30 Reasons I Love Tailgates

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Tailgate; n. An event that happens before American sports games that defines nation’s pride, spirit, ingenuity, and obesity.

That Merriam-Webster’s definition says it all. There’s NOTHING more American than a tailgate. Does an apple pie have beer? Does an apple pie have hot dogs? Does an apple pie have friendships that are purely designed around its existence? Does an apple pie have a nearby wooded area where hook-ups could happen? No. The apple pie has not one of those things, yet some people define it as the American standard. Ask any true ‘Merican and the pedestal which this country stands on is the tailgate. Tailgate season starts this weekend. Here are 30 reasons your balls should be shriveled with excited anticipation:

The guy who appoints himself chef. Takes the grill a little too seriously. Tells you what you should put on his “signature” hotdog (it’s ketchup).

The guy who would blow somebody to be the chef. He stands over the chef’s shoulder saying, “That chicken doesn’t look cooked” and, “Sometimes, I put jalapenos on that.” When the chef takes a piss, he steps in and flips everything too much so he doesn’t have to talk to chicks.

The guy who hooks up in the woods.

Woods Hook-Up Guy never needing a hookup story again.

Woods Hook-Up Guy creating a business card that says: “John Smith – I won’t leaf you alone.”

Girls in sports jerseys.

The girl who wears the “Number 10 Jersey” and gets a little too drunk and becomes known as “Number 10” for the rest of the day.

“Number 10” changing her nickname to “The Girl Who Flashed” at 2 pm.

“Girl Who Flashed” going back to “Number 10” when you think you might make a play for her.

“Number 10” becoming “Kara” once you realize she’s kind of cool and just came to have a good time.

“Kara” becoming a fucking bitch.

The guy who chugs his mimosa and calls you “some bellini drinking pussy” when you don’t join in.

The mimosa guy becoming the “Drunk Too Early Guy.”

That moment you thank God you’re not “Drunk Too Early Guy” as you watch him turn on Kelly Clarkson’s “A Moment Like This” and ask girls to slow dance.

Too Drunk Guy sleeping in the passenger seat of the car at around 3pm.

The smiles. Everyone walks around tailgates with a smile on their face that makes you wonder how they fit a blowjob giving midget in their pants.

The 40 emails I’ve gotten this week about the Penn State Tailgate this weekend.

One email that included this picture from Senior Year at 7am. A time of morning early enough to take an open door poop:
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Getting to the porta potty first. It’s like hooking up with a freshman chick before she hooks up with your buddy who wets the bed.

The sausage you eat because “it’s football Saturday, assholes are meant to bleed.”

The chicks eating the sausages for the same reason.

The “Chris Berman” guy who loudly knows too little about sports.

The guy who tries too hard to hook-up, doesn’t hook-up, and wore his “going out shirt” to a tailgate.

Bacon

Standing 700 feet away from where the beers are and yelling, “Fresh beer toss!” Then raising your hand to the sky as a Natty floats in your direction. Cradling it in, pointing at the thrower, giving a wink of acknowledgement, and moving on. No words spoken. Just wet vaginas.

The High Low (or Table Top). We did these at our tailgate. It’s what every single one of my friends remember the most. There’s a target. You have one friend kneel on all fours behind them and then you push the target over your friend on all fours. It’s that simple to give everyone some happiness only found on Christmas morning. And as discussed with my buddy Benjo on an upcoming TFM Podcast, the high low is only reserved for the friend you love or hate. Nothing in between.

The Horse Kick. The protective measure everyone at the tailgate takes to prevent from being “high lowed.” Just imagine how a horse would kick behind him. Now imagine over 50 people on a field kicking behind them like horses. You’re imagining heaven right now.

Tailgate Games that make no sense anywhere else except at a tailgate. My favorite being the can kick. Take a can, hold it at shoulder height, then see who can touch it with their foot. Fat guys make the game look hilarious, fit guys make it interesting, and the guy who kicks the can holder in the balls makes it awesome.

Shotgunning enthusiasts. The guy who picks up everyone’s “finished” shotgunning cans to see who has half of their beer left then presents it like he’s Rafiki presenting Simba to the kingdom.

Chicks that dress up. The thought and effort that went into a day that deserves no thought and effort at all is really something special. On the other end, the girl who dressed like she’s some sort of whacky mascot (i.e. Michigan girls) gets put to shame.

Tailgates in general. I want to have my children delivered inside one of those ready-made tents, sausages grilling, while holding my koozied beer, so that I can honestly say that my child’s birth was the happiest moment of my life.

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