WHY IS IT CALLED DEATH VALLEY?

On Saturday, September 19, 2015, I witnessed a football game at Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge, LA. It was Auburn vs. LSU with a scheduled local start time of 2:30pm. CBS dictated the kickoff time. The game time temperature was 91 degrees, making it the 5th hottest game time temperature in the history of LSU football.

The heat index on the field registered 119 degrees. As the game played on, the medical staff was being taxed. There was carnage everywhere. I am not talking about the field. The carnage was laid out in the concourses and ramps of Tiger Stadium. As I looked around, I started to understand why Tiger Stadium was called ‘Death Valley’ or did I.

Before I continue, let the story unfold from Friday, the day before the game. As I drove into the lots next to Tiger Stadium, I looked for a parking place. Not wanting to get a ticket or have my rental towed, I decided to seek help.

While examining my location, I spotted a person of authority. She was the jackpot. Within 15 minutes, this person shared many stories with me. One, she was in charge of the inner workings of the stadium. Her company also had a contract with other stadiums and racetracks in the United States.

She had great pride as she explained her and her staff duties. Her company responsibilities included, manning the concessions, maintaining the restrooms, and other functions within the concourses.

One thing that struck me odd was when she asked me how were things out in my part of the country. Confused by her question, I ask for further clarification. She told me that in her part of the country, 40 percent takes care of the other 60 percent. Not knowing the numbers in Las Vegas, I told her that I did not know.

As our conversation came to end, she showed me the direction. Once I secured my parking permit, I was anxious to see what Tiger Stadium was going to offer me that day. There is a certain peacefulness the day before the game.

As I walked around the stadium, taking my time, touching the outer shell with my hands and rubbing my elbow, using my imagination, I can sense past battles. Workers scurried about getting Tiger Stadium ready.

I thought for a moment about all the readiness that has to be completed before the stadium opens its door for its guests the next day. It is similar to getting a house or home in order for guests but on a much grander scale.

Guards were stationed at every gate, making it a challenge for unauthorized personnel to enter into the stadium. I always try to get in. Some Pilgrimages produce better results than others. One of the guards did tell me that he played high school football with Doug Williams. Doug Williams was the first starting black QB as a member of the Washington Redskins to win a Super Bowl. That was a ‘Historical Event’.

As I walked away, I wondered if any ‘Historical Events’ or ‘Moments’ awaited me for tomorrow’s game. While making my way around the stadium, across the street I saw a familiar name. It read: Pete Maravich Assembly Center.

Pistol Pete and I share the same hometown of Aliquippa, Pa. If you are unfamiliar with Pete Maravich, I encourage you to google him, especially if you are a college basketball fan.

The ‘Pistol’ is the all-time point’s leader in NCAA history. He scored in only three seasons 3,667 points for an average of 44.2 points a game. He was cited by the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame as “Perhaps the greatest creative offensive talent in history”.

As my walk continued, there was a curious structure. Taking a closer look, it was the habitat of Mike VI, the reigning Tiger mascot of the LSU Tigers. With the afternoon temperatures approaching record highs, Mike VI still drew onlookers as he rested in the shade. He was the king of his domain. More on Mike VI later.

As I concluded my tour, I came upon an unguarded gate. Workers were hauling extra supplies of water to various stations in anticipation to the ‘excessive heat warning’ for the game. I saw an opening.

As I observed my surroundings, it was obvious that I could enter the stadium and perhaps the field as an uninvited guest. I weighed out my options, standing in the shade. While drinking my water, and seeking relief from the heat, I counted my blessings.

It would be my best option to wait until tomorrow to enter Tiger Stadium/Death Valley as an invited guest; instead of crashing its gates as an uninvited guest. I came for its blessings not its scorn.

GAME DAY: My game plan is always to arrive to the stadium site five hours before kick-off. Walking to the stadium and touring the various tailgating festivities is about a 3 and 1/2 hour event. Entry into the stadium is an hour and a half before kick-off. Total Pilgrimage time at a stadium site including departure wait is between 10-12 hours.

