The fun starts well before you get into the stadium. A couple of the participating schools have rented houses on 13th Street right outside Rosenblatt. After all, Eater Nation needs a place to plan their attack.

13th Street is also the epicenter of midwestern capitalism this week, absolutely jammed with places to buy souveniers and food. How over-the-top is the vending? Check this out...

If you look closely below the "Baseball, Beer, and BBQ," you can see... yep, those are stained glass windows. This church rents itself out every year for CWS week. Last year it was a bar. This year it's Famous Dave's. I think this is the only church Eric Sorenson has ever been inside.

The Rosenblatt lot is absolute tailgating nirvana.

And if you don't have cooking duties, it's time to play.

Is there a better way to spend Father's Day than playing washers with your dad in the Rosenblatt lot before a CWS game? Can't think of one, unless you're more into rodeo golf:

I don't even know what to say about this bunch, except that several of them are in med school, so one day your life might depend on them.

Meanwhile, no one's a stranger in the lot, especially Louisiana's Bead Man.

Unfortunately, LSU's drought has kept most other Tiger fans at home, which is a shame, because no one cooks like those guys.

Oh, you have general admission tickets? Dude, you have to get in line early!

That picture really doesn't do the line justice. That line is seriously over a half mile long.

These guys are from Minot, North Dakota. To get these front row left field seats, they got in line at 1:45 on a 90-degree day... for a six o'clock game!

If you don't get in line early, you might not get in, and even if you do, you might end up standing way back in center field, nearly 500 feet from home plate.

Before you head in, though, you have to get yourself ready.

In the words of the immortal David Puddy, "Gotta support the team!"

Even if you don't have a favorite team, you can still show your support.

Every local I've talked to this weekend absolutely haaaaates the idea of tearing down Rosenblatt and building a new stadium downtown. Worst. Idea. Ever, according to many.

Seriously, how sad would it be to see that get torn down?

If you somehow didn't get enough to eat in the parking lot, inside the game you can get your munch on with an Onion Blossom.

I'm not a nutritionist, but I believe that's about 42,000 calories and 1,382 grams of saturated fat. Buy three and get a free angioplasty!

Or, you can buy refreshments from Angry Ice Cream Vendor.

Every good vendor here has his own act, including Angry Ice Cream Vendor. If no one's buying from this guy, he will stop in the aisle, set down his tray, and just glare at people who inexplicably aren't buying his product with a hilarious look of disgust, dismay, and disbelief. Priceless.

More LSU guys toss out Mardi Gras beads between innings in Section O.

And you might even bump into someone you know...

That's UNC hoops coach Roy Williams. Think he wouldn't have loved to have a double elimination format in the basketball tournament a bunch of years? As you can see, Roy was sitting on the back row of his section, in easy access to the other fans, and he graciously shook hands, signed autographs, and posed for pictures between every inning.

After the game, head out to the lot for a couple of the things that make the CWS great.

The buses park right in front of the stadium, giving fans the opportunity to meet their favorite players after the game.

One of my favorite sights this year was the absolute herd of kids crowded around tiny Louisville shortstop Chris Cates. He didn't exactly stand out while signing autographs:

Finally, after a team is eliminated, it's off to see the hooding of their flamingo.

An Omaha-based, but far-flung group in the parking lot calls themselves "The Professional Tailgaters." For the last 15 years, they've staked their territory with eight flamingos, each wearing team-colored beads and team stickers. When a team is eliminated, there's an elaborate hooding ceremony.

The master of ceremony says a few somber words, then as kids play "Taps" with kazoos, he pours a beer over the head of the eliminated team's flamingo, and hoods it for the remainder of the series.

People make lists of things they want to see before they die. The hooding ceremony for an eliminated team's flamingo in the Rosenblatt parking lot should be on the list for any college baseball fan.

In fact, this whole week should be #1 on that list. After all, it's not heaven, but it's damn close.