This Saturday marks my 9th trip to the Hunt. As they say, "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it." To that end here are nine tips for those of you who may be attending for the first time, as well as for those whose memory of the day is too fuzzy to avoid the aforementioned repeat of doom.

1) Choosing whom to spend the day with: 84% of you will be attending with old friends or relatively new ones you've made in Hoboken. But for the 16% of you who will be going with a person you're kind-of-dating-but-aren't-sure-if-it's-exclusive-yet, here are some pearls of wisdom.

Outside of the pseudo-boyfriend/girlfriend, you won't know too many others at that plot, thereby putting said boyfriend/girlfriend in an obligation-position (we already just broke the record for most hyphens in one column, by the way) will force you to cling to the side of that person for the better part of 480 minutes. 

This approach breaks every rule of the Hunt (not socializing at as many different plots as possible), so the call here is to go to dinner with at your sort-of-significant-other on any other night and put things on hold until after October 18th.

You can thank me later.

2) What to drink and how much before noon: Most buses will leave around 9:45 AM (Note: There's always one a-hole from the city who misses the PATH, begs 110 people not to leave without him/her via phone...blah, blah, blah. Count on it). The temptation to drink will be overwhelming because (a) You've been counting down to this day like a 10-year-old kid who asked for a Mongoose dirt bike at Christmas, and (b) Everyone else is already cracking open a Corona or downing Memossas like they just crossed the desert.

Then the traffic hits when you hit Far Hills, and that feeling of never getting there until 2:00 PM manifests itself. One beer leads to four, and before you can say happily buzzed you're off the bus. Problem is, your watch says its only 10:45 in the morning.

So after doing that 1/2 mile walk to your plots, that fear of losing yoiur buzz is palpable again.

So what to do?

Go to the hard stuff, of course.

But you'll forget that you're not in summer drinking shape anymore. That train sailed seven weeks ago, and while you'll had a few good nights since here and there, all-day drinking binge hasn't been part of the itinerary.

Sure...maybe you had a few when taking in a Giants game on a Sunday afternoon, but that lasted 3-4 hours, not 9-14. Just keep that in mind...

Note: The move to mixed drinks is fine IF you stick to one color, as my friend Jessica Seilheimer always points out.

Jack-and-coke? Fine.

Jack-and-coke plus Grey Goose and tonic immediately after, followed by a shot of tequila and a jump to a screwdriver? Well, let's just say this leads to no-no #9. But read the rest of the column first to avoid some other pitfalls while taking the journey to the Borough of Blackout.

What to wear: Those who know me know that I wasn't called to be on the set of The Devil Wears Prada (which can be seen on HBO 17 times a day). But I can say that when it comes to footwear, I know from experience that finding a pair of boots from the back of your closet or even some you have stored at your parents house if the way to go. As Seilheimer notes: "Pick boots reserved for one day a year. 'Nuff said." They don't call her the Beauty Guru for nothing...

A check of the weather says that it will be perfect Hunt weather this year: 60 degrees, partly sunny, light wind.

Don't let it fool you.

There are showers in the forecast for Thursday night, and for some odd reason Moorland Farms does not drain well at all. In fact, since it has a huge hill to the north of the track, all the water from there seeps onto the area where you'll be (the infield), thereby making it muddy even if it doesn't rain for 36 hours. And all of the cars driving through the slop doesn't exactly a red carpet event, either.

As for pants and sweaters, be prepared for it to be 5-8 degrees colder than forecasted. It's like going to Giants Stadium...always prepare for the worst no matter what the Weather Channel says. To that end, dress like it will be 50 out, not 60.

Port-a-John Strategy: So besides the obvious advice (avoid #2 at all costs if you aren't an advocate of anal infections), picking which Port-O-John area to go to is rather important.

There are basically two such areas to choose from: The long line of portables near the rail in the center, which is basically amateur hour (but a great place to meet people who are forced to speak to each other while on line), and then there are those sitting on the eastern part of the infield that hardly ever have lines, are relatively clean, and probably aren't too much further away from your plots. We affectionally call this Area 51: People know it exists but few have ever actually seen it.

Bailing because of bad weather: All the details you need can be found here in my 2006 Hunt Your Social Obligation column.  

Not Eating: This girl I know forgot to eat before and during my P. Conchie All-White Party on Labor Day Weekend. The result? She just got over her hangover five minutes ago.

This advice is all-too obvious, but sometimes you can be having such a good time that you'll simply forget to eat. Given that you paid somewhere in the range of $125-$200 to be there, and the day is fully catered with some culinary masterpieces at every spot, wouldn't it make sense to get your total money's worth?

And calling in sick on Monday will not help you get over the regret of the previously noted blackout because you couldn't take five minutes to down a sandwich and some brownies...

Going out the night before: Silly rabbit. Do you jog or go biking?

Really? Good for you.

Now when you do this, do you go to the viaduct on 14th Street and run or pedal up it just for kicks?

That's basically the same feeling you'll have if you decide to tear it up on a dead Friday night before. Running uphill at the Hunt will only lead to fatigue around 2:00 PM after successfully biting the tail of the dog. This will then lead to a dependence on Red Bull and vodka, which scientists will most definitely conclude sometime around 2022 will be the root cause behind half the population dying prematurely of heart attack in their 50s. Trust me: There's nothing worse than a Red Bull hangover because not only is the head afftected, but the stomach as well. I'm not a doctor but I play one on the internet...

From a recent piece in the New Yorker:

"Some people say that the Red Bull holds the hangover at bay, but apparently its primary effect is to blunt the depressive force of alcohol—no surprise, since an eight-ounce serving of Red Bull contains more caffeine than two cans of Coke... According to Maria Lucia Souza-Formigoni, a psychobiology researcher at the Federal University of São Paolo.. after a few drinks with Red Bull, you’re drunk but you don’t know it, and therefore you may engage in high-risk behaviors—driving, going home with a questionable companion—rather than passing out quietly in your chair."

Texting throughout the Hunt: One sentence will suffice on this item: If you need to be texting anyone at the Hunt, which has 50,000 people and every person you'll ever known there since Junior High, its time to seek help.

Blackout drunk hookups in Hoboken: We've all been there and could be again. There's something very weird about returning the Mile Square (not the restaurant, but the town) after eight hours of copious alcohol on a farm. It's like a dream, or a nightmare, but rest assured that nothing is based in reality. The bars are all filled with an surreal mix of those just getting out for the night (a crowd you likely wouldn't normally assocaite yourself with if they were idiotic enough to avoid Far Hills) and the post-Hunt people who are jacked up on Red Bull and all look like Al Davis (this applies to both guys and girls).

Ultimately this will lead to more drinking, the predictable blackout, and waking up around 9:00 AM the next day with someone who, like you, has no idea how you got there. A quick, quiet but panicked search for condom wrappers ensues, followed by the easy excuse to get the hell out of there by saying you have tickets to the Jets game and need to get to the tailgate right away (even though they're in Oakland to play the Raiders).

Nine years of the Hunt.

Nine hours (and possibly more) of drinking on the horizon.

Nine things to avoid.

You're on your own now

Joe Concha is realhoboken.com’s Senior Writer. Please send all comments, questions and corrections to joe.concha@foxnews.com