I love tailgating

The smell of meat being charred on the numerous grills fills the air.
The ever so satisfying cracking sound of a beer being opened.
The fans clad in their respective teams colors from head to toe.

Whether it's a sight, sound or smell tailgating evokes many emotions. It depends on where you are but the tailgate sets the scene and tone for football. In no other sport do you have the dedication to perfecting a bratwurst or hamburger. I have learned over the years that people take their tailgating seriously, almost to the point of being over the top. Or maybe it's just passion. A friend of mine has that passion, he created the ultimate tailgating machine from a New Jersey Transit System Greyhound bus and turned it into Orange Force One.

While I'm no where near that level, I do take pride in getting the grill fired up and having all sorts of friends enjoying the cold beer, autumn air, some great grilled food while getting amped for the upcoming kickoff. I was exposed to tailgating at a very early age by my Grandfather and Grandmother. I used to join them when I was a little dude in the dirt and grass parking lot that surrounds Falcon Stadium, home of the Air Force Academy Fighting Falcons. I can vividly recall watching my grandfather pull the chairs, tables coolers and food out of the trunk of their Buick. Typically we enjoyed sandwiches, soda, chips and cookies. What more can you need? (As I found out much later in life, a grill is about the only thing and adult beverages) They had friends that they tailgated with who would park along side of them. I can remember tossing the football with my Grandfather and his friends, many times while I was still in my youth football uniform from that mornings game. Of course at this age I don't know if I had a true appreciation for what they instilled upon me. I guess every start to something has humbling beginnings, and mine date back to the early and mid eighties in the dusty parking lot at Falcon Stadium. I've found that I do the exact same things now that I did when I was 10 years old, except for the beer drinking part now. I drank scotch back then.

The time in between now and those days in Colorado Springs saw "pre-partying" in Boulder, a case of beer and a pathfinder with two buddies in San Diego, a Winnebago with every amenity in Tempe, AZ, reconnecting and actual tailgating in Boulder and going large in the parking lot at Invesco Field at Mile High. I have been lucky enough to have a bunch of great friends that love tailgating, not to mention a wonderful women who not only puts up with this affliction, but rather enjoys it herself!