Black Gold & Grilled
Tailgating has become part of the sports DNA here in Pittsburgh Steelers Country. It's a cherished tradition whose roots grow deeper and its appeal grows wider with the passing years. Find out what fuels this cultural phenomenon (besides beer, that is).
By Melissa Rayworth
Illustration by Steven Salerno
Photos by Laura Petrilla
It's 6 p.m. on a cloudless Sunday in September. On a patch of asphalt just west of Heinz Field, Bob Sabilla of Swisshelm Park is serving up sausage and peppers with a side of creamy mac-and-cheese. His friends, dozens of them, are eating and talking. Guys in Steelers jerseys are flirting with girls in Steelers jerseys. Somebody's tending the grill. And just about everybody is helping him- or herself to cold beer from the tap, which has been permanently attached to the side of Sabilla's black-and-gold, amazingly customized truck.
Meanwhile, over on the east side of Heinz Field, Dale Yakish is grilling lamb chops. His truck, a Christmas gift from his wife and kids, is almost as tricked out as Sabilla's. But it's got a sleeker vibe, as does his party. There's beer, of course, but there's also a bottle of wine or two. And yet, for all the posh comforts, there's no air of exclusion here: "We've got CEOs of health companies and we've got contractors," says Yakish, who lives in Beaver County. "Everybody's welcome."
Just a few hundred yards to the south, five young guys from Brooklyn huddle around a small charcoal grill. Their tailgate party is pure simplicity: car, beer, burgers. They're talking football and loving the fact that they're spending the day - the entire day - at the home of the world-champion Pittsburgh Steelers.
A good tailgate, the regulars will tell you, has room for everybody. "Doesn't matter if you're wearing a tuxedo or a bikini," says Kevin Miller, the Alabama-based publisher of Tailgater Monthly magazine. "All are welcome here. It's a rare thing when you find that type of environment."
Rare? Well, for the moment, anyway. It's actually becoming a whole lot more common.
In recent years, this beer-fueled pastime has become increasingly popular around the country, busting out of football stadiums to include NASCAR races, baseball games, hockey games, even Jimmy Buffet concerts. Wherever people congregate before a big event these days, you'll find someone grilling dinner behind his vehicle. "It has really exploded in the last five years," says Miller, whose magazine aims to have a half-million online subscribers by the end of next year. "It's not just a pastime anymore. It's an industry."
Here in Pittsburgh, regulars will tell you that tailgating has been elevated to an art form. The kind of environment Miller describes - where everybody's welcome at the party, especially if he or she is cheering on the local team - comes natural here. We love our teams; we love good food and drink, and we love gathering for some serious revelry. We're also a practical bunch: Pregame tailgating is the perfect way to offset the staggering cost of NFL ticket prices. Who wouldn't want to extend a pricey three-hour experience into a celebratory eight-hour one?
Pittsburghers swear tailgating really is different here, just as being a black-and-gold fan is different from following other teams in other places. Is it true? And if so, why has this unique and exceptional kind of tailgating sprouted in this particular spot, along the shores of the Allegheny?
Braving the heat of late summer and the chill of early fall, Pittsburgh magazine set out to explore the tailgating culture here in our sports-loving city. Wandering among the tents, RVs and even boats that form sprawling villages in the hours before games at PNC Park and especially Heinz Field, we sought out the heart of a true Pittsburgh Tailgate.
Here's a taste (sausage and peppers not included, unfortunately) of what we found:
STEELY RESOLVE
The mythology that surrounds the Pittsburgh Steelers is inextricably linked with the region's history and its people. We think of our team, and ourselves, in terms of hard work, physical struggle and achievement against tough odds. They win games in the driving snow, and we don't back down from challenging times. Our team stays true to its values; our people don't take the easy way out.
Bob Sabilla spends eight hours each week shopping for tailgating groceries and supplies, coordinating the contributions of friends and packing his truck so it can hold everything from tables to hot plates to tents. There's something about the effort and preparation that serious tailgating requires that meshes perfectly with Pittsburgh's "If it's hard to do, let us give it a shot" sensibility.
Add in the fact that these outdoor parties mainly happen in the freezing cold, and you've got just the kind of challenge that Pittsburghers love to tackle. Tailgating is huge among fans of college football in Southern states for a good reason: The weather is lovely year-round. It's a pleasure to grill outdoors in Louisiana in December. But it takes Steeler-like commitment to be flipping burgers outside when the mercury dips into single digits and icy winds are whistling off the river.
"We've been out here when it's 5 below, and it's really not bad," says a smiling Brady Lecker, who never misses a home game at Heinz Field. He and his extended family arrive about five hours before each game, driving from their home in Oakdale in an RV bought specifically for tailgating. It sports a custom-made flagpole, with the black-and-gold flying high alongside the red-white-and-blue, and even a homemade "Steelers angel" mounted on the dashboard.
Pittsburgh tailgaters will tell you they don't just endure the cold and wind. They celebrate it. "You don't even put on a sweatshirt until it's in the 30s," explains C.J. Loeffler of Butler County. He was tailgating before the Steelers' home opener alongside a group whose name captures the gritty strength that personifies 'Burgh tailgating: They call themselves The Hellgaters.
Now, here's where it starts to get interesting:
As you quiz The Hellgaters about what Pittsburgh tailgating is all about, another strand of what it means to be a Pittsburgher emerges. You see a warmth and inclusiveness among The Hellgaters, despite their intimidating name, that is classically Pittsburgh. Rich and poor, old and young, locals and out-of-towners all party together when The Hellgaters gather. Even during the off-season they stick together, attending each other's weddings and family celebrations.
Somewhere around 1976, The Hellgaters adopted into their clan a smiling visitor named Elvis Migotto. This Canadian, who claims the title of "Canada's Biggest Steelers Fan," is as hardcore as the rest. When football season arrives, he drives about 400 miles from his home north of Toronto just to tailgate at Heinz Field. The Hellgaters count him as one of their own, and he returns the love: "I can't bring food across the border," Migotto tells us, smiling just as broadly as the rest of his crew, "so I bring the pots and pans."