What’s Really Happening at That Mysterious Tailgate Across the Lot?
Is there anything more soul-crushing than setting up for a tailgate and realizing, with mounting dread, that your party is the “before” photo and someone else’s is basically Times Square on New Year’s Eve? One minute you’re chewing through a sandwich that’s more bread than meat, the next you’re watching the “Sauce Posse” living their best lives with flat-screens, gourmet grills, and—let’s face it—a suspiciously high number of frozen margaritas. I’ll admit it: there’s something tragically comic about nursing a warm Bud Light on a cracked Igloo cooler, wondering if offering up your last tube of Pringles could buy you an invite to the party across the line of faded parking space paint. It’s envy, yes, but the kind of envy with a side order of Subway lettuce and a sprinkle of existential dread. Curious to see just how far a glum group of tailgaters will go to upgrade their game, or perhaps just their beverage selection? LEARN MORE.

EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ—After divvying up a Bud Light six-pack and soggy Subway sandwiches purchased at an I-87 rest stop, a glum group of tailgaters in Section J of the MetLife Stadium parking lot confirmed Sunday that the tailgate across from them looked way more fun. “Damn, those guys brought a portable generator just to power the flat-screen and speaker system in their pickup bed,” said one Section J tailgater sitting on a cracked Igloo cooler, enviously eyeing the neighboring crew—identified as “the Sauce Posse” by the large flag waving above their green-and-white canopy tent—as they grilled a variety of meats on a Big Green Egg, played drinking games around a tower of Solo cups, and tossed their heads back in laughter from all the fun they were having. “And look, they got a bunch of girls to come hang out with them. It’s like a full-on party now. Maybe it’d be cool if we went over and asked for one of their frozen margs. We could offer to share our Pringles.” At press time, sources confirmed the Section J tailgaters were quietly looming near the Sauce Posse under the pretense of checking scores on their TV.














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