Category: College Football Cocktails

2022 Notre Dame deserves a cocktail that’s ice cream, Pop Rocks and booze

It’s a Dippin’ Dots Irish coffee affogato. Why did I need Clemson-Notre Dame to figure this out?

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go for Marcus Freeman. He was the common-sense choice to lead post-Brian Kelly Notre Dame; a successful coordinator and rising prospect whose players loved him. He was supposed to carry on the features of Kelly’s success without any of the bugs that came with Kelly’s interactions with other human beings.

Instead, a team that started the season ranked fifth in the nation is 5-3. Freeman has lost at home to both Marshall and Stanford, neither of whom currently has a winning record and each of whom were at least 16-point underdogs. While that ship has righted itself slightly thanks to a 41-24 win over a ranked Syracuse team, stormy waters remain with a looming home date against No. 4 Clemson.

And also that game will be broadcast head-to-head against Alabama-LSU, Texas-Kansas State and even a Wake Forest-NC State game that’s more compelling on paper. So let’s drink about it.

This week’s cocktail was originally penciled in as a Irish Trash Can — a greenish beverage with caffeine and something like three shots per 12 ounces and something potent and weird enough to get us through the inherent insufferability of a prime time Notre Dame broadcast. But then the Irish started losing and the prospect of them being shot into orbit by a good, not great Clemson team had to be factored into the equation.

In honor of that, I pivoted. With the help of Tyler Nettuno I identified Dippin’ Dots as the proper tribute to a possible space-racing, seeing as they are the ice cream of the future and all. And since Notre Dame meshes easily with Irish coffee — and because I have all those ingredients at hand compared to the blue curacao and Red Bull necessary for the Trash Can — we’re gonna make this thing an affogato.

The Fighting Irish Launchpad Affogato

  • 6 oz. warm coffee
  • 1 oz Keeper’s Heart Irish + American whiskey
  • 1 oz. Irish cream
  • one pack, Dippin’ Dots (dealer’s choice on the flavor, since finding these things isn’t exactly easy to begin with)

An affogato is generally a scoop of plain ice cream topped with a shot of espresso. That doesn’t necessarily make it a drink, but dousing it with a full Irish coffee? Yeah, that’s a better fit.

The Dippin’ Dots work better in that regard, turning this from a float to a boozy, cold boba tea, in a way. Only I wasn’t able to find Dippin’ Dots because I don’t live at a baseball stadium or amusement park. The closest I could find was “Ittibitz,” which exist in unexplainably large quantities at my local Woodman’s but only in a what’s clearly a leftover pallet of Fourth of July “Red, White & Pop!” flavor.

It’s currently November 3 as of writing, which does leave lingering concerns about their freshness. Then again, every single Dippin’ Dot was originally manufactured in 1976 and we’re still chugging through those, so it’s probably a moot point.

The drink itself looks like someone dumped a bunch of patriotic confetti into a puddle. Some of the bits float and some of them sink but they all retain their aquarium gravel artificial color so … that’s fun.

Fortunately the drink tastes pretty good — possibly because it’s cream liqueur and ice cream(-adjacent balls of dubious origin) and coffee and whiskey, four things that all work exceptionally well on their own. It’s sweet but not overpoweringly so and while I don’t think it stands up on its own it holds up as a dessert cocktail.

Dippin’ Dots and booze work pretty nicely together, adding a little unique texture to a creamy drink. All the not-Pop Rocks of the ice cream linger until the last sip, too — I assumed they would have been washed out in the coffee/booze — so you get a nice fizzy finish. All in all the stupidity-to-quality ratio of this drink makes it a net win.

Damn. Now I’ve gotta find real Dippin’ Dots for the next Notre Dame game.

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UMass – New Mexico State is the dumbest football game in the world. We’ve got a drink for that

In honor of UMass-NMSU, I take all the worst things from my beer fridge and combine them into one surprisingly tolerable drink.

 

The worst game of the FBS schedule is upon us. Massachusetts and New Mexico State are about to wage war.

