The Tailgater Tribe Ceremonial feasting precedes ritual gaming of the Duck clan. Story by Lance Sparks | Photos by Linda Smogor As an avid amateur anthropologist, I have spent much of my career documenting various aspects of the socio-cultural values and behaviors of primitive and post-primitive tribes of the Northwest. I have published extensively -- in columns, essays and articles -- to report my researches into such diverse subjects as mating patterns (courtship rituals and potions, wedding rites), psycho-sexual obsessions with transportation devices (auto collecting and boat restoration), consumption of raw and cooked foods and beverages (restaurants, wines), and other behaviors manifested in the geographic area of the United States usually called Orygun (sometimes OreGone). Rarely, though, have I had the opportunity to study a complex cultural performance that represents such a nexus of tribal values, mores, rituals and behaviors as the phenomenon known as "tailgating." When the editor of this publication asked me if I would visit one of these events, I naturally felt some trepidation. As we will see, these activities are highly charged with emotion and could constitute some risk for anyone who might be suspected of being a member of another, competing tribe (particularly any who might be associated with the hated tribe whose totemic animal is the fierce Beaver, or any recognized as "Dawgs"). Nevertheless, I leapt at this opportunity. Below, I will show that these activities, while not altogether rare, are seasonal and to some degree dependent on the record of success or failure of the tribe's representative warrior group, or "team" in competitions of ritual battle with other "teams"; hence, this assignment might be curtailed by potential conditions called "off" (or "rebuilding") seasons when "tailgating" can be particularly grim or sparsely attended (cf. "Tailgating at Gill/Reser Stadium, 1979-99"). In the following, through textual descriptions and photographs, we hope to reveal some important aspects of the phenomenon of tailgating. While our researches do not pretend to be exhaustive, and additional funding of further investigations is clearly indicated, we will try to show various anthropologically interesting motifs of the tailgater. We will begin with time, location and the "triggering event"; methods and strategies; then consider class stratification in parking patterns; tribal identification and solidarity mechanisms in costumes, colors, signs, emblems, totems, symbols and fetishes; feeding customs with associated foods and beverages; linguistic patterns of cries, calls, greetings and invocations; and, finally, ritualistic injunctions oriented to a certain emblematic flower and container, viz., a Rose Bowl. Time, Location, Event: Photographer Linda Smogor and I met in the early hours of Saturday, Nov. 11 of this year, near Autzen Stadium, within walking distance. Autzen Stadium is the venue for both the tailgating and its "triggering event," the "game." According to Levi-Strauss, games are "disjunctive" activities that may separate societies, while a tailgater is clearly a "conjunctive" event that serves to promote cohesiveness among the tribe. Briefly, the "game" (called "football") involves representative "teams" of young warriors (11 per side) in symbolic warfare and controlled violence. Through various methods, the "players" attempt to transport a "ball" -- an inflated rubber bladder covered in pig hide — across a demarked area (the "field," also called "the rug") to the other team's "goal," scoring "points" that add up to VICTORY OVER THE STINKING BEAVERS or other totemic animals. This date marked the last "home game" of the 2000 season. We expected, therefore, that the "tailgating" activities would be particularly intense, especially as the scheduled contest involved an encounter with the sometimes-fearsome "Bears" from the tribal region of California. Before walking to the "stadium," Smogor and I donned costumes of deep emerald green and gold, marked with appropriate symbols and words, such as UNIVERSITY OF OREGON. These, we hoped, would provide us with some protective coloration when we encountered particularly excited members of the tribe we intended to study, known as "The Ducks" or sometimes as "Quacker Backers." (I should note that even with the costumes, we later crossed paths with at least one Duck -- equilibrium and focus clearly impaired -- who was aggressively suspicious that we might be "Beavers" in disguise. He was restrained by other members of his sub-clan.) The day had dawned cold and clear, and tailgaters had begun gathering in the pre-dawn hours. Later, Dave "Duck" O'Shea (holder of "season tickets" since 1959) would tell us that he and his crew rolled in at 5:30 am when "The ice was still frozen in the outhouses." By 8:30 of that frosty morning, when Smogor and I found a low hill from which to survey the scene, many acres of the gravel parking lot had already filled with rows of vehicles of various sizes and models -- huge motor homes and coaches, campers, SUVs, family sedans and station wagons, trucks from small pick-ups to semi tractors, even motorcycles. Though the growing light revealed a clear, powder blue sky, fingers of fog reached around the lot from the nearby Willamette River, wafting through tall stands of golden cottonwoods, maples and poplars. The air was rife with aromas of woodsmoke from campfires, acrid fumes of lighter fluid, burning charcoal, unburned gasoline and diesel, searing meats, tobacco smoke, and the tang of autumn leaves. Everywhere in the freezing air, people gathered around their demarked areas to unload cooking utensils and huge containers of food to be laid out on various forms of tables. Loyalty displays abounded: flags, banners, streamers, pennants, signs, all in the distinctive green-and-gold tribal colors, many bearing symbols, slogan, icons and emblems, frequently the totemic animal, an aggressive figure of a "Fighting Duck." (Note: in the natural world, these creatures are not usually noted as particularly predatory; nor is the enemy totem figure, the much-despised Beaver. There may be dissertation material in this disparity.) Methods and Strategies: From our vantage, Smogor and I planned to simply walk slowly through rows of vehicles and milling "fans," asking for interviews and taking our photographs when and where we received welcoming gestures and