Captain of the Tailgate: The cultural shift

by 3k on Nov 19, 2010 10:47 AM CST in Captain of the Tailgate

I'll be honest - I'm not a tailgater. Sure, I've tailgated at Dallas Cowboys games and SEC football games, high school games and maybe a couple other sporting events here or there that I'm forgetting. But I don't consider myself "a tailgater."

You might see that as a contradiction; it might be hard to understand how someone who has tailgated dozens of times doesn't consider himself to be a tailgater. But the culture of tailgating has expanded so rapidly and so abundantly that I just don't feel comfortable placing myself in the same ranks of people who know they are true tailgaters.

Consider the fact that the tailgating community now has a census underway. Tailgating has a commissioner. You can find tailgating Twitter feeds. If you're the type that needs to see the merchandise to believe it, here's a catalog of random tailgating goods. And the reason I don't consider myself a tailgater is that I didn't know any of this until about 10 minutes ago when I start sifting through Google searches to find something to write this piece about.

Now I'm a drinker, y'all should know this by now. And if one of my boys (all Dallas Cowboys fans) calls me up and wants to hang out before a game, they know damn well I'm more than willing to sip it up in a parking lot. And if my cousin J wants me to come to an LSU game and supply the sauce while he works the gumbo, I can't resist this:

J_s_gumbo_medium

So to 3k-ify a line from Band of Brothers, if someone asks me if I'm tailgater, I'll proudly say, "No. But I drank in the company of tailgaters." So what are your thoughts on tailgating as a subculture of the overall sporting culture? Do you consider yourself a tailgater? Is becoming one your next New Year's Resolution (those never work out, BTW)? Are you just there for the food and booze? Or do you eschew the whole scene altogether?

Marisa Miller, I believe you have something to show us?

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Comments

I wuv you 3K

But jesh that stew scared the hell out of me!!..

by Da Rookie on Nov 19, 2010 1:09 PM CST reply actions

First off bruh

Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever call gumbo “stew.” I thought about deleting that comment for your sake…but more importantly, why did it scare you? That’s some Southern ambrosia.

You don't seem to want to accept the fact you're dealing with an expert in guerrilla warfare, with a man who's the best, with guns, with knives, with his bare hands. A man who's been trained to ignore pain, ignore weather, to live off the land, to eat things that would make a billy goat puke. In *St. Louis* his job was to dispose of enemy personnel. To kill! Period! Win by attrition. Well, *Steven Jackson* was the best.

by 3k on Nov 19, 2010 1:27 PM CST up reply actions

Yeah, that Gumbo looks somethin fierce

but I’m a Que and drink type guy. Nothin close to a tailgater so I gotta ask. What is that 6’ poll, sticking out of the hot stuff, used for? Looks like a stir stiick but seems a little long for that. And befoe anyone else drops it…..“That’s what Marisa Miller said” Hahaha.

"SJAX" - The extra strength cleaner that fights off that Stubborn, Stingy Defense

by moy on Nov 19, 2010 2:40 PM CST up reply actions

It's called a skimmer

or a spider. Here’s an example of the kind we use. It’s more or less a basket on a stick. My family either uses those or oars, depending on what we’re making. When we do crawfish boils, we use oars like this to make sure you push the spices around.

by 3k on Nov 19, 2010 3:14 PM CST up reply actions

I like it, very usefull info

"SJAX" - The extra strength cleaner that fights off that Stubborn, Stingy Defense

by moy on Nov 21, 2010 7:37 PM CST up reply actions

Yo...

havin’ a low country boil tomorrow! Holla..

St Louis Rams team psychic advisor

by Brawnwitch on Nov 19, 2010 2:31 PM CST reply actions

The best tailgaters I've been to

For concerts. I remember the Monsters of Rock in San Francisco in 1988 July 16th. Damn best Tailgate party I ever went to. Brings a whole new meaning to the term grilled. I surfed into the parking lot that day on the hood of my own 1967 ford LTD rust bucket, which I had spent the entire previous night rebuilding the front of my engine block so I could get there. The rest of this story is entirely epic. It ends with me walking out of Candlestick at 930 pm with nothing but my shorts. 120,000 people, huge mosh pit. I was at the center of the universe that day when I made it to the front, within spittin distance of none other than James Hetfield himself.

by dbcouver on Nov 19, 2010 4:51 PM CST reply actions