The two independents were left with little choice but to schedule home-and-homes with each other. It’s not like teams are clamoring to make road trips to Amherst or Las Cruces. Each provides the other with valuable oxygen as they attempt to pry some breathing room from the very depths of Division I college football.

In honor of this game, I’m going to use all the worst things in my beer fridge. My worst beer? Capital Brewery’s Lake House lager. It’s a light beer that was never very good, but lately Capital’s entire operation has taken a nosedive, so it’s gone from below average to *awful.* The worst liquor in my freezer? Wild Cherry Stolichnaya.

Shut up, I know.

How are we gonna pair those? With a classic summer-day-at-the-lake mix we called “Skippy” but you might know as a hop, skip and go naked. It’s basically just beer, vodka and lemonade. But since I’ve got some stuff lying around, I’m gonna add an extra step to the process and see what we get.

The goal is to turn two terrible base ingredients into something better. Welp, let’s see if I end up poisoning myself again.

The UMass-New Mexico State Disaster Bowl

  • 2 12-ounce light beers
  • 3 oz, whatever terrible vodka you have lying around (flavored or otherwise)
  • lemonade mix
  • one 8 oz Little Hug fruit barrel drink (fruit punch)

Mix all your ingredients together in a vessel capable of holding them all along with your shame at making this in the first place/acknowledging UMass as a football program. I used a dog bowl, but with the lingering pride to at least wash it thoroughly first. It belonged to my old pit mix Rainey, who I once saw casually eat an entire wasp nest on a walk.

Spiritually, this is the right attitude to have for UMass-NMSU. Stir up that lemonade mix thoroughly or else it’s going to look like a vengeful tree sprinkled pollen in your beer.

The end result is more than the sum of its parts. The cheap beer blends nicely with the lemonade. The wild cherry Stoli, bought a decade ago from a $5 bargain bin, normally overpowers anything it’s mixed with and makes it taste like cough medicine. Here, it blends with the fruit punch you loved as a child and haven’t thought about in a decade so it doesn’t really make an appearance.

It tastes sweet and extremely drinkable. It’s beer and liquor and sugar substitutes and it’s got a little fizz. I shouldn’t be super surprised — Skippy is a tried-and-true staple despite its objectively weird ingredients — but this actually worked out. I kinda regret putting this in a dog bowl. It’d probably be pretty good over ice.

Actually wait hold on lemme get a ladle.

OK yeah I was mistaken. This is somehow worse. Confining it to a small space appears to have angered the beverage.

Still, this is better than it should be. Does this mean Saturday’s least anticipated FBS-FBS matchup is going to rise to the occasion? I mean, maybe! These two combined for 71 points when they played last season, so anything’s possible, right?

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Let’s drink a big dumb stupid Bayou mess in honor of Brian Kelly and LSU-Ole Miss

A Brian Kelly iced tea is booze and embarrassment, topped with cola, served over ice.

In my quest to create a special cocktail for every week of the 2022 college football season, I expected to make some pretty good drinks. I also expected to make some terrible ones.

I haven’t tried this week’s recipe before writing this introduction, but I am expecting it to fall firmly into the latter. But for good reason. It’s a Brian Kelly cocktail, so in its essence, it needs to be firmly unlikable, moderately embarrassing and ultimately look better on paper than in execution. And if I die in service of it, well …

Anywhoodles, Kelly’s LSU team is playing Ole Miss in Kelly’s latest opportunity to ruin football for someone else. These are two schools with a wonderful and, frankly, beautiful tailgating tradition, and I am going to try to capture parts of it while mostly ruining things as a whole.

Let’s see what we’ve got in store:

The Brian Kelly Sweet Tea:

  • 0.75 oz honeysuckle vodka
  • 0.75 oz Bayou satsuma (orange) rum
  • 0.75 oz Irish cream
  • 0.75 oz gin
  • 0.75 oz tequila
  • topped with cola

You know what no one says? “This Long Island iced tea could be creamier.” And yet, here we are, because jumping headfirst into a bad idea is endemic to both Kelly and Ole Miss’s football program as a whole (if you have facts otherwise, email compliance@olemiss.edu. If not, please don’t slander the young men).

