Anyone who has been tailgating for even a couple of years can see a steady, progressive change in the manner in which they tailgate. Part of it is experience, part of it is the people and number of people in your group, and of course preparing for the weather. This is my 6th season of Pitt tailgates. Pat is the group’s master, as he has been a loyal attendee of games through all his schooling at Pitt and after graduating.
[Editor Note: I may have some of the timeline a little screwed up, I’m working from memory, such as it is.]
I went in with Pat for season tickets in ’98. At the time, I was working in Youngstown, Ohio; so it was only a little more than an hour’s drive into Pittsburgh. We suffered through a brutal 2-9 season — the worst, watching them blow a lead to Rutgers (or was it Temple) in a cold, rainy October. I think it was the first and only time, Pat was ever convinced to leave a Pitt game before the bitter end. This was still at the late, old Pitt Stadium, right on campus. Our parking lot, was actually a parking garage, that had a partially open deck. It was not a problem to get a good spot on the deck. It was a great location, overlooking “The Hill.” You look down on all the people (well, given the condition of the program at the time it wasn’t a lot of people) heading up to the stadium. The tailgating was very basic. Maybe bring a grill and do some dogs; and just drink beer. More often, though, just stop down at Uncle Sam’s for a cheesesteak to eat in the lot; or even drink and have lunch at one of the bars. Still, by the end of the season, Pat and I had the set-up and breakdown of the chairs, table and grill down cold.
The following year, we added Lee and some of the group started making it for some games. Everyone had to make an appearance by the end of the season — the last at Pitt Stadium. We still hit Uncle Sam’s at least once — because of time issues, but we were doing more grilling, and preferring it. Scoring the “wake-up” became a point of pride between Lee and I.
2000 was when everything changed. Pitt would play a season at the late Three Rivers Stadium, before moving nextdoor into Heinz Field. The true meaning of this, was that Pitt would be playing its football games off-campus. A move I had genuine doubts as to what it would mean for the fans. How would the students handle going across town to see the games? Would the students be willing to go across town for games? How would the fans handle the loss of intimacy that Pitt Stadium provided? Most importantly, how would the tailgating change? We had to bring all of the stuff. There were no restaurants nearby that wouldn’t be packed or absolutely suck. The plus side, was that the new lot had more space. Our group was now 6 plus 2 affiliates. Pat, Lee, Shawn, John, Harlan and myself. Lee still had his underpowered pick-up that made loading and unloading for tailgating a cinch. Meeting beforehand in the South Side, going to the nearby grocery store for the grill materials and then the beer distributor. We actually started using a cooler to keep the beer and food cold — The Harlan Memorial Cooler. By the end of the season, we had two coolers. Harlan ran the grill and even cleaned it with military precision. Lines were defined, crossed and obliterated. Yuengling Lager became the “official” beer of our tailgating. Official/unofficial decisions were made as to tailgating guests.
2001. Peaks and valleys. The team got off to a horrible start– I hate the spread offense. That loss to USF still haunts me. Our seats were not as good as we hoped. And they moved the majority of the starting times to 1 pm. Our group was at double digits. We made attempts to protect ourselves from the sun, by getting a freestanding canopy, but the parking lot fascists wouldn’t let us use it (and no, Lee, you are not getting your portion back). Hebrew National Beef Franks became the “official” hot dog.
2002. Harlan left us for employment and partying in Georgia, but the cooler remained. Otherwise, our numbers remained the same. To compensate for the 1pm start times, we started making assignments on what to bring in advance, and expected everyone to have them when we met. More parking passes were purchased to accommodate those who might have to leave early or arrive late because of the new x-factor: newborns. An unofficial ban on children at our tailgates was instigated.
2003. Who knows.
The move to Heinz Field has worked for a lot of fans and alumni, because they have more room to tailgate. We show up roughly 2-3 hours before kick-off. The lots were barely half-filled in 2000. Last year, we were having trouble getting decent spots. This year, may be worse for parking since the season is sold out — but I don’t doubt part of it is that Pitt fans finally are having room to really tailgate rather than just be in parking garages.
Why this retrospective on tailgating? I started thinking about it after reading this article (subs. req’d) that focused mainly on NFL Tailgating:
Last year, before Houston Texans’ football games, Hector Galvan hung out in the parking lot with a few friends and a charcoal grill. And this year? He’s spent nearly $10,000 converting an old mail truck into a tailgating mobile, with wall-to-wall AstroTurf and a special grill-fridge combo. He’s inviting not only dozens of friends to every game — but clients, too.
“It’s a great way to mix business and pleasure,” says the Houston contractor.
The future of tailgating is here — and it looks a lot like big business. With the NFL season kicking off next week, everyone from food conglomerates to camping suppliers is trying to get a piece of these ballooning pregame affairs. Coleman, which introduced its first tailgating grill last year, now has nine products in its RoadTrip line. A catalog just for this set, American Tailgater, features tailgate flags, tailgate tents, even a gas-powered margarita blender ($355). There are training camps by Ragu (hosted by John Madden) and parking-lot contests by Jack Daniels. The NFL itself says it sells $100 million a year of tailgating merchandise, including keg-shape grills. “Tailgating, Inc.” has become so big, some folks are buying $75 scalped passes — just for a parking space.
