Who is this rogue, this “Love Without Nagel”? Why does he lighten our days with prose, then vanish into the ether? Fear not, for LWN has returned.

You all remember the premise of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”, right? Well, take out the drugs, the pimping, and the motorcycle race, and that’s what we have here. Yes, TMC has dispatched ace correspondent Love Without Nagel to college campuses across the country, hoping that he’ll meet his editorial deadlines and not bankrupt the website with his expense accounts. Our first such report features LWN reporting from a little city on I-75, about 30 miles north of Ocala, as he looks back fondly at a trip to Gaines-Vegas and The Swamp. More after the jump.

So my buddy Bish called, I answered the phone, and he said the three most wonderful words in the world “Vegas baby, Vegas.” With that, our conversation ended and I was off to kiss up to the Sports Gal for a weekend romp. Anyone getting this?

Not so much folks. But I did make my fourth and possibly final trip to a place I now call “Gaines-Vegas.” Granted, through most of the year the quaint, quasi-city of Gainesville is your basic college town. Crappy, tiny airport? Check. Tons of overpriced off-campus housing constructed in under a year? Check, check. A “club” with an ironic name like “rehab”? Checkmate! A quick look at Gainesville by the numbers will prove my point, but there are some weekends where the lawlessness of a city becomes so apparent (at least, it does if you travel with a bunch of New Yorkers) that one must consider that they may have entered a worm hole and been transported to the city of ill repute during NBA all-star weekend.

Gainesville at a glance and by the numbers

Ranked #1 city in the country in 2007
Estimated population of 108,103
Originally inhabited by the Timucua Indians (Native Americans)
Known as “Tree City USA” due to the amount of deciduous trees.
Home to the University of Florida

Gaines-Vegas by the numbers
1 - Games attended
2 - Debit Cards accidentally swapped by Applebee’s waitress Jenn (Note the second “N”)
3 - Bars attended
4 - Morons running loose
5 - Number of brain cells I lost (in millions)
6 - Pitchers ordered, which led to an argument, and subsequently 6 ejections from 1 bar.

Other numbers-
1 - case of sleepwalking
1 - number of linen sets ruined
2 - pesky police officers
0 - charges filed
1000 - The number of dollars offered for 4 tickets.

The weekend began innocently enough, as friends got together in an interesting town to engage in the first “official” ‘Football At Gainesville’ weekend. What ended up transpiring can only be defined in some circles as “magical,” and in others as “horrifying”, and to some, simply actions of individuals who clearly should not be involved in society.

Those of us who have been to Gaines-Vegas know the drill. Many of us are jacks of all trades, meaning masters of none. We are brewers, non-profit workers, professors, IT guys and bankers. With brewing clearly being an asset to the weekend, it was determined we would “sample” a case of highly potent beers before heading out on the town.

Our first stop was a place called Jacks. One of my all time favorite bars in Gaines-Vegas. Jacks is not your typical hangout. It is a bar that seems to be entirely made of plywood. There is sharpie all over the walls, some of it quite sophomoric, some of it poetic such as the ‘Man from Barbass’ poem. Of course, the highlight was the multitude of numbers above the toilet that you can call for a good time.

After the annual pillage to Jacks dive bar, we stumbled over to a more reputable joint called Market Street. The main reason for doing this was because my one friend was to meet a girl. Is there anything smarter than meeting a girl on a quasi-blind date for the first time around 2 AM? I didn’t think so. My professor friend and beer enthusiast decided that buying six pitchers, one for each of us was a wise decision. After dispensing the beer, the waitstaff told us to leave. Then “assisted us” out. I guess it worked out better than if we had tried to “make it rain.” Perhaps we should have read some reviews from pubcrawler.com:

“This is the worst establishment I have ever been too, and I’ve been to a lot. The bar tenders need to pull the pool sticks out of their ass’ and learn some respect. I will never be at that place again, it is absolutely horrible. The bar tenders (if you can even call them that, more like ugly girls that couldn’t tell a beer from a virgin pina colada) are the worst I have ever seen. They most likely go home broke every night because I don’t know who in their right mind would tip them!”

After leaving, an interesting thing happened while we were sitting around discussing the night’s activities. We heard a knock at the door, and after yelling “come in”, one of Gaines-Vegas’ finest entered, to our surprise, and said, “No one cares how much you can pound,” then left. An odd night for sure.

Saturdays are my favorite days in Gaines-Vegas. The utter lack of lawlessness or paying no attention to the law is simply amazing. I have been other places where tailgating is king, such as Penn State, but in State College you are likely to get hit in the head and processed by the cops if walking down the road with beer. In Gaines-Vegas, we were simply told to empty our beer by a bike cop. Then we simply reached into our 1998-era cargo shorts for another.

After a brief stop at a tailgate, we found out my alma mater was holding their own against Penn State. We rushed to a quaint little pub called “Balls” to take in the game. To my surprise/astonishment I learned with glee that the UB Bulls have a more high powered offense than offensive genius Charlie Weis’ Notre Dame squad.

We then made our way to Ben Hill Griffen for the game. The beauty of this game is that we get the tickets for free, then pose as undergraduate students by presenting false identification and covered Indiana licenses to the ticket takers. Oddly enough, an Indiana operators license looks remarkably close to a UF card if you cover the top with your hand or the ticket.

I am not sure if it was the heat or the residual effects from the alcohol, but the first half was painful to watch. While everyone else was standing, I sat pondering my mortality. The good news for me is that state tax payers get hoodwinked into paying for stadium accessories such as gigantic live action video screens located in both end zones.

At one point it got so bad that I was hypnotized by the lower back tattoo of the co-ed in front of me. She had a set of wings on her lower back which was exposed by her tiny, tiny Tim Tebow jersey. I considered that she might have been an angel taking me to my final resting place. (A trashy angel perhaps, but what are you going to do?)

When the sun fell below my eye line in the grand coliseum, I became re-energized like some sort of reverse Superman who gains his power from the shade. Unlike me, the real superman showed himself on the field. The much ballyhooed QB Tim Tebow took his first meaningful start for the Gators and did not disappoint. He made only one mistake, throwing a pick that was converted into an immediate TD, outside of that Tebow and his gang of baby gators throttled the Vols.

The Gators kill with speed. They use the pass to set up the run, a hallmark of an Urban Meyer team. But unlike last year, this year’s Gators have a relatively balanced attack. In the Tennessee game the Gators ran the ball 46 times for 255 yards and it seemed everyone on the team got at least one carry. They only threw 19 times, but for 299. I don’t think they can repeat, but they ran circles around the Vols. UT, on the other hand, could only muster 37 yards on the ground, and with two losses already, perhaps the Vols want to see if Brent Schaffer is interested in transferring back.

Credit must be given to the retooled defense of Florida, which made Ainge and the Vols offense look like Danny Ainge was in charge. I don’t know exactly what Urban Meyer was thinking when he rubbed in the win, but it showed me that Florida is in fact a contender, again. I think the Gator express will run into trouble when they meet LSU in Baton Rouge.

After venturing to Gaines-Vegas for my fourth, and possibly final time, I realize how much fun it can be to travel to a college town. Beers are cheap, the women are, well, barely 21, and the fun can be endless. Sadly, on Monday Gaines-Vegas became Gainseville again, when police officers returned to work, the quaint-quasi-city returned to status quo, and “Don’t Tase Me Bro!” became a reality.