As I was driving near Tiger Stadium, the multitudes of the faithful were in view. Large motor-homes were aligned in their spots. Flags blew above the tents. Colors were in full display. A battle loomed in the heat of Death Valley.

LSU provided free parking near its golf course. Depending where you parked, the average walk was a give or take a mile or more. This was a perfect location so I could return to my vehicle prior to entering the stadium.

Stepping out of my car, I was hit by the oppressive heat of Death Valley. I thought that I had come prepared, but as the morning turn into afternoon, I was grossly mistaken.

Things that I remember from the tailgating activities: The LSU fans are among the most hospitable fans in the country. There was a sea of purple and gold that stretched out over the land. Besides the Auburn fans, I too wore my hometown colors of Aliquippa, Pa.

It was obvious I was from somewhere else. And that somewhere else, though a dry heat, did not prepare me for the steam heat. Sweat poured down my brow as I walked around. I sought the shelter of shade among the trees and tents.

Part of my game plan is to stand outside or near the perimeter of a tailgating site. I then let outside forces take over. I think of Marcus Aurelius when he writes that everyone that he meets is there for his benefit, and he for theirs.

Another plan is; if a tailgate sight is outstanding, I will call out and seek the person(s) that is in charge. I make a quick introduction that I am from Las Vegas, enjoying my College Football Pilgrimage. Before no time, we are living our moments as “olde faithful friends”.

This picture includes the 2014 Fox Sports Bud Light Tailgate Champion, BJ Brooks and his parents.

After a return trip to my car and on my way to Tiger Stadium, I saw a man pushing himself with one leg while his cast leg rested on an elevated scooter. As thoughts entered my brain, the woman walking alongside him, stumbled because of her shoes.

Walking past them, I commented that she needs to be careful, or she may be getting her own scooter. She laughed, and I talked about how tough her husband was pushing himself in record setting heat to the stadium.

He was privy to our conversation. She said that she wanted to drop him off near the stadium, but he refused. Before I could ask why, he replied: “Because I am a Marine”. That one statement said it all. As I continued my journey, thoughts swirled through my heads: What awaits the Auburn Tigers inside of Death Valley.

Given directions by stadium personal, I received the longer route to my gate. The oppressive heat has engulfed the stadium. A slight breeze gives you hope. At this time, options are being played out in my brain.

If my seats are in the sun, how much water will I need and how much of this heat could I take. My body had not completely recovered from yesterday’s exposure. Being non-acclimated to this climate, I would be entering into unknown territory. The very worst, I could suffer from heat exhaustion or heat stroke. I did have my ID with me just in case.

As I made my way in, I was in search of a restroom and water. To my surprise, a special on water was on the menu. Large water was being sold at the price of regulars. I ordered two.

Walking up the ramp to my seat, I was able to get my first unobstructed view of inside Tiger Stadium. A buzz was starting to echo throughout the stadium as the crowd filtered in. I remembered what others told me while tailgating.

You should have come to a night game because the energy is so different. The reason, the energy is so different, the fans have more energy due to the cooler temperatures. I had nothing to compare to. Though I dreamt, of a night game, sometimes we get to play in our day dreams.

After taking my initial photos, I ventured upward to my seat. The heat inside of the concourses was to exceed the heat outside. Getting closer to my destination I saw the light. Another standing unobstructed view in the shade was available.

My request was granted. I could now stand in the shade and watch the game. To be honest with you, the choice to sit in my seat would not have produced the results that I wanted.

HOW HOT WAS IT? Mike VI decided it was too hot and stayed in his cooler habitat. I was informed that because of the animal right groups, Mike VI now has a choice. Before the intervention, Mike VI and Mikes before him used to be sprayed with a fire hose to enter the transport cage.

