My pops used to take me and my brother to games when we were kids. He really didnt like to tailgate. So we were always glad to go to the games...but never really got to tailgate unless my mom went and made him tailgate. We used to leave Greenville about 2 hours before kickoff (we had to beg him out that early). He used to drive through, what he called Worm Holes. These were the most convoluted backroads to Clemson. I could never tell where we were and we never went the same way twice. But we would miraculously appear near Bowman field. Cars were everywhere but very few people were about. He would pull into that old Hardees and get what he called "mustard burgers". Hardess used to sell burgers that were drenched in too much mustard. We swore they stepped on them before bagging them up. They were flat and full of mustard. We would drive up to a tree, park, wolf down the burgers in the back of his car, and head to the Valley. He never packed a chair, a cooler, nothing. He was genuinely baffled by it. He wore a rat hat and shook his head at the church picnic feel. He approached the game like battle....not a reception. We'd walk in and get to our seats in time to see the Tigers run down the Hill. He's almost 71 and he still loves to scream his lungs out at the games. I need to take him this year and go old school the way we used to.