Tailgating is no fun without friends, food, or football tickets

Tonight the Buckeyes are playing Indiana University, a school with a mascot that may be even odder than our own. I mean, sure, a buckeye is a tree nut, but what the heck is a Hoosier? I checked and it’s apparently a term for an Indiana redneck. Nice mascot guys. Go Rednecks! Right now it’s the end of the first quarter and the Buckeyes have a ten point lead with… ten points. I had to look up the score online though because, sadly, I don’t have cable. Several weeks ago for the USC game I was pretty disappointed when I realized that it was going to be broadcast on ESPN; I had assumed “the big game” would be broadcast locally. Of course, this was after I bought myself a bunch of snacks and sat down ready to watch it. Oops. At least I didn’t embarrass myself by inviting a bunch of friends over to watch the game with me (easily avoided though since I don’t really have any friends). I think I wound up watching Cops or something that night.

Before I sat down to “watch the game,” I went for a walk. I’d never experienced tailgating before but I heard that the tailgating parties at Ohio State are legendary, so I had to check it out. I didn’t have tickets (first year scumbags like me don’t deserve them yet), but I wanted to get a feel for what game day was like. I live about a mile south of campus, so it was an easy walk; even easier considering all I had to do was follow the hoards of people, clad in scarlet and gray, all heading towards the stadium. By the way, these same people are the reason parking is at such a premium in my neighborhood every game day. I either have to stay home all day, or plan to be out all day. Anyways, when I finally got to the stadium, after nearly being run over by a taxi on the way, I got to see what it was all about. I’d actually never been to a football game before, and the atmosphere was definitely more festive than for a baseball game. Through the crowd I saw dozens, maybe even hundreds of tents set up.

I assumed that like most festivals I’d been to, some of these must be vendors. I could smell the food which reminded me I hadn’t had dinner yet, so I figured I’d go see what was available. I headed towards the tents and once I got to what I guess must have been the middle of it all, claustrophobia set in. There were Buckeyes fans all drinking beers, music ringing in my ears, fires burning everywhere, and beanbags flying through the air. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t like crowds. So why would I plunge headlong into a mass of humanity ten thousand strong? I got myself out of there and then took another look at the tailgaters from a safe distance. I know this may seem like common sense to someone who grew up in a family of football fanatics, but I realized something just then. Tailgating isn’t one big party. It’s thousands of little parties, all in the same spot. Each one of these tents held an individual family or group of friends having a picnic out of the back of their car and it’s so crowded, they’ve only got enough room to stand in one spot.

Then I had another revelation: tailgating is no fun if you don’t have any friends, food, or football tickets.

I went home.