Every person you’ve drunkenly met at a tailgate this semester

Saturdays, the meatheads at Barstool Sports would have you believe, are for the boys. For shotgunning chilled pisswater beer, vomiting outside Porta potties, and, of course, college football.

As the regular season draws to a halt, it’s time to reflect on the year that’s just passed. Not so much on the results, as the colorful characters we met in parking lots and frat rows up and down the country.

So let’s hear it for…

The one who insists he isn't drunk (he is)

Standing next to the keg trying to get someone to “just do one keg stand, come on don’t be lame,” he refuses to drink water because he “don’t need it.” He keeps making himself vomit so he can drink more. Eventually he is kicked out of the game ten minutes after getting in because he picked a fight with a security guard.

The one who’s trying to relive the glory days

Who’s that guy pointing out every landmark from his time there? You’re damn right he’s brought his two-year-old, whose face he painted. Catch him talking about how it was “so much better when they were a student.” Desperate to make friends with all the college kids, you watch bemused as he takes a hit of a joint and has to go back to the hotel and lie down.

The freshman girl

Bleary eyed and screaming, she wears an oversized t-shirt with spandex. She made a sketchy mixed drink in her dorm with soda from the dining hall and alcohol that a senior bought her. She has no sense of time — to her, it could be 11am or 11pm. Regardless she keeps asking if she can nap on your couch after.

The one who no-one knows

Hammered out of his mind and having the time of his life, you suspect he just wandered up but no one knows for sure how he got there. Very insistent on trying to find out if you have a mutual friend in common, even though chances are he’s secretly a townie.

The one who falls asleep in the trunk of a car

You first see her downing shots at 8am, insisting she can keep this up “all day.” Suddenly she disappears from the group, and is found hours later in the car with a slice of pizza crusted onto her face. She misses the game and it takes her the rest of the weekend to recover.

The man who thinks he’s on the coaching staff

He wears wrap-around Oakleys, a polo shirt with the school’s logo on it, khaki shorts with pulled-up white socks. He talks about every recruit as if he knows them personally, and he carries a radio around to hear the commentary because the fans around them “don’t understand the intricacies of the game.” His first name is a last name and he thinks Kaepernick should stand for the anthem. He longs to be stood on the touchline, surrounded by much bigger men in pads, gesticulating at cryptic flashcards, hoping his players can make sense of his message through their concussion-filled putty-brains. But he’s a secondhand truck salesman, and the only side he’ll call the shots on is his son’s peewee team at middle school.

The one who eats ALL the food, but brought nothing

He always says he “forgot” to bring something, repeatedly apologizes with a mouth full of food. Catch him double-fisting hot dogs for the walk to the game, greedy fuck.

The girl hitting on all the dads

“Haha, wow I’d love a jello syringe,” says the DILF-Hunter 3000, ass spilling out of her jorts. With eye make-up in school colors and a Tinder range of 34-55+, expect to see her named in a divorce settlement near you. Can you blame her though – frat guys are gross, who doesn’t need a bit of daddi in their world?

The top-tier fraternity brother

He wears Ray Bans, football jersey and un-tied Timberlands, and had two fried eggs and three vodka shots for breakfast . With a bottle of Grey Goose in hand, he wants you to play the latest Kendrick so he can rap the one verse he knows. Chances are he’s already talking about going out after, and will smack your ass and laugh after you ask him not to. If you get lucky, he might start throwing cash.

The bottom-tier fraternity brother

He is incredibly touchy-feely considering he just met you. He wears flannel, jeans, a school t-shirt, and he put on a temporary face tattoo, but washed it off in the middle of the tailgate because he got self-conscious. Never seen without a Natty Ice in his hand. He doesn't understand social cues so continues to talk to you even though you've been trying to end the conversation to go get a beer. Hard pass.

The uptight parents

They’re unnerved by all the hard liquor but are trying to be cool about it. Chill out gramps, it’s legal in Europe. They can’t stop talking about how they met on campus, and have dressed their dog in school spiritwear.

The die-hard fan

He is in full body paint in school colors, constantly screaming the fight song. Will write a seven-paragraph essay on Facebook after the game, win or lose. Very active on SB Nation. Probably the most forlorn figure you will see dejectedly walking home.

The significant other

She arrived with her partner, and finds herself awkwardly hanging out with the group, casually laughing stories they don’t know. Devolves into scrolling through Instagram on her phone before making excuses and “having to leave early.”

The ones supporting the rival school

They drove 14 hours to be there, and practiced their gloating post-win grin for half of that. The only thing they’re bringing to the table in terms of conversation is direct comparison between their school and yours. “Well OUR tight end…” They brought their own coozies. Surplus to requirements.

The pack of sorority girls

There are at least six of them, but no more than 10. Wearing matching shirts because they’re not allowed to drink in their letters, they immediately head for the nearest elevated surface and demand a photoshoot. Inexplicably gained control over the handle of vodka, and are unwilling to relinquish it for anyone outside of their pledge class. Half will make it to the game, the other half will Postmates McDonald’s and call it a night.

The ex-homecoming king

He keeps talking about how he used to run this place, and is still wearing his sash from three years ago. Now he works for a not-for-profit now and won’t stop telling you about it. Lives in DC with six roommates, “just outside of the city”, but dresses the same as he did in junior year.

The fighter

“Let’s GO, brah!” He is convinced that you “pushed him” in a backyard packed with like 500 people. He smells like pent-up masculine energy and Marlboro Reds, but will cry from embarrassment if you actually hit him in the face.

The football hater

She’s happy to let you know that she’s only here for the booze and still says things like “sportsball” and “dunk a touchdown.” She can only name football players who get joked about in the college meme group. She wears black because school spirit isn’t her thing, but still gets just as wasted as the actual fans. She can be convinced to go to the game, but will leave after a quarter because she has no idea what’s happening on the field. Instagrams it away.