In the vale of old Mt. Nittany lie 30 acres of intramural ball fields, kite-flying hillsides and onetime pastures that undergo a yearly transformation, becoming, from September through November, verdant parking lot picnic grounds for some 18,000 vans, cars, recreation vehicles and other sundry transport for the 80,000 spectators who fill Beaver Stadium on football Saturdays and indulge in the social phenomenon known as tailgating.
Past Penn Stater issues have described this pre- and post-game feasting as the bacchanalian highlight of University Park’s fall season, and have even shared the favorite tailgate recipes of alumni restaurateurs who tuck a gourmet touch into all their picnic baskets. But those are spotlight items. What about the nitty gritty—the who, what, how, when, where, and especially the why?
Pat Farrell ’56, ’72g, with a doctorate in recreation and parks and a faculty position as head of that department for the College of Health, Physical Education and Recreation, was both naturally and professionally curious to analyze this increasingly popular recreational pursuit that began mushrooming as Penn State football became Big Time. So she gathered a team of student researchers to spend an entire football season combing the parking lots looking for statistical data to define the tailgate species.
The subjects for the study were nonstudents selected at the convenience of the researchers. All parking lots surrounding the stadium were surveyed and 537 tailgaters cooperated with the team. Some of their responses were predictable, some were not. All were interesting.
So, who does tailgate at Penn State football games? Almost everyone who attends: Neither age nor occupation nor alumni status separates the tailgaters from the non-tailgaters, the survey shows. Dr. Farrell’s statistics reveal tailgaters to be generally representative of the population spread within the Commonwealth, except that about 60 percent of them are men. They also show that only 25 percent are Penn State graduates, another 27 percent graduated from other institutions, and 48 percent have not completed a college degree. Income levels and occupations were not significant definers.
Finding out the why of tailgating also involved, to some extent, the where. While a municipal parking lot is not conducive to gracious outdoor dining, the unique environment and location of Beaver Stadium—which permits parking for all within a half-mile of the field and surrounds the setting with a spectacular fall view—is ideal.
Fun and sociability, regardless of the game, were the most common answers when the researchers asked, “Why?”
“Satisfying the hungries was mentioned frequently, but not as the first-choice reason,” Farrell reported, deleting all comments about the availability of dining opportunities between State College and Harrisburg.
A fourth popular reason, stated by 20 percent as the most important, was to be in an aesthetically pleasing place away from home pressures and responsibilities. The trip to Happy Valley, tailgating before and after, were, they said, what football games were all about.
The vehicles providing headquarters for the tailgating parties come in all shapes and sizes—cars, trucks carrying pianos, fancy recreation vehicles with colorful awnings, one conveyance with a five-note horn rigged to the tune of “Hail to the Lion,” even sailboats trailered in for the Navy game. (Still, there was some feeling among the researchers that tailgating may have been invented, developed and promoted by Coleman and Winnebago.)
Seventy-five percent of the tailgaters gather for every home game and, like the Pony Express, they persevere regardless of the weather, some arriving as early as Friday evening and remaining as late as Sunday afternoon. Early staking out of parking lot territory is getting to be a critical assignment, one frequently entrusted to a local member of the party, Farrell reported.
Tailgaters organize not just for a total season but for years, the study revealed, showing a range from first-timers to those who had been doing it for as long as 47 years, with 75 percent reporting that they had tailgated for 10 years. The average for all tailgaters was six years.
As part of their data collecting process, the research team gathered information on menus. Their conclusion: “It’s a thirsty crowd.” Beer, liquor, and soft drinks were the favorites, while juice and tea were popular to less than a quarter of those surveyed. And hardly any spread was devoid of snack foods—veggies, crackers, chips and what Farrell calls “general-type junk food.” Cheeses and cold sandwiches were next in popularity.
Since food preparation is critical to an ostentatious tailgate spread, food assignments for each member of the party are standard practice. And sandwiches prepared prior to arrival at the parking area are considered not nearly so elegant as spreading an array of “fixings” on an unfolded table (using the vehicle’s actual tailgate is rare).
“Platters of meat, cheese, lettuce, an assortment of spreads, bread and rolls created an impressive sight. Sandwiches wrapped in cellophane would be definitely tacky,” Farrell concluded.
Collecting time-budget data on living patterns from 5 p.m. Friday until the tailgate interview Saturday morning, researchers were not surprised to discover a good portion of the time devoted to party preparations. Respondents were asked to note whether or not they viewed any event during that time period as a leisure experience. It was noteworthy that those preparing the food for the tailgate did not view the activity as “leisure” while those responsible for getting the vehicle and gear in shape did call it a leisure experience.
“As you may have surmised,” Farrell said, “the usual pattern was for women to prepare the food while the men readied the equipment.”
“For those who saved the preparation of food until reaching the stadium, all possible techniques were employed,” Farrell reported. “The recreation vehicle folks had whatever was needed, but their indoor cooking facilities gave them no chance to demonstrate their expertise to the passing crowds. Brave chefs fired up gas stoves and charcoal grills outdoors and displayed their talents by frying everything from hot dogs to oysters. And usually men were observed doing the cooking.”
The survey team avoided any attempt at evaluating tailgate fare. “Our research protocol prohibited us from tasting all items proffered, but thank you for all the invitations,” is Farrell’s message to those who cooperated in the project.
Concluding her observations on the survey results—only a portion of which are reported here—Farrell said:
“Perhaps the most satisfying finding in the entire study was that Penn State football tailgaters are a similar group of people. In every attempt to compare responses, the result was: no significant difference. Regardless of age, occupation, tailgate vehicle, salary, education, etc., the crowd in the parking lots is an enormous homogeneous family gathered to have a wonderful leisure experience.”