Now Mike VI with his new rights, now calls the shots. That should have been my first warning. If it is too hot for Mike VI, then it is too hot for me. I am thanking God for this shade and for my water.

As the LSU Band finished the Star Spangled Banner, two jets roared above the stadium raising the energy level of the crowd and the goose-flesh on my skin. A message scrolled quickly under the far luxury/press boxes.

It said something like welcome to this sacred place. It was moving quickly, and I do not know if others saw it. It had religious connotations and made me realize, that I must be in the right place. In reality, we are always where we should be and I was PLAYIN IN MY DAY DREAMS.

The following are a few of my observations from my vantage point:
Having my goose-flesh raised is always a ‘Blessing’. LSU has some of the toughest fans in the country. To tailgate for hours in the oppressive heat and to bring the ‘energy’ to Tiger Stadium was impressive.

I was grateful being in the shade and not having to deal with the uncovered extremities. Doubts still swirled in my somewhat delusional brain. I was unsure if I could past the test, the test of Death Valley.

Both the Auburn and LSU Bands deserve a tip of my cap. When I arrived an hour and a half before kick-off, both bands were already inside Death Valley. The Auburn Band was seated in my near end zone.

The Auburn Band remained in their seats in full ‘Band Attire’ from that time until the end of the game. They played their asses off every moment possible, regardless of the score. Tiger Stadium is the 6th largest NCAA stadium at 102,321. The size permitted each band to play simultaneously at each break.

Unlike the Auburn Band, the LSU band in full ‘Band Attire’ performed in the pre-game and half-time festivities, returning to their seats for the game. I overhead a fan commenting, that the local high schools do not permit full ‘Band Attire’ until the cooler temperatures settle in. Both bands were impressive.

In was early in the contest, while during a break, I turned and saw this sight. All I can is that, they indoctrinate their youngins early, in the ways of LSU Football and Death Valley. Check the ear muffs. The infant was six weeks old.

It was at the end of the first quarter when I spotted the carnage on the ramps in the corridors. Medical personnel were attending to the fallen, as they sought refuge from the weather. I was only located at one gate. How many other gates was this scene being played out in?

This is when my thoughts turned to ‘Death Valley’. Could this intense heat cause a fatality? I asked the LSU fan next to me about Death Valley. The first thing he said to me was, this is the ‘Real Death Valley’. Do not let the fans of Clemson and others tell you different.

I knew that both schools shared the same name. He then went on and told me a fabulous story on the history of Death Valley. He said that the football field was where the 600 made their last stand.

It was the final battle of the Civil War for Baton Rouge. These 600 Confederate soldiers, who were vastly outnumbered followed their commands and fought to their death, thus the name ‘Death Valley’. I thought back to the scrolling about this being a sacred site. The dots started to connect.

I looked out into the stadium, a sea of purple and gold. I wondered how many of these fans would lay down their life and/or limb for their LSU Tiger Football Team. My answer was ‘all of them’. In normal situations when a heat weather advisory is given, one should stay indoors.

Every one of those fans in attendance demonstrated insanity. A sane person would have heeded those warnings. This is what you call ‘Passion’. These fans risked their health to cheer and support their team.

While walking back to my car, I thanked the forces for my survival. There were a few moments, even in the shade when I had my doubts. But a breeze and water always resuscitated me when needed.

There were medical personnel ending their shift. I stopped and asked, “How many went down”? He replied, “Bunches”. I said, “Bunches, how many was that”? He just looked down and shook his head and kept repeating, bunches, and bunches. As I walked away, I thought about the 600.

For you football fans, yes there was a game. LSU jumped all over Auburn the first offensive play of the game. Running behind an impressive offensive line, Leonard Fournette ran 72 yards to inside the Auburn five yard line. Two plays later LSU was on the board, causing a loud engine roar from the crowd.

It was not much of a game after that. Auburn played as though they were thinking about Mike VI and his cool habitat. Fournette rushed for a career high of 228 yards and 3 TDs in less than three quarters. LSU rushed for 411 yards as a team, for 3rd place in program history.

