On my way to work every Sunday after a home game, there are a few things I can count on.
There’s the acrid stink of urine in the staircase outside of Hodges Hall right by the Reveille newsroom. There are piles of cans and cardboard littered across the green spaces of campus. After a classic Saturday night in Death Valley, it always looks like the campus garbage cans saw how much fun everyone else was having and decided to start vomiting everywhere, too.
Magically — by which I mean through liberal application of sub-minimum wage inmate labor — the grotesque piles of trash disappear by the time classes start Monday. And that’s fantastic.
It’s a testament to University administration and the Office of Facility Services that we manage to hold and house this weekly tide of humanity and dispose of what must be literal tons of garbage, all while managing to look like a fully-functioning institution of learning again Monday morning.
But should it really be necessary? Should it be such a source of amazement that our school was able to wrangle up enough manpower just to clean up our trash?
For a lot of people, LSU football is a source of pride — and with good reason. We have an enormous, absurdly loud stadium, a history steeped in great stories and tradition and a constant carousel of great players. But when we’re always talking about legendary names like Billy Cannon or the intangible aura of Death Valley, it’s easy to forget that LSU is, really, just a school.
It’s a physical place. About 2,000 acres, with thousands of students who live here for months at a time. Even for those who don’t live on campus, this is our home.
So imagine this: you and your 6,000 roommates are throwing a party, and more than a hundred thousand people from around the country are going to show up. You’re not going to throw your empties on the ground, are you? Surely you won’t piss down your own stairs?
Hopefully not.
Hopefully, you’re going to keep some semblance of self-control. Because no matter how weird you like to get and no matter how fired up you are about what Katy Perry said you smelled like, you are a civilized, educated adult. And adults don’t leave yard-high piles of trash in their own living rooms.
It shouldn’t be any different for our campus after a football game.
Admittedly, all of the blame and responsibility for this doesn’t fall on the students. Sure, it’s our campus to take care of, but on game days, we are in the minority.
I’m sure there are a few groups of tailgaters that are really conscientious about their trash. They probably bring their own bags, separate recyclables and take everything to the appropriate receptacles when the day’s festivities have ended.
If those people exist, I’m forever grateful to them. But their efforts are pretty much null balanced against the total carnage a game day wreaks on our campus. Most tailgates seem to come, have a great time, watch the game and pack up, leaving a wasteland of fallen purple-and-gold Bud Light soldiers in their wake.
It just screams a lack of respect for the permanent side of their weekend party.
Their concerns end with the result of the game. But win or lose, we’ll be here Monday, waking up for an 8:30 accounting lab. Some of us will be here Sunday for work.
It’d be really nice if we didn’t have to stare at the trash all the weekend warriors leave behind.
If you want to have Tiger Pride, that’s fine. But act like you deserve to have pride in something. Don’t throw your trash on the ground.
I can’t even believe I had to say that.
Gordon Brillon is a 21-year-old mass communication senior from Lincoln, Rhode Island. You can reach him on Twitter @TDR_GBrillon.