Fans You'll Meet at Tailgate This Fall
Oh, fall. You coy, autumnal lass—reeking of Dunkel and pumpkin-infused decadence.
It's a time for pigskin, 500-calorie coffee and gross overreaction to pleasant weather. Best of all, it's time to return to the human zoo. It's time to tailgate.
The following is a breakdown of the different species of tailgater you'll be dealing with this fall. Some are more savory than others, and all will most certainly find their way into your path at some juncture in the near future.
The Grill Master
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Ah, yes. The Grill Master: Lord of the meat. Searer of flesh. Toaster of buns. Archangel of the open flame for whom the bell tolls and the bratwurst rolls, answering to neither time nor passive-aggressive inquiries regarding the status of the hot dogs.
There are different levels of Grill Master, varying from Top Chef to guy who happens to be holding the spatula. They are not created equal, but all are ambidextrous insofar as their ability to turn and flip meats with one hand while steadily drinking beer with the other.
They are innovative to a fault and will make do with sticks found on the ground in the inevitable event that you forget to bring grill utensils.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Nightclub DJ
The Guy Nobody Knows
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Who are you, Guy Who Nobody Knows?
Where did you come from? What gust of chance brought you fluttering in here, so bamboozled, so alone, but standing nearby with one of our beers?
The Guy Who Nobody Knows is a necessary staple in the tailgating community. He doesn't know what to do with his hands or life and spends the majority of time fidgeting next to his friend who knows somebody. Do not shun him, but instead, treat him like a journeyman monk. Invite him into your klatsch, ply him with meat and drinks. Ask him for a story and learn about his people.
You'll find common ground, or at the very least, you'll have made sure the universe will smile upon you the next time you are the Guy Who Nobody Knows.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Friend-of-a-friend at your birthday party
The Hoopster
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Human beings just want to stand out. To be someone.
When we're not working or uploading pictures of food to the Internet, we spend our time doing things to make other people like us. Some of us try to be funny, others throw around money. And then there are guys who wear basketball jerseys to football games, for no other reason than they actively want everyone to know they are terrible.
These people are hoopsters, and they constantly pat themselves on the back for their avant-garde life decision to wear Shawn Kemp jerseys whenever possible.
They wear khaki shorts and skip leg day. Their life code boils down to "WWJamalMashburnDo?" They are the worst.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Vegan evangelist
.jpg?w=256 "Colts Jaguars Football")
The Walking Dead
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The glazed eyes. The 1,000-yard stare. The T-shirt with the neck stretched down past the collarbone.
These are telltale hallmarks of the Walking Dead, a species of incredibly inebriated tailgater with a penchant for stumbling about in a serpentine pattern.
You cannot fix the Walking Drunk. They have passed over to the other side. All you can do is fold them up neatly and place them in the nearest truck bed. They'll figure it out.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Sleepy toddler
The Cooler Plunderer
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If they're good at what they do, you will never meet the Cooler Plunderer.
If they're bad at their art, you'll find the CP elbow-deep in your Igloo, rummaging around for banquet beers as they go about their livelihood as the raccoon bandits of the tailgate fields.
The larger your tailgate (or the more college-y), the more likely you are to attract Cooler Plunderers. They slink in from your blind side, weaving through the crowd and grabbing beers. If you've ever endeavored in these kinds of lowbrow shenanigans before, you know the key is looking like you belong.
You do not belong. You are a common thief and will be prosecuted to the full extent of Sharia law if captured.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Leftovers assassin
The Aggressive Alumnus
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We all miss college.
Even if you didn't go to college, you've watched College GameDay and thought, "This seems like more fun than people should ever have." And you're right.
A solid undergrad experience is the leading cause of double chins and deep-seated nostalgia in adults 23-35. You graduate with the college bug and spend the next seven or 40 years trying to recreate that level of joy in your life.
Thus we find ourselves returning to campus for tailgates and the like, looking to get a familiar whiff of that old, glory-day zephyr. But some people take it too far.
Where most alumni come back to their old stomping grounds like a seasoned Hall of Famer, the Aggressive Alumnus hits the scene like a freshman on Welcome Week. Zero restraint is shown and decorum is all but abandoned as they attempt to show kids five and six years their junior that they've "still got it."
Everyday Life Equivalent: iPhone campers
The Encyclopedia Fantannica
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If you were interested in hearing about the practice squad quarterback's high school passer rating or his brief and regrettable flirtation with Marxist-Leninism, the Encyclopedia Fantannica has you covered.
The Encyclopedia Fantannica knows things only computers should know about your team. Where some fans are fountains of sports knowledge, the EFs are oil spills, hemorrhaging clouds of statistics and hearsay onto some poor soul whose only mistake was asking who they thought would win the game.
Fantannicas can and will talk to you forever. They will lead with "Did you hear about [minor player development]?" and segue into a dissertation that will end long after the cities of man have returned to dust.
Everyday Life Equivalent: CrossFit guru
The Sports Truther
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If you haven't noticed, 2014 is the year of the sports truther—or rather, the resurgence of the individual who sees Illuminati triads in John Clayton's jowls.
Honestly, truther-ism never left, and to see just how alive and, well, "crazy" the average sports fan is today, get drunk with a group of strangers at a tailgate and start throwing out feelers: "How about that last Jeter at-bat?...Think Goodell knew about [insert favorite current NFL tragedy here]?...You hear Katy Perry siphoned Trevor Knight's soul into a bread bowl?"
You'll see it doesn't take much chum to bring the truthers out of hiding and into a wide-eyed, blood frenzy of paranoia.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Stevie Wonder truthers
The Documenter
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The Noah of completely normal life events, the Documenter can be counted on to collect at least two photos of every person and thing located in your tailgate area—just in case everyone is later afflicted with amnesia and forgets what potato salad looks like.
When they're not shepherding nonplussed people into half-circles, the Documenter prides themselves on taking the finest of shaky vertical videos. Ignorant of their phone's ability to take multiple photos in rapid succession, they insist on taking multiple pictures of any group. They also would appreciate it if you would stop making the peace sign in front of your mouths, guys.
The Documenter understands life's impermanence, which is why they make sure to watch every moment through a small device.
Everyday Life Equivalent: Baby photographer
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.jpg?w=480 "Colts Jaguars Football")