There is nothing new about tailgaters throwing fancier bashes, of course. But what’s surprising is how quickly this has become its own industry, driven by corporations partying in the parking lot and vendors discovering the market’s big-spending potential. A survey sponsored by Coca-Cola last season showed 41% of tailgaters spend more than $500 a season on food and supplies — while Ragu found more than half prefer the party to the actual game. In all, those in the business estimate up to one-quarter of the 16.9 million people who attend NFL games are tailgaters, with some teams, such as the Houston Texans, saying it’s closer to 40%.
The $500 figure seems low, unless they mean per person. I guess I’m not surprised by how it has become it’s own industry. It seems more like the surprise is how quickly the bigger companies caught on to the popularity.
The change hasn’t come without controversy. Some cities have complained about public drunkenness and mountains of postgame trash, while teams stand to lose concession revenue as more people eat outside. But even then, the response has been, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. The Buffalo Bills provide showers and changing rooms in the parking lot, while the Denver Broncos go so far as to pick a “most valuable tailgater” each home game. And in Houston, the Texans send out a quarterly “Tailgating Times” newsletter, sponsor “Tailgating 101” classes at a local sporting-goods store — and run a Tailgate Village for big groups, starting at $95 a head. “It’s become as big as the game,” says NFL spokesman Brian McCarthy.
Indeed, teams that years ago frowned on the events now view them as an added bonus to $50 tickets and a way to keep the fans coming, win or lose. It worked for Philadelphia Eagles fan Russ Stevenson, who’s already making plans for a December party in Miami (featuring two bands, 10 masseuses, a clown and an Elvis impersonator). He’s expecting about 1,500 of his closest friends to dine on barbecue, mahi mahi and conch fritters. “It’s going to be my best party yet,” says the advertising executive.
Unfortunately, Pittsburgh hasn’t caught on to this yet. Apparently they are still trying to be very restrictive at the lots (at least officially). Pat has the info.
Now, vendors are stepping in with gear that’s, well, a bit over-the-top. About a half-dozen companies make big grills that tailgaters can hook to the back of their rigs; for $3,500, Texan Tailgaters’ model also features a generator, fridge and TV. Too much hassle dealing with the trailer hitch? California customizer Galpin Motors has a pickup truck just for tailgating — with a huge grill, taps for two beer kegs, a blender and flip-down TV screen. (It seats six, and costs $70,000.) Overall, American Tailgater, a catalog and Web site offering more than 100 items from tailgate grills to BBQ neckties, says sales have nearly tripled in the last year.
Okay, I want that pickup.
Food companies are tackling this burgeoning industry, too, with special promotions and tailgating events. After it lost its spot as official NFL cola, Coca-Cola decided that getting out of the stadium might be good for business. Beginning last season, it set up its own tailgating area at Atlanta games, and it’s cosponsoring a contest to give away a Coke RV and tailgating kit. “We’re looking to do more,” says a company spokesman. Candy-maker Masterfoods USA, meanwhile, isn’t satisfied having the usual corporate suites: As part of its sponsorship of the NFL this season, it’s holding parties in a motor coach as well, complete with golf carts to haul clients around the parking lot. “It’s a more intimate setting,” says Scott Hudler, a marketing manager for the company. “You’re not missing the tailgating like you would in a suite.”
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For the NFL, all of this has been a love-hate affair. Teams like the old Houston Oilers didn’t allow tailgating, while even now some designate only a portion of the parking lot for pregame partying. And for teams that are run on a tight margin, concession sales are an important revenue center. The league itself admits that stadiums stand to lose food and beer sales to tailgaters — losses one economist, Smith College’s Andrew Zimbalist, estimates at as much as $750,000 a team annually. But teams and observers say the bashes help build loyal fans who pay in other ways, from boosting the league’s TV ratings to buying season tickets. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that tailgating helps ease local traffic, because fans start arriving as early as 6 a.m. and often drive home hours after the game.
The bigger question, though, is whether some companies might drop pricey corporate suites in favor of cheap seats and a party out front. Teams says suite sales are still strong, but so many companies are heading straight to the parking lot that there are even caterers specializing in corporate tailgate parties. (One, Showtime Motor Sports of Winston Salem, N.C., is holding 20 to 30 events this year at up to $10,000 a pop.) “It’s a business reception in a parking lot,” says Joe Cahn, who runs Tailgating.com. “They don’t have to worry about VIP parking, they don’t have to worry about spilling things on a rug.”
Exactly, says Gary Scher. The head of a Baltimore medical-sales company says he uses his Ravens tailgate parties to boost business, inviting doctors and hospital staff to get a personalized keg cup, free T-shirts and lots of food. Total cost: about $4,000 this season. Do people buy his products? “They know if they don’t, they won’t get invited to the next tailgate,” he says.
