by Ryan McGee
The domain of the Tigers stretches all the way to Omaha.
If you’ve never been to the College World Series (and if you haven’t that’s a shame), let me let you in on a little secret about the good people of Omaha:
They love ‘em some LSU.
Don’t get me wrong, every visiting team and fan receives plenty of great Midwestern hospitality and saturated fat. But for two weeks each summer, Big Red country turns purple and gold.
“It’s not just because they are here playing this year,” says Dawn Ream, P.R. manager of the Henry Doorly Zoo, which sits just outside the right field fence of Rosenblatt Stadium. “Our parking lot stays packed with LSU fans whether their team is actually here or not. Just look out there today.”
By 10:00 am Wednesday morning, there was already a pillar of white smoke rising from behind the throng of golden-clad fans standing in line for general admission tickets. Some dude named Beaux was cooking steak, brats and some sort of red concoction that looked like it was full of those things Jabba the Hut snacked on in Return of the Jedi.
Omaha city officials and CWS of Omaha Inc. also dance to the Tiger Rag, but not just because of the red gumbo or the purple and gold Mardi Gras beads. They love the Bayou Bengals because of a whole different color.
Green.
LSU fans throw money around like Washington lobbyists. They book their rooms a year in advance and make the two-day road trip no matter how much gas costs. On Monday night, at the Harrah’s across the river, they outnumbered everyone else 3-to-1. And the outside vendors say it’s not even that close when it comes to apparel sales.
“Texas, Miami and Florida State are always good sellers,” says a guy named Lon who was hocking what looked to be totally illegal t-shirts on 13th Street. “But they only sell when they are in town. LSU stuff sells even if they suck.”
That doesn’t happen very often. Since 1986 they’ve reached Omaha fourteen times and won five rings.
So it should have been no surprise, when LSU began to rally in the bottom of the ninth in Tuesday’s elimination game against Rice, their adopted citizens in Omaha shed their façade of impartiality and began openly rooting for the Tigers. When DH Blake Dean raked a 3-run double to win the game, The Blatt erupted with a Baton Rouge kind of thunder.
At Creighton University’s Jim Hendry Field, Stanford began their BP session when Rice was up 5-0 in the 7th. When equipment manager Matt Riston shouted that LSU had won, the Cardinal players howled in disbelief.
1,600 miles away in Tampa, Hendry’s current team, the Cubs, cheered for their general manager’s good friend, LSU skipper Paul Maineiri, a pep rally led by Kerry Wood.
But the loudest ovations didn’t come from a ballpark at all. They were heard in downtown Omaha, in the restaurants, shops, bars, the zoo and even City Hall.
Hold That Ti-ger … or at least his hotel reservation.
