Saturday, Nov. 22. Since the beginning of the year, most Yalies have marked their Moleskines with clever ways to wreak havoc on those dirty Cantabs on this glorious day. Given that I’ve always, Bulldog that I am, seen urination as a highway to possession, my concept of pwning Harvard is simply peeing on anything and everything Crimson. Yet the driving force of the Zach Fuhrer super-soak fest has been pulled out from under me. Alcohol. The same item that gives us the confidence to lick a girl’s face mid-grind relentlessly makes our bladders as weak as a Harvard mixer.

By prohibiting alcohol and U-Hauls from the tailgate and making all pre-gaming stop at kick-off, the Crimson Gestapo seems eager to prevent Yalies from enjoying a beautiful Saturday of Division IAA football. Fretting is foolish, however, as there are still several ways to get sloppy in Cambridge on Game Day 2008.

The salvia solution

Many people see the decriminalization of weed use in Massachusetts as a motivation to get high in the tailgate. While I’m not a resident blunt crusher, a tailgate resembling the Dave Matthews Band lot scene ill-fits Yalies not willing to show up to the Game clad in pink polos with popped collars blaring “Ants Marching” from their Nissan Xterras. If you’re looking to smoke something at the tailgate, why not opt for something a bit more exciting? Say, salvia.

Cambridge po-po can’t rain on your parade if you’re smoking a legal drug. And since your trip will only last about five minutes, you can smoke up several times within the two-hour grill fest. Who knows, you might even hallucinate an enjoyable tailgate.

Burying the handle

Of course, some people might prefer a soothing rum and coke to an unpredictable salvia trip. The obvious solution to drinking at the tailgate requires a shovel, a map and courage. All you have to do is bury a few handles on Friday night, paying careful attention to the burial spots, denoting the liquor locations on a treasure map of sorts. On Saturday morning, when all of your friends are settling for cheeseburgers, you’ll be kicking it with the Captain, preparing to let loose some urine all over some Harvard alums and their argyle sweater-vests.

The Epi spike

But bringing a shovel to Cambridge may prove a difficult task, provided that most of us will be utilizing our overhead space on the buses to store necessary prophylactics that we’ll need to safely F the S out of Harvard (i.e. something akin to what Stephen Hawking would wear in space). If you’re not equipped to bury alcohol, then you must store it in an armory of EpiPens.

A quick modification of an EpiPen will allow you to load each sucker up with approximately 0.3 mL of alcohol (leave a little epinephrine in the EpiPen for a pleasant adrenaline + grain alcohol combo). Then just reenact the Macaulay Culkin bee stinging scene from “My Girl,” whip out your Everclear loaded EpiPen and stab it in your thigh. Repeat that about forty times, and you’ll have yourself a little bit of a buzz working, and some tingling lower-body sensations.

Forget the “dildos”

My personal recommendation would be to forego the Game altogether and give the team some help by heading down to Providence and heckling Brown’s football team. That tailgate scene is bound to be more relaxed than the one in Cambridge, and the amount of a cappella concerts will be at a minimum, enabling you to sit back and enjoy the original version of “Stormy Weather” without the cheesy jazz voicings of the Harvard “Kroko-dildos.”

If you do head up to Cambridge and don’t want to go through the trouble of buying a hip flask, make sure that you have some viable alternatives for getting trashed at the game. Or, you can relive sophomore year of high school and just pretend you’re drunk.