Drugs, alcohol, groupies—none of these cures for homesickness will be on the Badger Days tour when it travels across Wisconsin this summer. For those unfamiliar with Badger Days, it’s a tour of Badger coaches to cities around the state.

Last Thursday, UW officials announced that the tour will make stops in Eau Claire, Milwaukee, Green Bay and Wausau.

I’m sure all the coaches will behave themselves on the road, but the whole idea of a tour got me thinking … what if they weren’t coaches, but a rock ‘n’ roll band cruising across the state in the early 1970s? What instruments would they play, and how would their personalities mesh …

May 29—Our camera crew catches up with Red Zeppelin on the band’s tour bus before its first show in Baraboo. Manager Barry Alvarez climbs aboard the bus wearing a yellow and brown checkered suit coat, aviator sunglasses and several gold chains. He holds a martini with two olives in one hand and the nub of what once was a Camel cigarette in the other.

“Babies,” Alvarez begins, pausing to take a final draw from his cig. “I don’t need to tell you how important this first concert is. It sets the tone for the entire tour. Now let’s get out there and rock this house for 60, I mean, 120 minutes.”

“It’s a great day for rock ‘n’ roll,” drummer Mike Eaves screams as the band walks onto the stage to a thunderous ovation.

Lead singer Bret Bielema wows the throngs of Red Zeppelin supporters when he opens with “Hey, Hey What Can I Do (Got an Offensive Line Coach that Won’t Be True).”

Bo Ryan, who smokes his distinctive corn-cob pipe during each show, emits a soulful, bluesy sound on his guitar, nicknamed Chester. Lisa Stone also plays a guitar she calls Jolene and adds backup vocals. Greg Van Emburgh lays down a funky beat on bass guitar. Eaves bangs on the skins, while Mark Johnson tickles the ivories and also contributes on vocals. Jeff Rohrman plays a mean cowbell.

After a sensational performance that includes hits like “Halfback Counter to Heaven,” “When De (Andre) Levy Breaks” and a cover of the Beatles’ “Chryst, You Know It Ain’t Easy,” the band returns to its hotel room at the Baraboo Hilton to party.

“We’re 1-0,” Bielema yells, spraying champagne all over his wild, long hair and Fu Manchu. June 11—The band rehearses several new numbers for a Flag Day celebration in LaCrosse, and tempers flare.

“So that’s when I come in with the Hambone solo, right Bret?”

“F-no, Bo. How many times do I have to tell you that we’re a rock ‘n’ roll band? Nobody wants to hear blues songs about the playgrounds in Chester or about the crossword puzzle you just did. And for the love of God, no one wants to watch you Hambone.”

“Look Bret. I know you’re the main reason people come to see us play, and you’ve written some great songs. ‘Vague Injury Report’—that was a classic. But you’ve got to stop being so controlling. You’ve had one great tour, and that was when you played with some talented musicians Alvarez assembled for you.”

“Screw you, Bo. I suppose you think you’ll actually become a legend with that goofy style of guitar you play.”

July 2— Following a poor show in Oconomowoc, tensions mount within the band. Several of the members voice their concerns about Stone’s erratic guitar playing.

“This was supposed to be your tour, Lisa,” Eaves says. “All we read in the papers was how great you were going to be. You had a top-of-the-line Fender named Jolene and a couple of amps that you’ve used for four years. And for what? Nothing.”

“Shut up, Mike,” Stone snaps back. “You’re not exactly Bob Johnson on the drums, you know.”

“Cut me some slack. These drums are brand new. They’re not used to life on the road. I still need some time to break them in. Just wait. By the end of the tour, you’ll hear a totally different sound.”

August 1—The tour halts unexpectedly in Sheboygan. Bielema strains his vocal chords, but refuses to report the injury to doctors.

“Great. Now who’s going to be our lead singer?” Alvarez asks himself, nervously lighting another Camel in a motel parking lot.

“I heard you guys could use some help,” a dark figure in the shadows says.

“Ed Nuttycombe,” Alvarez gasps. “I didn’t think you were a musician.”

“I’m not, but I did coach the men’s track and field team to eight consecutive Big Ten Indoor Championships.”

“Good enough for me. You’re hired.”

... Oh, what a magical mystery tour it would be.

E-mail Ryan at reszel@dailycardinal.com to comment.