If you grew up in South Carolina as I did, you pulled from Carolina or Clemson. Now that I live in Florida, I see the same kind of rivalry that exists here between Florida, Florida State and Miami.

I have spoken in every state in the union and attended football games in over half of them. Never did I witness the kind of intensity that existed in a Carolina-Clemson rivalry. South Carolina's huge upset this year in Clemson only served to intensify the bitter battle between the two schools.

Since you had to take sides, I was a Carolina fan like my uncle, Eli Mack. My brother Fred was a Clemson fan like my other uncle, Arthur Mack. I remember when Fred married Jan Jernigan. He knelt at the alter and there on the bottom of his shoes were two tiger paws, bringing laughter to those assembled.

For years, I gave USC a scholarship. Noble as that sounds, the main reason I was a good-giver was I wanted 50-yard line tickets and a good parking space at the games, both of which were guaranteed with a nice donation. Even after I moved to Florida in 1989, I sent money north until I came to my senses.

One of the favorite things I did when I went to Carolina games was to tailgate. Good tailgating is a ritual that I have to believe was born in the south. Yankees think they know how to tailgate. Only us rednecks do it right.

We would routinely feed 75-100 people out of the back of my old pickup truck. We would grill steaks. I made some of the best barbeque spare ribs that you have ever put in your mouth (the key is to boil them first to make them tender).

My favorite tailgate meal was one that required only a plate. It was all finger food. We called it a Beaufort Stew. I would take my huge cooker to the parking lot in the shadows of Williams-Brice Stadium. We filled the cooker with water and my secret ingredients that shall remain a family secret.

Next, you would add Polish kielbasa sausage. Let it boil until the water was sufficiently marinated with the oils from the sausage. Next, throw in fresh corn on the cob, preferably from central Florida. Once the corn is done, toss in fresh Carolina shrimp, but be careful not to over-cook the shrimp. I always used a basket to dip the shrimp in for a couple of minutes and then pull them just as they were turning pink.

Throw it all into a serving tray and let people eat till their heart's content. This is how I managed to propel my weight to 305 pounds. It used to be a ten minute hike around me. I'd get my shoes shined and have to take the guy's word for it. Thanks to a gastric by-pass, I'm no longer 305 and can no longer eat like this, but those were some of my fondest memories.

Nothing was more fun that a Saturday afternoon at Williams-Brice Stadium. Back in those days, we did not have the Steve Spurrier's or Lou Holtz's of the world. We had guys named Sparky Woods. We went to Carolina games to see big time football alright, but most of it was played by the Nebraska's and Michigan's and Notre Dame's of the world that came in to kick us around a bit.

I really miss Carolina sports and tailgating. It was such an integral part of my life when I live in South Carolina. After moving to Florida, I became a Steve Spurrier fan. I love this guy's creativity and offensive genius. I'm thrilled that Carolina landed him. It may take him a while, but I expect that Steve Spurrier will build Carolina into the winner that their fans have longed for over the years.