Whether in SUVs or trailers or pickups, the masses arrive shortly after dawn, laden with steel kegs and pallets of 30-packs. I'd say there's more beer shipped into the parking lots on a single Sunday than the annual production of Dock Street Brasserie, the city's largest brewpub. To the uninitiated, the scene is chaos. But there is a delicate protocol in which each driver stakes out a small piece of turf and zealously protects his boundaries. And then the party begins.
Tradition holds that the first cask is tapped shortly after a pre-game blessing at the local parish.
Judging from the green war paint slathered on their faces, I have little reason to doubt them. The hours preceding the Big Game become an exercise in maximum consumption, a direct result of the steep prices charged inside the stadium. Most revelers wisely soak up some of that alcohol with ample quantities of tailgate food. Hoagies, grilled burgers, hot dogs, steaks, ribs and shrimp are the most popular, but bigtime caterers lay out everything from boiled lobster to pig roasts. I swear I saw one group butcher a live calf and serve veal cordon bleu.