The Bayou satsuma orange rum is for, obviously, LSU. The vodka — it was supposed to be Cathead or at least a honeysuckle vodka, but neither are readily available in the great state of Wisconsin — is the Mississippi end. The Irish cream is for Kelly. The gin and tequila are because, ostensibly, this is a LIIT and that’s what goes in there. Since I have no interest in this curdling before it can even get to my stomach, we’re gonna pass on the lemon juice and, huh, turns out I’m out of triple sec, so that’s out too.

How’s it taste? Like alcohol. I usually make all my home cocktail doubles because I’m a lazy man and don’t want to walk to the kitchen twice. But since that would be a five-shot beverage and I value my kidneys (sort of, shoot me an offer), no, we’ll stick with the single.

The cream, as expected, curdles even without fresh citrus. It settles grimly throughout the glass, but after multiple rounds with Coffee-mate/soda cocktails this is no longer a deterrent. What *is* is the sheer amount of alcoholic burn that chases away a drink that, somehow, hangs on to the creamsicle foundation of its ingredients. Had I made this with just the satsuma rum, Irish cream and cola I think it’d be pretty good. But it also wouldn’t get me to punch a cardboard cutout of the Golden Girls after one, so if you’re watching LSU-Ole Miss there’s value on going whole hog here.

Unsurprisingly, it gets better as you drink more, again alluding to the fact this is roughly six ounces of booze topped with cola. I don’t hate it, but I also don’t particularly like it. Maybe you’ll have better luck.

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The Nebraska Red Beer Bloody Mary: a drink no one asked for for a rivalry no one asked for

I tried to turn Nebraska’s Red Beer into a bloody Mary-like boilermaker. I urge you not to make the same mistake I did.

Nebraska and Rutgers play Friday. For two more years, this will be the furthest-flung conference game in the Big Ten.

Soon, USC and UCLA will arrive, making a trip merely halfway across the country seem quaint. They’ll also bring a couple of rising programs with them, which Nebraska and Rutgers most certainly are not.

The last time either was *actually* bowl eligible was 2016 (Rutgers, a 5-7 team, played in last year’s Gator Bowl due to Covid. Of course they lost by four touchdowns). The Cornhuskers’ attempt to bring back a homegrown hero from their glory days flamed out when Scott Frost went 16-31 and was fired in September. The Scarlet Knights’ attempt to bring back a homegrown hero from their glory days has currently resulted in an 11-16 record for Greg Schiano, which is worth a shrug and a “good enough,” if nothing else.

Fortunately, Lincoln has just the thing to carry it through the early kickoffs endemic to a bad team. Red beer is a cheap lager — generally Busch or Busch Light — mixed with tomato juice or bloody Mary mix. And in honor of a conference game no one asked for, we’re gonna make some booze adjustments no one asked for.

And yes, it’s gonna suck.

The Nebraska Red Beer Bloody Mary

  • 1 can, Miller High Life
  • 1.5 oz., Community Spirits Co. vodka (in a shot glass
  • 3 oz., Zing Zang bloody Mary mix
  • one dash celery salt

In theory, this should be taken like a Boilermaker. You get your beer, add the red Mary mix, then toss a little celery salt on top because that makes anything bloody Mary related taste better. Then you drop your shot of vodka in and, bing bong, delicious early morning tailgating drink.

Only, no.

My first impression was … it’s not bad? The sweetness of the Zing Zang covered up the sting of the vodka or the grain of the High Life.

This did not last. Friends, this drink kicked my ass the moment it slipped past my esophagus. My stomach immediately shot up the blinking orange “PROBLEM” light in my brain, as though I’d just mistaken a bag of moth balls for marshmallows. I can only describe the feeling — which, I must note, came after three gulps and just SECONDS into the drink — as a full body cramp. My skeleton, enraged, was trying to separate itself from my nervous system. My brain, fully aware of its culpability in this crime, shut down and feigned innocence. Drinking this knocked a full year of algebra out of my consciousness.

I needed a five minute break after my first chug. When I came back I had a drink that looked like someone had indiscriminately fired a shotgun into a small, muddy puddle filled with fish. The smell reflected this. Holy geez, it smells like death.

