ClayNation Dixieland Delight College Football Tour: USC at UF

The War of the Visors came to Gainesville, Fla., on Saturday.

Everywhere you looked, Florida fans who refused to relinquish their Steve Spurrier-inspired visors came face-to-face with South Carolina fans who have newly embraced theirs. It was bare-headed warfare, a Velcro-ed Civil War, a golf course tussle against par brought to a North Florida gridiron. At any moment I expected a country-club infused rumble to erupt on University Avenue -- for ascots and sweater vests to go firing into the air and for a woman wearing a Burberry scarf to scream bloody murder as she tossed a lit martini in the direction of her foes.

Welcome to the newest rivalry in the Southeastern Conference, where both schools owe their football success to the same man. The game would eventually be as even as the visor-clad heads. By the time the ball came to rest on the final play, more than 90,000 fans were completely drained of emotion, their voices were hoarse and hardly anything seemed to separate the two sides. Certainly not a coach.

But that was in the future. First, the DDT had to manage to make it to Gainesville, Fla., in time for the game.

1. I'm flying on this leg of the DDT. Southwest Airlines. This means I don't receive a seat assignment. I've gotten used to this fact. What I haven't gotten used to is that Southwest now allows you to check in for your scheduled flight and print your boarding pass roughly 96 days in advance. And if you make a tremendous error in printing your boarding pass and wait until, say, 94 days before your scheduled flight, you will be in the B or C boarding group. This means all the A people will board, take all the aisle seats, and slow down the entire boarding process by requiring every single row of people to stand and allow you to slide inside their row.

2. And woe unto you if you are flying with a significant other and forget to check in 96 days before your flight. This spring, my wife and I flew to Fort Lauderdale, and I forgot to check in, which meant we were in the hated C group. My wife had to sit in the center aisle between two fat men. Every now and then she would turn toward me with such a chilling look it turned three small children to ice.

That's because on Southwest if you're in the C group, it's the rough equivalent of having air-travel leprosy. All the elitist A and B boarders sort of sneer at you when you pass them in the aisle and attempt to stuff your bag into a crammed overhead bin. And then they sigh and kick you in your shins when you have to crawl over them and fall into the middle seat where, of course, both armrests have already been claimed as well.

3. As if this isn't bad enough, the people in the A, B and C groups all line up in these cattle lines that Southwest has provided. Some people will stand in line for more than two hours just staring straight ahead and doing nothing but staring. Nary a book, magazine, crossword puzzle or iPod in their hand. How boring is your life if being first in line for the airplane is this important? ClayNation Canon No. 249: If you're willing to stand in line to board a flight for a longer period than your actual flight time, your life is going to be just as boring when you land.

4. This time, I'm in the B group, so I'm feeling a bit confident. So confident that I stop and buy a barbecue plate meal in a Styrofoam container. While buying my food, I run into my former law school classmate, Steven Simmons, who is coincidentally also a former Vanderbilt male cheerleader. Simmons came to the Vanderbilt Homecoming game with me a few weeks ago. For some reason, I douse my barbecue sandwich in enough mild sauce to sink a small boat. We're all on the same flight, so we make our way to the gate.

5. By the time we arrive at the gate, the lines stretch almost the width of the terminal. I attempt to eat my food with limited success. The barbecue sandwich is falling apart and my decision to go with corn-on-the-cob is basically inexplicable. Eventually I give up and throw away my food. Across the River Ganges in front of us, it's possible someone is saying something at our gate.

6. Simmons' wife, Brenna, explains to us that when she was in seventh and eighth grade, they used to spend PE class at Ensworth School in Nashville by running laps with tires strapped to their backs. Neither Simmons nor I will accept the truth of this. When we land, the kid in front of us stands and tell Simmons' wife that he presently goes to Ensworth. I ask him if he has to run with tires strapped to his back. He says he doesn't. His mother arches her eyebrows. "He's too young," Brenna says.

7. I'm meeting my law school friend Neville in Tampa. Neville graduated from UF and practices law downtown. Unfortunately, he e-mails to say that he can't pick me up from the airport because his brother is visiting and there are no cars to be rented in Tampa. This means we have to wait for him to come pick us up since he has Neville's car. "We're the equivalent of sixth grade girls who have to wait after soccer practice," he says.

8. Eventually we get picked up and make our way to Borat. If you haven't already, please go see the movie. It's possible the three South Carolina frat guys are the worst advertisement for their school in cinematic history. This is my second time seeing the movie. After the first viewing, my wife refused to believe that the guys were actually being themselves. In only five minutes they manage to be misogynistic, racist, dumb, unintelligible and annoying without ever being funny. Think about how hard this is to do.