ATHENS — The hardest thing is getting out of bed. At least it was for this tailgater.
Because of a confluence of circumstances, some friends recently asked for assistance with setting up their tailgate. This is unique for me because I’ve been a sportswriter for 35 years, the past 27 with The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. That means I don’t tailgate. Or, more accurately, I don’t tailgate for long if I do. I certainly don’t plan, organize or set up tailgates.
But in recent years, I have made friends with a particular group of people who call their six-times-per-fall campus gathering the “Take No Prisoners” (TNP) tailgate. They’ve been staging it on Field Street for more than 20 years.
On a recent Saturday this fall, nobody in the core group was available to handle the most important responsibility of any tailgate. That is to claim one’s space on campus first thing in the morning on game day.
In most cases, Georgia tailgaters have reserved spaces in regulated lots designated by an athletics-department-issued parking permit. But for more than a few fans, tailgating on Georgia’s campus remains squatter’s-rights proposition.
That is the case with the TNP tailgate. To claim their prime perch not far outside of Gate 8A right behind Sanford Stadium’s south side, somebody must get there early. Real early.
About 18 years ago, UGA enacted a policy change where the campus was closed to tailgaters until 7 a.m. on game days. Accordingly, I was at the corner of Cedar Street and Sanford Drive with my loaded-down pick-up truck at 6:45 a.m. that Saturday. I was first in line because, in my case at least, there was no line.
Credit: Chip Towers
Credit: Chip Towers
Joining the club
First, a little background. My wife Christy and I are not full-fledged TNP’ers. We were adopted out of pity several years ago. I was running late to get to my designated media parking space behind the stadium’s southside press box and arrived with the Homeland Security barricade already erected. That goes up across Field Street 2½ hours before kickoff and, in case one was not aware, that barricade comes down for no one.
Backing down Field Street in shame, there happened to be a spare space in front of the TNP Tailgate that day. Out of compassion, they let me park there. But with a caveat.
“Only if you bring some chicken next week,” TNP tailgater David Lilliston said.
Dutifully, I came back with some Publix fried chicken the next Saturday. I’ve made a point to visit the TNP tailgate every home game since.
The rest of this group mostly are UGA and Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity alumni from the 1980s, though attendance has fluctuated over the years. They have been gathering on Georgia game days in one place or another ever since.
“We were previously in the old Bolton Hall parking lot until the Athletic Association kicked us out,” said Lilliston, a “Sig Ep” alum from UGA and co-captain of the TNP tailgate. “We were trying to figure out where we could move to when Clardy said, ‘I have a Field Street pass.’ We were not warmly embraced at first, but we’ve gotten to know everybody over the years and I think we’ve kind of grown on them.”
Rick Clardy is co-captain and a founding member of Take No Prisoners. The second-generation dentist from Dublin also is a UGA Sig Ep alum, and it’s his family that holds the clout with UGA Athletics.
Clardy’s family has been contributing to UGA’s general scholarship fund for more than 50 years. That is reflected in Clardy’s season-ticket allotment, which numbers 12. Several of them are in the club level, which they’ve been sitting in since it was built.
Clardy believes TNP has been on Field Street now for about 25 years, though no one can agree on that number. They’ve become known for the flags they fly that mark their territory each week. On one end is a University of Georgia “Power G” flag. On the other is the flag of whatever team is playing Georgia Tech that particular Saturday. The weekend I packed us in, I hoisted a Duke flag.
Thanks to that tradition, Clardy now owns dozens of flags of schools he otherwise would have no interest in. It can be a challenge, like a couple of years ago when Tech played Florida A&M. But Clardy found a Rattlers’ flag, and it now resides in Dublin with the others.
Watch: Georgia fans share their tailgating essentials
Credit: Sarah K. Spencer/Ryon Horne
Securing a space
The complication of Field Street is that TNP has only one parking pass for this highly controlled area very close to the stadium. Meanwhile, none of the half-dozen spaces on the west end of that street are expressly reserved. Depending on the magnitude of the game, sometimes there may be a spillover of vehicles from the network broadcast crew.
Charged with the unenviable task of managing the traffic-cone-based system is Sandi Behr. Some Georgia sports fans might recognize the name. Behr has long worked at UGA and was the administrative assistant for the Bulldogs’ basketball coaches going back to Hugh Durham. Currently, she’s an administrator at the UGA Golf Course.
Behr has helped oversee game-day parking for “at least 20 years.” The last 10 or so have been on Field Street. It’s a thankless job but it does get her access to games and an occasional brush with celebrity. CBS football and golf broadcaster Verne Lundquist is a personal favorite. She’s also gotten to know ESPN’s Kirk Herbstreit and his dogs, the late “Ben” and his replacement “Pete.”
“All of the various TV announcers calling the games come through,” Behr says. “I’ve met Gov. (Brian) Kemp, and the Notre Dame mascot was great. The leprechaun caused quite a lot of excitement and hung out for a while. So many former basketball players, swimmers, coaches, SEC VIPs, school presidents come through. And, of course, Barbara Dooley.”
