LAKE CHARLES, La. – It’s three hours before game time on a perfectly crisp Cajun football Saturday night, and the lights of Cowboy Stadium are diffused by a soft, gray cloud of smoke that casts everything in that surreal haze you only see in Hollywood productions.

It’s confusing at first. Is it fog, even though there doesn’t seem to be a cloud in the sky? Is something burning … maybe a Black Bear being torched in effigy by the rabid McNeese State fans who have flocked to their home stadium for the impending NCAA Division I-AA tournament game against the University of Maine?

Or is something else to blame? Something … special? Something … tasty? Something … memorable?

Is it the smoke from 100, or 500, or 1,000 cook fires warming up jambalaya and gumbo, etouffee and crawfish, shrimp and homemade deer sausage?

You bet it is, Maine fans. You bet it is. And you’re all welcome to partake.

As they say down here, “Laissez les bons temps rouler.” Let the good times roll. In a few hours, your Black Bears will defeat McNeese State 14-10 and earn a second-round tourney date at Northern Iowa on Saturday.

But all that can wait. Right now, it’s tailgating time, Cajun-style. Come on in. Sit a spell. You won’t regret it.

And this is the enemy?

Jerry and Roxanne Hayes of Old Town are in town as part of what they figure will be a four-week tour of the nation that will end when their son, Chad, and his Black Bear teammates play for the national championship in Chattanooga, Tenn.

The first stop: Lake Charles. And the Hayeses came to the stadium ready for anything. Well, make that ready for anything but what they actually got.

McNeese fans, you see, love their Cowboys … or “Pokes,” as they’re often called. Some even get out of hand. And as parents of one of the opposing team’s stars, they could be in for a long evening.

Wrong.

Out here in the dark, behind the main grandstand … out where the cook fires burn and the odors of food mingle and mix into a wonderfully pungent air stew you’ll never find in Maine … it’s all about fun.

“We heard some bad stuff, but these guys are awesome. They can’t feed you enough,” Roxanne Hayes says, just minutes after happily slurping a “Jell-O shot” out of a proffered plastic cup. Jell-O shots, for those who haven’t been to a frat party lately, are exactly what they sound like: Jell-O mixed with some form of liquor. And everyone seems willing to give one a try.

Jerry and Roxanne always have made friends through football; one of the toughest parts of Chad’s fifth and final year at UMaine has been realizing that after this year, things won’t be quite the same. After this year, and after missing just one game in his college career, the run will be over.

“You hate to see it end,” Jerry says.

“It hasn’t yet, though,” Roxanne points out. “We’ve got three more games. Four more, counting this one.”

Most of the time, the Hayeses’ new friends are the parents of Chad’s teammates. Tonight, they’re the fans who’ll be rooting for their son to drop every ball thrown his way in just a couple of hours.

“At 7 o’clock, I’m sure [the hospitality] will change, but in three hours, I’m sure it will be back the way that it is right now,” Jerry says. “They won’t be quite as happy as we will, but I think they’ll feed us.”

According to Frank Landry, president of the Cowboy Club and the man in charge of doling out heaping helpings of crawfish fettuccini, that’s exactly the way it will be. And exactly the way it should be.

“After the game, win or lose, come back and we’ll give you another beer. Somebody’s got to cry in the beer, you know,” says Landry, who is also a Lake Charles Police Department major. “It’s not a hostile environment, but you do find some hecklers. They give a bad reputation to the whole school.”

That reputation is entirely undeserved. Even if you’re wearing identical UMaine jerseys bearing your son’s No. 80, Cowboy fans are happy to have you around. And they insist on feeding you.

We’ll get back to the eating later. Down here, you always get back to the eating. Trust me.

But there’s more than one way to kill time in southwest Louisiana. Just ask the UMaine cheerleaders.

Black Bears on the Bayou

While football was the official business for the Black Bears, one segment of the UMaine contingent got the chance to test the waters in Louisiana.

With midday temperatures hovering in the high 60s under partly cloudy skies Saturday, five of the 10 cheerleaders who headed to Louisiana decided a dip in the Holiday Inn pool would be a good idea.

OK, perhaps that’s not totally accurate.

Three cheerleaders – Andrea Fullerton of South Thomaston, Erika Desjardins of Bangor and Alicia Gifford of Farmington – made that choice. One, June Usher of Kennebunk, was lured to the pool area under false pretenses and paid the price.

“They told me it was heated, and they threw me in with my shirt on,” says Usher, who did wear a swimsuit, but hadn’t taken off the T-shirt she had planned to wear on the plane back to Bangor.

And yet another, Andrea Curtis of Rockland, hopped in only after some good, old-fashioned trickery: Her teammates told her to come on in … the water was fine.

“It’s like jumping into a bucket of ice,” Curtis says. “It seemed like a lot of fun at the time, but since I did it, my mind has changed.”

The cheerleaders had an eventful day that included shopping, going out to lunch … and … alligator wrestling?

Well, almost.

Fullerton took the opportunity to give it a try after checking out the gift shop at Cajun Charlie’s, a local restaurant.

“I got a picture of me wrestling a fake crocodile,” Fullerton says with a giggle. “I jumped in the garden and they took a picture of me. I got out and clamped down his mouth.”

The Maine women admitted that even if they hadn’t performed an impromptu cheer for a soccer team that was eating at Wendy’s (yes, they did that), they probably wouldn’t have blended in very well.

“We were wearing tank tops with no coats or anything, so they knew we were from Maine,” Desjardins says. “That and the lack of a Southern accent. We stick out down here.”