My head did not like this one bit. It felt like my brain was yelling at me and, I swear to god, I could hear this drink whispering things about my family. My stomach, seething in the role it has been forced to play, was simply biding its time until it could turn this concoction into a scalding cauldron of regret.

“Heh,” I thought to myself. “Too late.”

A second sip produced more of the same. First sweet, then tolerable, then poison. Another regrettable decision, only this time I’ve broken out in a sweat. It was 55 degrees in my basement. I was wearing a t-shirt.

For the first time in this series, I tapped out without finishing a drink. I was going to make this a double session and replace the vodka with whiskey to give it a Purdue theme, but no. I wanted to wake up Friday morning. I have too much to live for.

Still, if you’re looking for a faithful reproduction of the Nebraska-Rutgers rivalry, here you go. 10/10, no notes.

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In honor of the Brown-Rhode Island game, let’s drink two beautiful Ocean State messes

Brown plays Rhode Island this weekend. Let’s celebrate the greatest local cuisine in America with coffee milk-based booze.

For decades, Brown versus Rhode Island was the only game in town. The smallest state in the nation only had two Division I schools with football programs. Both competed at the I-AA/FCS level. Neither was especially competitive.

Still, these games, forgive the parlance, slapped. Right around the start of the millennium the Ivy League Bears, under the guidance of Phil Estes (who succeeded a Mark Whipple-Don Brown combination, somehow) developed into one of the most exciting teams in the country. Not AA football; anywhere.

In 1998, Brown out-slugged Penn 58-51 in a game that featured 58 (fifty-eight!) fourth-quarter points. The 1999 team won the Ivy League title behind current head coach James Perry, Mike Malan and Steven Campbell. The 2000 team scored at least 28 points in every game.

But the best game in that stretch may have been a 2001 showdown with then-No. 9 Rhode Island where Bears wideout Chas Gessner had 269 receiving yards and three touchdowns and still lost. Rhody ran for 309 yards. Brown passed for 492. It was like watching Ron Dayne’s Wisconsin play Michael Crabtree’s Texas Tech, only everyone kinda sucked at football. It was glorious.

In honor of the quaintest in-state rivalry in college football — Brown season tickets cost $40 for five games in 2001 and came with $20 in concessions vouchers and a long-sleeved tee! — we’re going to drink one of Rhode Island’s proudest traditions.

If you know someone from Rhode Island — or, most likely, are from Rhode Island, since we tend not to leave our motherland; maybe we’ll get to Connecticut or even New Hampshire, but roughly 95 percent of us remain tethered to New England in order to preserve our superiority complex over the rest of the nation — you’re familiar with our extremely localized cuisine.

It’s mostly, for lack of a better word, garbage. Hot weiners. Pizza strips. Clam cakes. Frozen lemonade. Subsisting on any of it for more than a few days at a time should make you ineligible for health insurance.

It is also incredible. Calvitto’s strips, a couple of weiners from Olneyville’s New York System and a Del’s is capable of powering you through any test the world can drop at your feet. So in honor of that cuisine, we’re gonna booze up the official state drink of Rhode Island: coffee milk.

The key ingredient in coffee milk is a syrup endemic to the Ocean State, typically made by either Autocrat (great) or Eclipse (… fine). If you can’t buy it, you can make it — here’s a good-enough looking recipe. Fortunately, I have a backlog of Autocrat that made the trip to the Midwest alongside me, just waiting for a moment like this.

Today we’re making two drinks. Let’s keep it simple for the first. Coffee milk in a white Russian is a no-brainer — it’s basically got all the ingredients anyway. Let’s see if a little taste of Rhody kicks it up a notch.

In honor of Karl Dorrell, I made a proud Colorado tradition worse

I took a classic Colorado tradition and made it worse. Just like Karl Dorrell.

It was a very strange choice when Colorado football hired Karl Dorrell as head coach in 2020. Sure, he’d taken UCLA to 10 wins 15 years earlier, but his lone college experience since being dismissed in Los Angeles was as the architect of a thoroughly unwatchable 2014 Vanderbilt offense. That group scored fewer points than all but eight other FBS schools that year.