words. We did not attempt to quantify our experience, choosing a qualitative approach for these essentially preliminary inquiries. A much larger and better equipped team ( with a much larger budget) may be necessary for an in-depth study at some future time. Class Structure and Stratification in Parking: We noted that larger and more elaborate vehicles had taken the places nearest the entrance to the bowl-shaped arena on the gravel, but the spots nearer still, many on paved surface, were actually marked with specific family or corporate names; for example, the parking spaces closest to the actual entrance were clearly reserved for someone named Phil Knight, perhaps a cult figure or person of high social, economic or religious standing. Large parking areas were roped off and patrolled by low-level officials; these were reserved for a class of individuals called "donors" who paid large sums to have their positions guarded until their arrival. Even though prime spaces had been reserved, we found that some "'gaters" (vernacular term) had held the same spot for years. Tribal Identification: As previously noted, colors play a large role in defining tribal membership, green and gold dominating. (We found one car flying red and black balloons, colors suspiciously close to the orange-and-black of the hated Beavers; this caused some ominous grumbling among passing fans; the driver remained inside with the windows rolled up.) People and vehicles were also adorned with emblems, golden Os or UOs on green, or representations of the Duck. As we have said, this figure seems to have totemic power for the tribe; the dashboards, interiors or rear decks of many vehicles held literally dozens of Duck dolls and figurines, and one woman proudly pointed to her extensive display, calling it "My shrine," indicating, perhaps, that the Duck may have something approaching mythic status. Feeding Customs: At each enclave where we appeared welcome, we asked what foods were being prepared and served for the event. Predictably, we found a wide variety of menus: a huge number of "chips" (corn and potato) with "dips" (bean, cheese, onion, avocado); some salads and raw vegetables, also with dips. We saw being cooked massive amounts of meats, including lamb and pork (baby back ribs) but particularly beef in the form of steaks, roasts, chops, hamburgers, sausages, chilis, stews, casseroles, tacos and cold cuts. One man suggested they might cook some bear meat; this caused a nearby woman some discomfort until the idea was admitted to be a "joke." "I know someone who'll do it," she said. Deidre Jackson, self-proclaimed Tailgater of the Year, set a table with a shrine-like vase full of red roses and yellow and green cake; obviously a member of a regional sub-clan, her foods for the day were Gardenburgers and tofu dogs. Lack of meat protein seemed in no way to reduce her passion for Ducks. At Bob Chambers' massive Marathon motor coach, the side of the rig was opened to uncover a large-screen Sony TV with sound speakers the size of a baby's crib; nearby, a full-size turkey was deep-frying in peanut oil. Whole clans can be involved. Under a large white tent, the Hillier family had trekked from the distant village of Bend to cook for a large interest group called the Lumber Association. Greg Hillier, "president" of the association, oversaw operations. His brother Kevin operated a huge grill. Their wives, Janna and Tammy, had prepared foods, and clothed and decorated tables. The mater familia , Mary Lee Hillier, laughed that she was "just here to do the dishes," though she seemed quite active. Three excited, laughing women -- Darla Rose, Dorothy Isabell, Darlene Goodwin -- recalled having spent 30 years in these activities. They had cooked chili, hot dogs and "good luck duck wings" (!). Ethnologist Emile Durkheim (1912) noted that it is usually taboo to cook and eat the totemic animal, but these women apparently considered good fortune to follow consumption of totemic flesh. (Note: Other invocations of fortune abounded, including one woman who noted that her small daughter had worn "her lucky underpants.") This constitutes only a partial list of the festive foods. Of great interest is many adult 'gaters' consumption of vast quantities of fermented beverages, especially those made from malted hops and grains, often called "brews" and bearing such names as Coors, Henry's, Corona and many more. By 10:30 in the morning, the lot was littered with large numbers of empty containers; frequently, small children collected the empties on behalf of a charity benefiting children's sports. Other alcoholic beverages appeared in hands and on tables, with names such as Dewar's, Johnny Walker, Rebel Yell, Smirnoff and Wild Turkey. It seems clear that imbibing these liquids contributes to increased fervor for the team. We plan to test this hypothesis at a later date. Linguistic Patterns: Language use at these festivities is heavily laden with certain repeated calls and cries. For example, the phrase "GO DUCKS!" was often shouted in greeting or in parting, within members of enclaves and between passing strangers. To these were sometimes added war cries, especially "KILL THE BEAVERS!" -- an odd call, since that day's "game" involved the Bear tribe. Perhaps this indicated that many "fans" were more concerned about the next contest than about the current one. We also heard used, among adolescent males particularly, shouted calls and answers that sounded like "WAZZUPPP!" The meaning is unclear. Ritual Injunctions: The tribal members, as we mentioned above, seemed heavily invested, emotionally and even financially, in the pursuit of a certain vessel holding a certain flower. They call this the Rose Bowl, and we heard this referred to as "the GRANDMOTHER of all bowls!" We are still not altogether sure what this implies, but there seemed some implication that if the Ducks could somehow capture this container, the tribe would consider themselves champions over all other tribes; the more frenzied members sometimes accompanied expression of such views with the phrase "BCS THIS!" As we were departing the area of the tailgater and the stadium was filling with what grew to a crowd of more than 45,000 frenzied "Duck Faithful," we heard the ultimate injunction in a powerful cry, "GO DUCKS! GO FOR ALL THE ROSES!" (Next year.) Table of Contents | News & Views | Arts & Entertainment Classifieds | Personals | EW Archive