That’s not to say they didn’t enjoy their brief Southern swing.

Gifford, for instance, wound up buying an odd item you can find on racks at gift shops and convenience stores: a preserved, lacquered alligator head. Price: about 14 bucks.

She also took some food home with her.

“I bought some alligator jerky,” she says with a grin before admitting she’d probably try to pass it off to unsuspecting friends.

“[I’ll tell them] it’s just beef jerky, it’s just a Slim Jim,” she says.

Though some opted for familiar meals at Popeye’s and Wendy’s, others did get a chance to sample the local flavor.

“I tried fried orca,” Fullerton says uncertainly before looking to a teammate for help. “Orca?”

Desjardins shook her head, willingly lending a hand.

“Okra,” she said. “Orca’s the whale.”

Tailgating in style

Back in the tailgate area, there are RVs of every size, shape and color. Some fans even opt for the “old-school” mode of chowing down that gave the football pastime its name: They pull into a parking place in their pickup truck, drop the tailgate, fire up a grill and get cooking.

And then there are people like Todd Conner. You may think you’ve seen tailgating. You may think you know tailgating. You may think you’d fit right in.

Then stop by and visit Conner, chomp on a slab of proffered deer sausage, and let him tell you exactly how far this tailgating obsession can go.

“We’ve got a crawfish-boiling pot on there that will boil 300 pounds of crawfish at a time,” Conner says, warming up to the task of describing his built-from-scratch, 20-foot-long, 3,600-pound trailer, which is, without a doubt, a milestone to be preserved in the annals of tailgating excellence.

“It’s got a 100-gallon water tank, just potable water for washing and cooking. It’s got a sink. It’s got its own generator, it’s own black-iron pot for cooking jambalaya. A two-burner stove. And it’s got a big fryer for frying fries or whatever,” he says. “It’s got about everything but sleeping quarters on it.”

And don’t think he hasn’t considered adding those.

On Saturday, he fried a duck, cooked some sausage, made some chili, and served scores of friends, old and new, Cajun and Yankee.

After awhile, Conner grins, realizing that when you really itemize the beast he, two friends and his father invented, it sounds a bit … extravagant.

“We got a little elaborate with it, but that’s what it’s all about,” he says.

Most people down here would agree with him.

Like Lynn Miller. He’s the guy with the RV that sports a light tower you could use to illuminate a small backyard Wiffleball game.

He’s also the guy with a 10-foot-tall inflatable snowman named “Sneauxpoke,” (which jauntily sports a huge foam McNeese cowboy hat) attached to his RV. If you haven’t guessed, the French influence on the Bayou crops up often, as people add an “eaux” when a simple “o” would have worked fine.

And Miller’s the guy stirring a monstrous vat of “Black Bear jambalaya (it’s actually pork)” … with a shovel.

Or ask James Mallet, who’s handing out boudins in front of a wooden cowboy who happens to have a black bear (it’s actually more greenish under Miller’s garish lights, but “looked blacker in daylight”) hanging from a noose.

He’ll tell you. This is the way tailgating is supposed to be. Right?

Maybe not.

“This is a shy night,” he says somewhat apologetically. You see, LSU’s playing Saturday in Baton Rouge. The Saints are at home in New Orleans on Sunday. And he figures that’s why the tailgating area is merely crowded, rather than bursting at the seams.

So this is a shy night.

That’s Cajun for “You ought to see this joint when it’s really hopping.”

And that’s somewhat alarming.

Wasn’t there a game?

Tailgating is serious business. No doubt about it. But as you’ve probably heard, there was a football game Saturday night.

And the Black Bears kept the Hayes family’s travel plans on schedule, coming up with key defensive stops en route to a win that propels them into the second week – and the final eight – of the NCAA tourney.

After the game, Jerry and Roxanne Hayes were in the middle of the throng that milled around on the closely cropped Cowboy Stadium grass.

UMaine coach Jack Cosgrove made his way over to them, lifted the diminutive Roxanne into the air in a (black) bear hug, and shared the thought of the day.

“Another trip for us,” he says as Roxanne’s feet dangled above the turf. “Another trip. Another trip.”

One big reason for the Bears’ success: A 6-foot-6, 252-pounder from Old Town. A guy named Chad Hayes.

Jerry and Roxanne’s boy caught a Jake Eaton pass and dove into the end zone for the first Black Bear score, then set up the winning touchdown when he lunged for a first down on a third-and-10 catch.

“It hasn’t hit me yet,” Chad Hayes said. “It hasn’t hit me. But it’s the best feeling you could ask for.”

It was still hitting his parents, too.

“I can’t believe it,” Roxanne kept saying. “I’m so excited. I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for Chad.”

After all the other well-wishers made their way to Chad, Roxanne and Jerry stepped through the crowd and told him just that.

Jerry kissed his son on the cheek and gave him a hearty hug. Chad smiled.

Jerry and Roxanne are sure of one thing, though. They’re going to be traveling. And they may not be home much during the next few weeks.

“We’re gonna have a small Christmas, but it’s worth it,” Roxanne says, her feet finally back on terra firma.

That’s exactly what Jerry said a few hours before, back when the Jell-O shots were flowing and the crawfish fettuccini was fresh.

“I just know that the party after Chattanooga’s gonna be incredible,” Jerry says, already planning ahead.

Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing is sure.

The Bears are going on another trip next week.

Next stop, Cedar Falls, Iowa. Stay tuned.