It kinda worked out! The Buffaloes won four games in a COVID-19 shortened 2020 season and cracked the top 25. However, he’s 4-13 since that 4-0 start, hasn’t won a game in 2022 and currently boasts a recruiting class sandwiched between Rutgers and coach-less Nebraska at the tail end of the composite top 50.

This, understandably, has led to discussions about his job security. This week, athletic director Rick George effectively threw water on any kindling underneath Dorrell’s seat.

It’s rare for an official team statement to simply say, “Yes, we know we suck, but we don’t plan to do anything about it,” but it makes sense. There’s little value to firing a coach in September unless you really, truly cannot stand them any longer (shoutout to Scott Frost and Herm Edwards!). Dorrell’s gonna have at least until the end of the season to figure this out, which history suggests he probably will not.

So, bad news, Colorado fans: Your team isn’t going to get much better. But at least we can mix you up something nice to help you cope with a sixth straight season with five wins or fewer.

The regular Colorado Bulldog looks a lot like a white Russian, only with Coke mixed in:

  • 1.5 oz vodka
  • 1.5 oz coffee liqueur
  • 1.5 oz cream or milk
  • 3 oz Coke

I made one, and it’s great. It tastes a little lighter than a white Russian and with distinct “coffee ice cream Coke float” vibes.

But you can find that anywhere, so let’s mess it up a bit. I’m gonna keep the vodka, cola and milk intact. I’m also gonna make a few additions:

  • 1.5 oz Javelin vodka — Javelin is a pretty good vodka that donates 100 percent of proceeds to Razom, a non-profit humanitarian charity in Ukraine.
  • 3 oz Pabst hard coffee
  • 3 oz Diet Coke
  • 1 splash, cream
  • 1 maraschino cherry, for fanciness

In theory this will give the drink a little more cherry vanilla vibe. That has nothing to do with Colorado or UCLA. But I’m the one drinking it, and I have the palate of a toddler, so there you go.

Unfortunately, this variant is too true to the Karl Dorrell formula. My tweaking has made a good thing worse. Not significantly so, but the creamy, float-y goodness of the original disappears thanks to the thinner hard coffee. The salted caramel flavor of the hard coffee, surprisingly, gives the whole thing a bit of a peanut butter taste. Should’ve gone with unflavored!

It’s not bad, though; in fact, it’s a perfectly passable cocktail. It feels like some kind of sponsored drink Jon Taffer shoehorns into a bar rescue while star struck doofuses grit their teeth and tell Spike TV how much they like it. It’s certainly not as good as the original formula, which if nothing else is authentic to Buffalo football.

So there you have it. Either the Karl Dorrell or Colorado Failure Juice. I haven’t decided on a name yet. Give it a try if you want something that sounds good on paper but fails to execute despite your high hopes.

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The Tropical Pepper might be better than Texas A&M-Miami deserves

Dr. Pepper. Rum. Vodka. Pineapple. Coconut… coffee creamer? Well, if it works, it works.

Texas A&M is coming off a home loss to Appalachian State and spent the last week cease-and-desisting any unauthorized videos of its deeply uncomfortable yell practices. If any fanbase in the nation could use a drink, it’s the Aggies.

The Aggies’ shot at redemption comes in Week 3, where they’ll host 13th-ranked Miami and potential first-round quarterback Tyler Van Dyke. The Hurricanes have won their first two games by an aggregate score of 100-20, but that was over Bethune-Cookman and Southern Mississippi. This makes things a little less impressive.

Still, Miami-Texas A&M is one of only two games between ranked opponents in Week 3. And since the other involves BYU and I’m not yet ready to figure out a cocktail for the Cougars, well, let’s make something boozy for the confluence of Aggies and Hurricanes.

Dr. Pepper may be a Waco product, but I’m fine associating it with all things Texas rather than Baylor. Miami is the southernmost major U.S. city in the contiguous 48 states. Since this is a game of “close enough” let’s use that as an excuse to incorporate tropical flavors into an ice cold beverage capable of carrying you through triumphant wins and upset losses.

