Back in December 2014, my bff Becci and I made a short road trip to El Paso to watch ASU beat Duke in the Sun Bowl.
It was a cooooold game, and well, to keep warm during tailgating, we had availed ourselves of a not insignificant portion of Becci’s homemade apple pie moonshine. ASU won the game, and we returned to our hotel, a cheapish place near the airport.
After a long day, Becci was pretty exhausted, but I can’t sleep for several hours after an ASU football game. We were sharing a room with a single queen bed. No big deal, but it also meant that I’d probably keep her up if I stayed in the room. As we were walking into the hotel, I had overheard a few other ASU fans mention that they were heading to the hotel bar, so I decided to let her sleep while I unwound at the bar.
When I walked in, though, I didn’t see any ASU fans. In fact, I only saw two Duke fans; the place was otherwise empty. So, victory in hand, I saddled up to the bar right next to them. I’m a good sport—and also entirely comfortable and proficient in trash talk, when needed—but we had a friendly and enjoyable conversation over a beer. They retired after their beverage, but I wasn’t tired enough to return to the room yet.
So I wandered to the restroom to make some more room, and in doing so, noticed an entirely different half of the bar. It was a split level (huh?), which effectively obscured the two sections from one another. There was a large table of ASU fans, presumably the ones I had overheard earlier. After the restroom, I made my way to the table and asked if I could join. “Sure, grab a chair and hop on in!”
The group was primarily comprised of older band moms—a surprisingly feisty bunch, actually. They had been tailgating together for a few years while their kids were members of the Sun Devil Marching Band. In fact, one of the kids at the table, Rob, was the current drum major. We got to talking and—like fresh meat—all the attention focused on me. They were fascinated by my long-term fandom (I had been a season ticket holder since fourth grade), my job in conservation, and my national parks quest in particular. It was an enjoyable time, and they were much more fun than I had anticipated. When it was time to head back to the room, I thanked them for letting me crash their table and said goodbye. I figured that was the end of it.
A few weeks later, I started noticing some posts from people I didn’t immediately recognize on my Facebook feed. It took me a bit to figure it out, but…it was the band mom crew from El Paso. They had apparently snatched my unlocked phone when I went to the restroom, and each had friended themselves from my Facebook app. I laughed—how sneaky!
The following season—On This Day in 2015—Becci and I, and my other buddy Scott who had season tickets with us, decided to meet up with them for a pregame tailgate at an ASU-sponsored venue. We had a blast, and decided that we’d combine our tailgates.
So this is our tenth year of tailgating with them, always at the same location overlooking the stadium. Our tailgate crew has ebbed and flowed over the years. We peaked around 25 regular participants each week several seasons ago, but it’s shrunk quite a bit since then as folks have moved away, or moved on. And my commitment to college football—which has undergone some disheartening changes in the last few years—has waned considerably recently as well.
Our tailgates are a lot of work, not just in the prep and coordination (which is considerable), but also in the day-of execution. It’s a twelve-hour affair each home game: we prep, pack up the Subaru (we have to add our rooftop bin for the extra cargo space), and arrive five hours before kickoff, the game lasts another 3-4 hours, and then we do a post-game tailgate for another 30-90 minutes to let the traffic pass (we also have champagne toast after wins), plus unpacking when we get home (after our traditional stop at In-N-Out Burger on the drive back, that is). A very full day, often concluding well after midnight.
We considered opting out of ASU tickets this year, as we’re trying to reduce our investment in the team, and in sports in general, to open up more weekends for fall travel. And while I’m far less interested in it these days, it’s also hard to simply walk away from. After all, this has been a part of my life since I was eight.
And since my parents’ bitter divorce back in college, ASU games—including pregame tailgating—had been the only occasions we spent as a family. So, yeah, I have loads of memories; it feels a bit weird to step back.
That said, it’s probably the tailgate that helped seal the deal on renewing this year. With the addition of HD broadcasts, the at-home game watching experience has vastly improved over the years, and is more attractive each subsequent year. But the in-person experience still rules supreme, at least when you can share it with others.