Two of the many Southern Belles who helped heat up Hotlanta. Photo by Cory McCartney

By Cory McCartney

Twenty seven hours before the SEC championship game, Linda and Rob Luetjen wheeled their 30-foot motor home through the streets of Atlanta following a four-hour drive from Gainesville and parked it in the shadow of Phillips Arena, a mere 100 yards from the Georgia Dome, where their Florida Gators would take on Arkansas.

They wanted to beat the rush, and even snagged a "prime" spot that was uncomfortably close to some very busy railroad tracks that one of their fellow tailgaters informed me "Has like a train every 10 minutes right around 5 a.m." But as the Luetjens and I stood surveying the lot and the two adjoining parking areas, the main topic of conversation wasn't the Gators' chances of making the national title game or if they could slow down the Razorbacks' dominant running back Darren McFadden -- it was a simple question: where in the world was everybody?

"We thought it would be so crowded," Rob Luetjen said, looking across a lot that was less than 1/3 full three hours before game time. "I didn't know it would be like this."

That made two of us.

So was this it? Where was the buzz? Where was the hype surrounding a game with BCS title game implications? Was this game, played smack dab in downtown Atlanta, killing the tailgating vibe that comes to define 119 Division I-A college campuses throughout the fall? Translation: where was the party?

I left the Luetjens feeling like the Griswolds parking in the desolate WallyWorld lot and couldn't shake one nagging thought: Why in the world did the Luetjens parked right next to railroad tracks -- in an empty lot no less? But I had more pressing matters, like seeing how they do things in the biggest SEC party of the year, if I could find it.

Searching for answers, I found them in the form of Malcom Toure, who was sitting on a lifeguard-esque chair with "Ask Me!" painted on the side. One of the Dome's guest service specialists, Toure led me in the right direction for the hot tailgating spots -- it appeared the Luetjens found themselves on the wrong side of the tracks -- and even let me in on the No. 1 question that everybody had been asking him: who is going to win the game? His answer: "The better team," Tour said smiling.

Walking past the Dome, and to where Toure told me I'd find the tailgate scene I was after, I struck up a conversation with Howard Hunter, the father of a Gators cheerleader, who was wearing a blue Florida shirt -- and a gold Florida State hat. "[People keep asking] am I confused or something?" Hunter said, but then he added: "I don't want to tell them, but this hat has some mojo going for Florida: the Gators are 10-0 when I wear it, including a win over my Seminoles [this year]."

As we walked down a ramp that led to the parking lots directly outside the Georgia Dome, Hunter began telling me a story about a Red Grange football camp he had attended in 1966 where his counselor was Steve Spurrier, who would win the Heisman the following fall. But as enthralled as I was over Hunter's encounter with a young Ol' Ball Coach, he lost me the second I saw the lots filled with RVs, grills, tailgaters playing cornhole and hillbilly horseshoes -- and enough Southern Belles to heat up Hotlanta.