The Tropical Pepper:

  • 1.5 oz pineapple rum
  • 1.5 oz vodka
  • 9 oz Dr. Pepper
  • one splash, Coconut Creme Coffee-Mate
  • one lime wedge (optional, not seen here because what I thought were limes in my kitchen were actually granny smith apples)

I used some garbage rum that had been lingering in my freezer. I also used some extremely cool vodka. Javelin Vodka has pledged 100 percent of its proceeds to Razom, a charitable organization that has raised more than $62 million in humanitarian aid for Ukraine.

I’m looking forward to giving Javelin a proper review later on, but I will say it blends great here. I tipped in entirely too much, and this never truly felt overpowering or burned.

Making the drink is simple enough. Add ice, then booze, then creamer and top with soda. Give it a stir, and it’s ready to go.

The end result tastes a little like a bushwhacker with piña colada undertones (and with the added benefit of being several factors easier to make). The carbonation of the Dr. Pepper keeps the drink crisp and the creamer, despite creating an unsettling effect in the glass — I suggest using an opaque cup, if possible — helps erase the fact that my efforts counting out seconds while pouring vodka in no way shape or form reflect an accurate pour.

I initially bristled when I first tried this but it gets better as it goes on in a way that isn’t related to the three shots of liquor within. It’s got a nice blend of flavors and even the splash of Coffee-Mate stays muted. As a mixed drink this works, even if it’s an ungodly amount of sugar if you’re going with the full-blood versions of the creamer and soda.

So far, this is my favorite creation — though, fair play, it’s only Week 3 and the previous two drinks were a moonshine bomb and a Fireball old fashioned. It’s dangerous, though, thanks to both the potency of the booze and the sugar involved and how easy it is to drink. Approach it with caution.

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Washington State-Wisconsin deserves proper tribute to the gameday drinking gods

A proper cocktail for the drunkest possible Rose Bowl matchup. The best of Pullman and Madison in one drink.

Washington State vs. Wisconsin isn’t just an early season Power 5 matchup. It’s a preview of the drunkest possible Rose Bowl.

The Cougars travel to Madison in Week 2, where they’ll be greeted by a city eager to offer Bloody Marys at 6 a.m. on a weekday, even if they’re wearing business attire. There is no state in the union that drinks quite like Wisconsin, where bars outnumber supermarkets on roughly a 3:1 basis (you can also buy both liquor and beer at these supermarkets. I personally recommend Woodman’s, whose alcohol selection is roughly the size of the local grocer I grew up with back in Rhode Island).

The eastern side of Washington isn’t known for its dry counties though. Through a similar combination of bitter winters and few pro sports alternatives nearby, Pullman can at least suggest it’s in the same league as Wisconsin’s state capital. After all, it’s the city that gave us this glorious GIF:

This was not an isolated incident. I asked our resident Washington State expert Brian Floyd what percentage of the Cougars’ tailgating fanbase incorporates Fireball in some capacity to their gameday drinking and he clocked it at “7 in 10.” Based on his further estimate of “20 percent” of the folks at Martin Stadium sneaking to-go drinks into the venue, there’s roughly a one-in-seven chance that the fan next to you at a Wazzu game has Fireball on their person at kickoff.

Wonderful.

In honor of two college towns that take full advantage of bulky coats and disinterested stadium security guards, I’ve decided to combine the best of both worlds. Behold, the Wazzu-Wisco Fireball Old Fashioned.

The Fireball is because, well, see above. You’ve gotta stay warm on gameday, and few things put on your inside coat like cinnamon whiskey (blackberry brandy, of course, is a wonderful alternative). The old fashioned is a Wisconsin specialty, made sweet and with brandy — typically Korbel, the brand Badger fans apocryphally drank Los Angeles dry of at the 1994 Rose Bowl — in place of whiskey.

Here’s how you can marry Pullman and Madison and give yourself a sweet but spiced beverage that’ll go down easy before a 2:30 or 12:30 local time kickoff.

This recipe makes a double. It’s an involved drink. It requires multiple steps. It’s economical to make this a double. Don’t judge me just because I value your time.

