In case you're new to the world of college, one pre-game tradition some students choose to participate in involves drinking yourself into a complete can't talk, don't even bother to try to walk, thinking the stadium's your dorm room stupor. No judgement--different strokes for different folks. I actually had the pleasure of running into one such student today. Actually he kinda slid into me as he started rolling down the stairs....

My friend and I were arriving late to the stadium today for the game (why we were late is another long story) and running (aka walking quickly) up the million flights of stairs we have to take to get to our wonderful seats right underneath the scoreboard (I really think even my tickets my freshman year were better than the tickets I got my senior year. Go figure. Sorry, another long story.) when we found said student---let's call him Bob--with an arm in a cast and falling his way down the stairs. We thought about just leaving him to his own devices, but we were quite a few stories up and didn't want the guy to ruin his buzz by rolling down the remaining flights of concrete steps (complete with metal handrail he kept hitting his head on), so we went back to help him.

It took one step--and one attempted word from him--for us to realize how entirely wasted he actually was. I've seen a lot of drunk people in my time, and Bob here was beyond drunk. He was "shoulda passed out twenty minutes ago" drunk. But we managed to get him down to the bottom level. Bob then informed us that he didn't live on the bottom floor, he lived on the second floor, in room 22. Thinking he might have been talking about his seat, we walked him back up to the second level. When he starting asking me to find his room key so he could open his door, we decided maybe it would be better to get him away from the railing and back on the ground.

Back on the ground level, Bob started getting frustrated with me, because he felt "like this is the bottom floor. Not the second floor" and that I was being mean and trying to trick him. One of the guys at the gates stepped in then (here Bob informs me that I'm a bad person) and my friend and I started heading back up the stairs just in time to see Bob attempt the same thing and a cop have to chase him down mid-wobble.

Sorry Bob if you weren't 21 yet and we got you in trouble, but seriously dude, why drink that much when you know you're goin to a place where ya have to deal with a million stairs, bleachers, and cops? At least try to stay seated so ya don't go sliding into people on the stairs. Or if you absolutely have to drink, save the majority of it for after we win at home where you might actually have something softer to fall down on.