU tailgating is its own phenomenon that also has accolades all to itself, typically ranked among top five tailgating schools nationwide (second by New Arena, first by 247 Sports.)
However, these rankings come with some baggage. Coming from a smaller, more relaxed school (Geaux Dawgs), I’ve often found LSU fans…intense. The incessant chants of “tiger bait,” tent productions rivaling Vegas day parties, and the colorful insults hurled at an opposing team’s beloved mascot have given LSU fans a reputation as one of the rudest fanbases to interact with according to outlets such as Barstool and Bleacher Report. Now, is it possible that some of this could be Bama propaganda? Possibly, though I digress.
But here’s the deal: LSU is not the only large school to pre-game the pre-game. A few states east, Clemson fans have also found a way to party onto those same lists. So, I travelled to Clemson, South Carolina, to find the good, the bad, and the ugly of Tiger tailgating: purple-and-orange edition.
To be scientific, I focused on the elements of a good tailgate: location, organization, food, music, and fan interaction. My day started with a golf cart ride from the edge of campus to the heart of Clemson University, Memorial Stadium (aka the so-called “Death Valley”) to attend a joint LSU-Clemson tailgate firsthand.
I rolled into Clemson around 3 p.m., four hours before kickoff. The outskirts of campus felt familiar with a few dispersed family tailgates tucked under trees, though as I approached Memorial Stadium, things changed. Neat rows of tents surrounded the stadium, making navigation easy, but soon became a crowded, stifling experience in the mid-afternoon sun.
Now, inside the tent city, the food was next to catch my attention: an array of store bought cheese boards and chicken tacos could not compete with the jambalaya and boudin served by the Louisiana visitors.
Next, the music, or rather, the lack thereof. While Baton Rouge tailgates thump with a heavy bounce beat, Clemson fans seemed to prefer to pass the time in polite conversation – less Lil’ Boosie, more southern gentleman.
As kickoff drew closer, Clemson kept its cordial atmosphere with spirited chants and good game wishes. This good sportsmanship seemed to surprise many LSU fans, however, who mostly responded with a very particular chant that accompanies a very particular song that has a very particular monetary fine attached to it, should the Golden Band from Tiger land not follow particular rules. Nonetheless, Clemson fans remained good-natured despite the loss, completing the night with “good game” handshakes as fans in their various shades of purple left campus.
Overall, the Clemson tailgating experience offers a family-friendly and well-organized experience that LSU could learn from. But when it comes to keeping the good times rolling? Sorry, Clemson. We’ll send a box of jambalaya mix and a Baton Rouge bounce playlist to spice up your next game day.
Thomas Bergeron is a 25-year-old geography graduate student from Baton Rouge.

