Seasoned LSU tailgaters share their secrets for a successful gameday

The art of the tailgate is something not everyone can perfect, but for these LSU Tiger fans, this isn’t their first rodeo—or pregame. With plenty of planning, preparation and food, they’ve turned gameday into a well-oiled machine.

It’s about much more than just finding a parking spot and cracking open a cold drink before kickoff; it’s about ritual and tradition. For some, gameday preparation begins months in advance with the same groups participating for decades.

Cody Ghiggia came to Baton Rouge from Nevada knowing no one nine years ago. After meeting and joining the Unsupervised Misfits, he’s met his girlfriend, made close friends and even officiated two weddings for members of the group.

“The family I have from LSU or from Louisiana is because of this tailgate,” he says. 

For the Unsupervised Misfits, he says a typical tailgate means preparing food for as many as 150 people for a bigger SEC game. Over the years, the group has cooked everything from jambalaya and pastalaya to fajitas and drunken chicken. 

“I don’t think people realize how much prep is involved,” he says. 

For the Florida game, the tailgate has featured a gator, while the rivalry-filled Alabama matchup inspired the group to turn a pig into an elephant, with boudin and sausage stuffed into its “trunk.” The display was so convincing that someone called the police, thinking the group was cooking an actual elephant. 

The biggest lesson he’s learned over the years, though, is to start planning early and always have a backup plan.

Another tailgate by the stadium is Tigerholic Tailgaters, started around 25 years ago by James Peck and his friends with just an ice chest and a few chairs.

Planning for this group is a bit more relaxed. Peck says they plan the food menu the week of, with a 10-gallon pot serving around 50 people per weekend. Recent menus have included barbecue pulled pork, smothered chicken and rice and gravy. Once the weather cools down, gumbo and chili will earn a spot on the menu. 

The work starts Friday morning when the group sets up its tent. On Saturday mornings, Peck and his brother arrive around 6:30 a.m. to set up tables, TVs, chairs and a cooking area before the rest of the group arrives.

“It’s definitely a process; it usually takes three to four days out of the week geared toward the tailgate,” he says.

Rather than worry about having too much food, Peck says he would rather run out. 

“It’s easier for the cleanup,” he says. 

His best piece of advice: make friends with those around you. 

“The key one is talk to the people around you, all the different tailgates, and help them out if they need it, and they’ll help you out when you need,” Peck says.

The sense of community tailgating brings echoes throughout the entire campus. 

Heather Miller grew up attending the Krewe of BATT tailgate, which her parents and their friends started in the 1980s. She took over the tailgate with her husband and another couple in 2019, but the group has remained in the same spot for home games since the early 1990s. 

The core group consists of about 26 to 30 members, but guests and friends can bring the crowd to 150 to 200 people for bigger games, and everyone’s welcome. 

“Even with opposing teams, we’re gonna bring them in, feed them, give them lots to drink, and then hope they lose that night in the stadium,” Miller says. 

The group shares its space with three neighboring tailgates, creating what they call “the island.” If anyone runs out of food or supplies, they share, turning several tailgates into a larger community. 

The group’s signature dish is its boudin egg rolls, made fresh for each outing by member Joel Atkinson and his daughter. Miller says the process is down to a science.

Preparation for this tailgate crew starts months in advance, planning around the season’s schedule and when they anticipate larger crowds. Before each game, members need to prepare food, drinks, tents, tables, TVs, chairs and games. 

One of Miller’s jobs is to prepare mason jars for the group’s shot ski, a repurposed ski with slots for shot glasses, which she says is always a hit. For larger games, she makes 30 to 40 mason jars full of shots. 

Even with all the prep and organization, there’s still more involved in making a perfect tailgate. 

“You have to be able to be flexible and go with the flow because you don’t want some little logistical problem to rob you of a good time,” Miller says.  “If there’s a huge downpour and there’s mud everywhere, or something crazy happens, it’s still OK because it’s still fun.”

The sense of community built at these tailgates is what turns a collection of tents and tables into a Saturday tradition. 

“It just allows us to kind of relax, and we’re not worried about what’s going on during the work week,” Miller says. “For this little moment in time, we’re just focused on having fun and spending our time with friends and family and Tiger fans.”