  • two orange slices
  • two or three maraschino cherries
  • two or three packets of Splenda (or sugar, or stevia, whatever)
  • four dashes, Angostura bitters
  • 3 oz. Fireball flavored whisky
  • 9 oz., 7up or Sprite or soda water
  • ice

Put the oranges, cherries, sugar/sugar-adjacent materials and bitters in one big glass. Add a little bit of the soda, then muddle it. I use a big spoon because buying a muddler would put me among a weird group of cocktail dads and I’m not ready to say that about myself yet. I remain, for most intents and purposes, a two-step drink guy, dammit. I’m not fancy.

Once you’ve got a delicious sweet mashed syrup at the bottom of your glass, add your ice, then Fireball, then soda. Give it a big stir. Add a couple cherries and an orange slice on a tiny pirate sword for a garnish if you’re feeling fancy or just want the extra sugar.

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If the Backyard Brawl were a cocktail, it’d definitely burn all the way down

Mountain Dew, moonshine and a little bit of fire in honor of Pittsburgh-West Virginia renewing their hate vows.

College football is back.

Technically, it’s been back for a few days. While Week 0 gave us a spectacular Scott Frost meltdown and performances from Illinois and Vanderbilt that bordered on “hopeful,” it was a gas station hot dog compared to the seven-course meals that will follow. Week 1 has its share of throwaway games, but also plays host to a smattering of top-25 matchups (No. 11 Oregon vs. No. 3 Georgia, No. 23 Cincinnati vs. No. 19 Arkansas and No. 5 Notre Dame vs. No. 2 Ohio State).

It also features the revival of one of the greatest rivalries in the sport. Pittsburgh and West Virginia have met in the Backyard Brawl 104 times. They haven’t seen each other on the gridiron since realignment separated the neighboring(ish) schools in 2012. The dulcet tones of “Take Me Home (Country Roads)” are set to return to Heinz, sigh, Acrisure Stadium, leaving us with not only a great football game but also a stellar excuse to drink on a Thursday.

So let’s drink on a Thursday. And let’s make up a drink that pairs perfectly with Monongahela-region hate.

The Ignited Couch Bomb

Named for the West Virginia tradition of celebrating around incendiary furniture, I tried to combine the best of West Virginia and Western Pennsylvania in the worst possible way.

Ingredients:

  • 1.5 oz moonshine
  • 6 oz, Mountain Dew
  • fire (optional)

Mountain Dew is the unofficial state drink of West Virginia. If you try looking up “What do they drink most in WV?” you’ll get some entries about how the state has a mean gin and tonic game. While I won’t dispute you can get some top quality quinine down there, that’s Mountain Dew country kiiiiiiiid. I’m not about to sip something with a lime wedge before watching Pitt and West Virginia renew their hate vows.

So there’s our base. I only had cans, which adds a layer of inauthenticity to my proceedings. If you want the true, date night at Cabela’s experience of both Western Pennsylvania and the Mountain State, you’d bring a 16.9 ounce bottle for proper dip disposal.

The moonshine is something called “American XXX Born,” which I have no affinity towards. It was pulled out of the bargain cart at Woodman’s as a $4.99 fifth I could earmark for stupid experiments like this. It is clear, appears to have been aged roughly 15 minutes inside the trunk of a Pontiac Fiero and is generally a bad decision.

But what is college football if not a 150-year tradition of bad decisions? To compound that, let’s introduce fire to the equation. Lighting shots is basically why we can’t find Bacardi 151 anymore, and it’s an immensely stupid way to drink. Without it, however, this is simply a “couch bomb” and, thus, an insult to the good people of Morgantown.

Fortunately, mine only kinda ignited — it’s only (?) 103 proof — so my danger was merely from the poison within. The good news is, it tastes kinda… good? It went down easier than expected and packed the punch necessary to watch a post-Kenny Pickett Pitt return to mediocrity.

It’s maybe not a great “Thursday night, I have to work tomorrow” drink. But for a Saturday night when you’ve got to get into the stadium fast and need to put on that inside coat, yep, that’ll work.

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