SAN DIEGO HOST SUPER BOWL XXII : Super Bowl at LARGE : Over, Around and In the Stadium on Super Sunday, ‘This Is Crazy’

The parking lot at San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium on Sunday:

John Lambie, from Sydney, Australia, is munching on hot dogs at 8 in the morning, enjoying his first American tailgate party. He doesn’t pretend to be a know-it-all. Indeed. “Yeah, the Dallas Redskins are my favorite. As long as Kareem has a good day, they’ll win.”

A pep rally is being held for the Redskins in front of the mobile studio for WJLA-TV out of Washington. Three limousines bearing Bronco rooter signs cruise through the crowd. The Redskin fans hoot and hiss. The limo passengers open up their sunroofs, hoist their middle fingers in a universal salute, then drive on. You can’t see their faces through the tinted windows.

At a Bronco pep rally, they’re sipping Colorado Crystal sparkling Rocky Mountain spring water--bottled with orange food coloring. They’re munching on popcorn--colored blue and orange.

Official or not, Corona is the beer of Super Bowl XXII. It is everyone’s favorite, except for some alighting from limos sipping champagne from long-stemmed glasses. But a Bronco fan says he’d die for a Coors.

San Diego State University students are falling over one another selling $5 game programs. But one sales team--a group of cheerleaders--stands out, literally. They hoist their female member atop their shoulders, pyramid style. Sales are brisk.

Limo driver Rosan Mollaian parks his vehicle, opens the door for actor Charles Bronson and within 10 minutes is munching on ham-and-tortilla rolls.

Maybe the most comfortable seat in the place, skyboxes aside, is in Tandy Williamson’s $100,000 limousine--one of a number of unusual limos owned by his Malibu Executive Limousine. Of the maybe 600 limos in the lot, his is probably the most unusual. It’s more a van than a car, is said to be one of only three of its type in the country, and was hired to carry seven KABC-TV executives from Los Angeles to the game. Now they’re inside the stadium, and Tandy’s throwing a party in his vehicle for other limo drivers. They’re sitting in leather captain’s chairs and watching the game on a 20-inch color television. He lets other people walking by in the lot use his restroom--for $5.

In the staging area for the pregame show:

A pickup pulling a trailer carrying two burros and two--get this--camels tries to maneuver into a fenced-off area, negotiating around jammed school buses carrying volunteers. “This is crazy,” someone says.

Jermaine Johnson, a Mira Mesa High School football player and one of the 200 volunteers filling and tying balloons, mutters: “We’ve been planning this balloon show for five months--for just two minutes of air time.” But there’s a bright side for him and his fellow athletes: “At the party afterward (for volunteers), there are going to be 450 girls--and only 50 of us guys.”

In the air over San Diego Jack Murphy Stadium:

At one time, there are three blimps--Goodyear, Pepsi and Fuji Film--overhead, along with five airplanes pulling advertising banners, and five helicopters--some of them carrying news crews, and others ferrying in fans for the game. It’s an aerial circus, and everyone’s impressed.

The Blue Angels pass perfectly in formation over the stadium during the National Anthem. But the place is so noisy, you can hardly hear them, and that’s amazing.

Fourteen-thousand red, white and blue balloons that had formed the American flag for the pregame show are released just after the Blue Angels make their fly-by. “Looks like a weird DNA molecule,” someone offers as the balloons rise into the blue-and-white sky.

One of the flying banners reads: “Judge Wapner for President.” You can figure it out.

In the hospitality tents outside the stadium:

The sand sculpture at the entrance to the Hospitality Village is a smash hit. It has a two-tiered platform for people to stand on for photographs, and there’s a steady stream of takers, posing with Sea World characters.

The largest party tent belongs to the National Football League itself. On the back side, Liliana Miller is grilling hundreds of quesadillas to complement the balance of the menu, which includes barbecue ribs, hamburgers, roast beef and chili. “Absolutely no trick to this,” she admits. “And I’ll be heading home by 3:30. I’m here for the money.”

In front, hundreds of fans mosey up to the white picket fence and peer into the party, like some sort of zoo exhibit. They see drinking and feasting and a tent decorated in Hawaiian motif complete with another large sand castle. Character figures representing the various team mascots stroll the grounds. Someone on the inside sees a friend at the fence, who beckons him over. “Can you get me in?” he asks.

Inside the stadium:

The folks subjected--and that may be too kind a word--to the field-level bleachers cringe when they realize how tightly they are being squeezed in. “My tickets were comp,” one man offers. “If I had paid for these, I’d be real upset.”

How tight is the bleacher seating? If you look across the field at fans in regular seats, you can see the colors of their shirts. In the field bleacher crowd, all you can see are faces. Now, that’s tight.

One man in the middle of a bleacher bench says he needs to go to the bathroom. It takes him five minutes before his row decides to let him out. He looks scared for a moment, because he knows he’s trapped.