Overall, I was very impressed with the LSU team. Defensively is where they hang their hats. Offensively, they are ‘old school’ and want to physically kick your ass. Special teams are still developing. Combine that with a maturing QB, they can be force to be reckoned with. Time will tell of their results.

Walking to my car, a nagging question remained. What was the heat index on the playing field? I questioned others as I passed them. One LSU fan responded. He said 119 degrees. When asked how this compared to the hottest heat index ever at Death Valley, he replied:

A friend of his repeated what he heard on the local TV station. The old heat index at Death Valley was 115 degrees, meaning that a new record of 119 degrees had been established. I tried to verify that stat with the internet, with no results.

However, if you believed those sources, I witnessed a ‘Historical Event’. The hottest heat index ever recorded in the history of Tiger Stadium/Death Valley. My jubilation was overshadowed by the ecstasy of my survival.

As I drove away from Tiger Stadium, I said my thanks for all the ‘blessings’ that I received today. I thanked it for the record setting heat index mark. I had a new appreciation for the name of ‘Death Valley’.

Putting together this piece always requires source checks. The following is what I discovered about ‘Death Valley’.

Although LSU’s Tiger Stadium was constructed nearly 20 years earlier, the “Death Valley” nickname was first applied to Clemson’s Memorial Stadium in reference to Howard’s Rock…, which was plucked for the desert sands of the actual Death Valley in California. LSU’s use of the nickname came along quite by accident. In a tongue-in-cheek reference to Clemson Memorial’s nickname, LSU supporters began referring to their stadium as “Deaf Valley”, due to the magnificent volume levels produced within. Unfortunately, this creativity was lost on television commentators, newspaper men, and, yep, a lot of us football fans alike, and after years of incorrectly referring to both as “Death Valley”, the nickname stuck in Baton Rouge as well.

There was no mention of the 600. Folklore adds its own on mystery. Regardless, it just enhanced my 2015 College Football Pilgrimage, and contributed to my story. The pleasantries from the LSU fans will always be remembered.

One fan said just tell the others what you told me, and the LSU fans will show you that LSU hospitality. I told him thank you for your ‘blessing’. Using his ‘blessing’ as my calling card, I approached each new encounter with:

I came all the way from Las Vegas to see this game. This is the first stop of my College Football Pilgrimage. After explaining the term ‘Pilgrimage’, I was offered food and drink from the LSU faithful. I was a stranger in a strange land, but I experienced moments with ‘olde faithful friends’.

Reactions I take with me were the comments that others made about my Pilgrimage. All loved the concept. Some indicated that a Pilgrimage of their own could be a possibility. A few called me lucky. Without knowing of my website, I heard more say this year, “Hey honey there is a man over there PLAYIN IN HIS DREAMS”.

One last story, before I conclude this post. How many of you have ever retraced your steps from a previous trip, or work related activity. It was 1971. As a member of the Pitt football team, we flew into New Orleans for a football game against Tulane at the old Sugar Bowl Stadium.

Since the game was Saturday night, an additional night after the game with curfew was scheduled. While flying on the charter to New Orleans, one of the flight attendants confided in me.

She said there was a mix up about the charter. The ground crew had delivered miniature bottles of alcohol for the flight. Since these could not be served on the flight, she asked if I would like any for my stay in New Orleans.

Not one to pass on a gift, I asked how many. She replied as many as I could carry concealed in my sports jacket. As I stood in the first class serving area, she secretly slid those miniature bottles into my hands, which made their way into my jacket.

Total booty, included 15 miniature bottles of assorted liquor. With these in my possession, visions of me on Bourbon Street after the game danced in my head. I have to be honest with you.

My tenure at Pitt during the early 70’s is remembered as the ‘Dark Days’ of Pitt Football. However, it did produce results, a Major Change occurred. Coach John Majors of Iowa State University was named the Head Football Coach at Pitt University for the 73 season.

