THE BATTLE OF SAN JACINTO STREET

Forget the Alamo and "remember the keg taps." Call it manifest destiny, Texas-Exes independence or what you will, but before every Longhorn football home game, there's a modern day land rush going on right down the street from Memorial Stadium. Tailgaters, not unlike the settlers of yesteryear, are converging on blacktopped frontiers in the hopes of staking a claim on one of the limited spaces in government parking lots along San Jacinto street. On the way to the game, did you ever wonder how all those people got there? Well before the tents go up, the kegs get tapped and the party gets started, the land must be claimed.

And since the public is not allowed to park in these government lots until after 6pm on Friday night, around 4pm that day, many eager tailgaters begin to circle the lots in their cars as government employees vacate the premises unaware that a massive game of musical chairs is being played all around them. As the 6 o'clock hour nears, the situation intensifies and State Troopers monitor the area to keep the peace. The cars must keep moving because there aren't any places to park on the surrounding streets. Some tailgaters have gotten smart and bring extra people to jump out of their cars to serve as human cones to reserve spots, but even then, a pack of pledges are still no match for a 1 ton truck. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, a bull horn explodes through the air like the cannon that started the Oklahoma land rush of the late 1800's and cars and people alike fill the parking lots like a shopping mall the day after Christmas.

After talking with some of these pup-tent pioneers, I learned that over the years the tailgaters have even developed a set of unwritten rules. There's a hierarchy among them and it's based mostly on tenure. Supposedly, the longer a tailgater has been setting up a camp in a certain spot, the more right he has to it. Squatters rights I guess. Some tailgaters work together to keep the status quo, sort of like the Teamsters. If a newcomer claims a space and the people around him don't recognize him as the guy that's usually there, his car will most likely get a visit from the neighborhood un-welcoming committee after he leaves for the night. We're not talking Tony Soprano here, but let's just say the offending party will find his tires a little short on air when he arrives the next day.

But if you're thinking that the chances of getting a spot in the lot are about as remote as scoring season tickets between the 20's, take heart, there's no need to call Steven Segal to break up this makeshift mob. In the end, Darwin still wins. For there is no honor among thieves and only the most persistent tailgaters will survive. So, next time you arrive at a tailgate just in time to down a cold one before the game, you might take a second to shake the hand of the guys who reserved the spot and put the tailgate together. You can bet they've been there for a while.

James Brown scoring to the back noise of a humming machine. Groups of campers at Pace Bend walking by to see the score.

See ya'll Saturday!

The tailgate usually gets a spot ON the East side of Robert Dedman. Keep your eyes open for a Direct TV satellite dish and you can't miss.

See you there.

NEWBS