Wild and wonderful.
There isn’t a state in the union that has more of an appropriate state motto as West Virginia or a town that encompasses said motto as well as Morgantown.
From the moment my friend and I arrived on campus, we knew we were in for a brand-new experience.
We parked at a church a little more than a mile from the stadium. Armed with nothing but a fifth of Seagrams 7 and a large Sierra Mist from a gas station, we soon began our trek to meet up with friends.
We reached their tailgate in the parking lot of an AT&T store with the campus perched atop a mountain on the horizon. The tailgating scene was pretty simplistic, mostly just beer and finger foods with some lawn chairs all held together by a truck bed or two.
While at the tailgate, we did see a man among men. This man rebelled against everything his own school stood for simply because, well, I think he just felt like it.
Despite numerous advertisements, e-mails and even a refund offer from West Virginia officials about not wearing shirts that were profane, our new friend separated himself from the crowd.
He was perched at the tailgate next to us in a navy blue T-shirt that stated simply, in three words on three lines, “West Fuckin