Led by Heisman Trophy Winner Tony Dorsett (Aliquippa Native), Coach John Majors wins a National Championship in 1976. I had met Coach Majors a few times on the recruiting trail four years earlier. While congratulating Coach Majors in the Pitt football offices on his hiring, I said that we had met previously.

As I was about to tell him my name, he looked me right in the eyes while shaking my hand and said, “You are George Feher from Aliquippa”. He blew me away with his response. Four years later, Pitt hoisted a National Championship Banner.

I was also blest with the opportunity to be a graduate assistant football coach on his inaugural staff while completing my last term at Pitt. It was my trip to the Fiesta Bowl that season that exposed me to the beauty of the desert.

As my visions played out on Bourbon Street after our defeat to Tulane, my first stop to drown my miseries was the world’s famous Pat O’Brien’s. A Hurricane with four shots of rum could ease my sufferings. Plus, in those days the Hurricane was served in their designer glass shape and you could walk the streets with it.

As I strolled with my teammates, sipping my Hurricane, refills were in order. Those miniature liquor bottles were shared as needed. Our curfew was 2 am. At 3 am, I find myself in Your Father’s Mustache. It was a bar with sing along music, played by three musicians.

I noticed our radio announcer Bill Hillgrove (Bill is still the voice of the Panthers) sitting with his party. Alcohol is being served and the music is playing, but no one is singing. The reason no one in the small crowd is singing, because only the musicians know the lyrics.

Eventually, I stood up and declared, “We came all the way down here from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, could you play something we could sing to”? My request was granted with ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’. I do not remember how many verses we sang.

But sing and march we did. It started inside, as the three piece band led the way. Our small group sang loud and proud, as the band led us up and down Bourbon St. at 3:30 am. Leading us back to our original point, the party then dispersed.

Part of my Pilgrimage this year was to retrace possible footsteps on Bourbon St. Only my starting place remained. Your Father’s Mustache was only a memory. While standing outside Pat O’Brien’s, I remembered the outside courtyard.

It was in the courtyard in 1971 where a special serving bar for Hurricanes to go was set up. The bar on the right is where I entered. This late Monday afternoon, things were slow, but talk among the few enhanced the area.

I told Sam the bartender, about retracing my steps. He said he hears that a lot. The woman sitting next to me tells us that her husband was to make the business trip with her. Emergency back surgery said otherwise. Other chatter with ‘olde faithful friends’ filled the air.

After Sam refreshed my memory about the four shots of rum in my Hurricane, I decided that I should eat to help the absorption of the alcohol. A return trip by rental car to my motel was still on the menu.

Sam rattled off the daily lunch specials as I was reviewing the menu. An order of the Blacken Chicken was submitted. Upon receiving the meal, I followed the lead of the woman next to me and took a photo of it.

As I was thoroughly enjoying the meal and the moment, I asked Sam if this was the Blackened Chicken from the menu. I vaguely recalled that potatoes and vegetables were to be served. He said no, that this was the special of the day.

I jokingly asked, how special? He replied with; today was the first time that this special was ever served at Pat O’Brien’s. I was the first customer to ever order it and eat it. I said “Get the hell out of here”. He looked at me ‘smiled’ and said something like, apparently they knew you were coming and they must have made this especially for you.

I thought about the story of the 600, and Death Valley as I continued with my meal and Hurricane. Maybe it was more than folklore. Voodoo and other forces roam the streets of New Orleans and its surroundings.

Perhaps it was that olde black magic that created another ‘Historical Moment/Event’ for me as I retraced my steps in the “Big Easy”. Or did Sam serve me another folklore. Only Sam knows. Personally, “I do not know Sam I am”.

My Pilgrimage continues in Lexington, Kentucky. Missouri Tigers vs. the Kentucky Wildcats. The religious site is known as Commonwealth Stadium. I wonder what ‘blessing’ awaits me there. To be continued.