Ah, yes, the incomparable Barbara Dooley. The wife of the late legend Vince Dooley always gets a space whenever she decides to attend a game. That’s still often but less than before.
Thousands descend
Tailgating represents a sort of love-hate relationship between football fans and the university. Everybody loves it, but the impact on campus can be harsh between the physical wear-and-tear on the landscape, accumulation of trash and the sheer grind of logistics, regulation-enforcement and game-day operations.
UGA Athletics said it issues about 8,000 parking passes per game. The university issues hundreds more.
It used to be much more relaxed. Many years ago, fans just parked wherever they could find an open patch of ground. And they didn’t always wait until Saturday to claim it.
On the weeks of particularly big games, cars and recreational vehicles might start claiming spaces on Tuesday or Wednesday. That’s why the university in 2006 closed the campus to tailgating until 7 a.m. on the day of games. For UGA’s pristine North Campus, the window remains limited to five hours before kickoff.
The restrictions were well-earned.
Longtime operations employees say they started to get complaints from students, faculty and staff. Those who lived in residence halls would be awakened by all-night parties and employees would show up for work to find their parking spaces occupied.
That’s also when recreational vehicles were pushed out to designated areas off campus. Several privately owned lots now are located on the edges of campus and around town.
It’s worthwhile to have a fully sanctioned space to tailgate. The competition for territory is not always friendly.
University police once had to respond to the Legion Pool, where two men pulled guns. The altercation started because one person allegedly urinated on the other’s car tire, according to reports.
In another incident in which authorities were called, a woman in her 70s was lying on the ground underneath the back end of an RV trying to back in. The woman refused to move. She was determined to save the space for her tailgating group, which had not yet arrived.
Again, police intervened, and the situation ended peacefully. For the record, the RV got the space.
Dedicated fans
The TNP Tailgate has had to battle for its territory as well, though not quite as dramatically. Clardy, Lilliston or Bill Holden (a Vanderbilt graduate but lifelong Bulldogs fan) rise before dawn before each home game to haul in tents, chairs, rugs, flags, coolers and other tailgating supplies. Once the Field Street location is secured, others will trek in from their designated parking spaces scattered throughout campus.
Credit: Chip Towers
Credit: Chip Towers
The Holdens, who live in Atlanta, bought a condominium on Baxter Street several years ago to ease the burden. The group will gather at their place in the case of inclement weather or particularly cold Saturdays. There has been no such need this season.
The others park in the South Parking Deck, the Carlton Street Deck or wherever they can pay for a space. For UGA Athletics, game-day parking has become an area of increased interest with regard to revenue generation. A plan is in place to create more controlled parking lots, which would come with a minimum-donation requirement as well as a modest fee.
Lilliston, a Watkinsville-based financial planner, usually handles the load-in responsibilities because he’s local. But on the Saturday of the Auburn game this season, Lilliston was delayed by other business, Clardy had to assist his father in storm-ravaged southeast Georgia and Holden wasn’t available.
Knowing I’m a sportswriter and had nowhere else to be but the Georgia football game on Saturday, Lilliston asked me if I could do it. Why not, I thought? Having covered games weekly going back to college, I hadn’t experienced the “joy” of setting up a tailgate.
Today, I share my admiration and respect for the University of Georgia’s dedicated tailgating community. In two words, it’s hard work.
It started with a Friday trip to the Lillistons to load up my truck. That meant hauling chairs, tables, coolers, tents and other equipment out of his basement. There’s a specific order to load, of course, with rugs and flags going on the bottom and the heavier stuff on top.
The alarm went off at 5:45 a.m. Saturday, and I was on my way well before 7. I had to allow time for a stop by the convenience store to buy ice. This just in: Tailgating requires lots of ice.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when I arrived. Behr already was there and directed me to the third parking space from the top of the hill, saved via orange traffic cone.
My main mission was just to secure the area. That was easily achieved by simply placing the two rugs over the pine straw-covered easement and setting up the chairs and tables. We’d erect the tents and flags later when there were more hands on deck.
The food — chicken wings in this case — also came later. Donna Holden organizes rotating menus via a group text. The main course is chosen by couples who alternate preparation throughout the season. Pot-luck style, everybody contributes sides, desserts and, of course, liquid nourishment.
It’s a painstaking process repeated thousands of times over each Saturday in the fall, in Athens and Tuscaloosa and Oxford and all over the U.S. Tailgaters represent the most dedicated of college football fans.
Having an aged father and needing to drive from Dublin along with his wife, Wendy, on football weekends, Clardy declared at a recent TNP tailgate, “this might be my last year.”
Bill Holden nearly spit out his beer. “This will be Clardy’s fifth ‘last year’ by my count,” he said with a laugh. “At least.”
It’s a labor of love shared by many. One more now.
