Hey fellow Tiger fans...I had not seen this until tonight. Being circulated from about 3/yrs ago. I can't be with you...but here's to rocking TS for 4/QTRs. The truth about Death Valley: It died decades ago Story from the Knoxville News-Sentinel By Gary Lundy News-Sentinel sportswriter Most of us would probably roll our eyes if Vanderbilt had the nerve to call its football stadium "Death Valley." We'd think Kentucky's Hal Mumme had lost his marbles if he started referring to Commonwealth Stadium as "Death Valley." So why isn't our reaction the same when we hear the term used at LSU? The moniker rings hollow. It's a joke. "Death Valley," of course, is the pretentious tag that LSU still hangs on its football stadium. The University of Tennessee will play in Baton Rouge on Saturday for the first time since a 20-0 cakewalk over the Tigers in 1992. Death Valley? They should call it Kevorkian Valley because, as often as not, the victim is LSU, and death is self-inflicted. It's hard to get too excited about the mystique of a place where Alabama-Birmingham just knocked off Nick Saban's boys in purple and gold. It's hard to get too excited about the mystique of a place where LSU is 3-8 in SEC games since 1997. Houston beat LSU at home in the '90s. So did Colorado State. Ask Alabama how hard it is to win in "Death Valley." The Tide is undefeated (14-0-1) in Baton Rouge since 1969. Tennessee receiver Eric Locke knows what it's like. He played in "Death Valley" when he was with the Tide in 1998, and there's not much awe in his voice when he talks about it. "It's a real nice environment to play in," Locke said after the Vols destroyed Louisiana-Monroe 70-3 Saturday. Ask UT defensive backs coach Larry Slade what he remembers about a trip to "Death Valley" in 1994, when he was an assistant coach with Texas A&M, and he says, "I remember all the drunk people when we got there." Though he walked through the valley of death, Slade and A&M came away a winner. UT freshman Michael Munoz has heard stories from his father about playing at LSU. Anthony Munoz was a standout at Southern Cal when the Trojans came to Baton Rouge and won 17-12 in 1979. "My Dad told me it was the loudest place he had ever played," Munoz said. "It's part of football history and tradition down there." The key word is history. That was 21 years ago. Many of the Vols weren't even born then. The myth of Death Valley has been perpetuated because of two main reasons. LSU publicists got a lot of mileage out of a 1987 College Football Association poll of the nation's Division I-A coaches, which named LSU has the most dreaded home field in the nation. Also, in 1988, the LSU Geology department registered an earthquake-sized tremor on campus from the fans rocking the stadium at the exact moment Tommy Hodson threw a touchdown pass to give the Tigers a 7-6 win over Auburn. For years, LSU included a photo of the seismograph chart in its media guide. But scientists say fans at any major football power would make the needle jump on a seismograph. "When you've been to Birmingham at night or Florida at night, they're all loud," Tennessee coach Randy Sanders said. "After a certain point, it doesn't matter how loud it is because you can't hear anyway." UT quarterback Casey Clausen has heard about Death Valley from his younger brother, a high school senior who has committed to play for the Tigers. "He told me it's a real big-time place to play," Clausen said. "He'll probably give me a hard time this week." If he wanted, Clausen could give it right back to his little brother. Truth is, LSU's "Death Valley" died decades ago. May it rest in peace.