Hotel Refines Idea of Tailgate Party for Corporate Folk
There were no smoking hibachis, the stadium itself was half a continent away, and the chicken wings and French fries were served from silver chafing dishes.
This was a tailgate party--corporate-style.
But Kevin Welch, 37, didn’t object to the conveniences as he sipped a beer and gazed at a large television screen flashing more-than-life-sized images of muscular mayhem inside the Burbank Airport Hilton Hotel and Convention Center.
“You don’t have to get up for a beer, and you don’t have to worry about parking,” the Easter Seals employee from Sacramento said.
Welch was one of 1,200 people invited to attend the hotel’s fifth annual Superbowl Extravaganza and Tailgate Party, a kind of Super Bowl of Schmooze for business and community leaders who are considered important to the future of the center.
Men and women who recline in lounge chairs in oily parking lots outside stadiums almost every Sunday of the football season would no doubt have found Sunday’s event too sedate.
But it had its advantages, said Jeff Drees, 35, an airline company manager from Valencia. “Most tailgate parties are rowdy people just getting trashed. This is very well-produced.”
In an effort to capture the spirit of a true tailgate party, organizers parked a Buick station wagon and a Chevy Silverado pickup truck inside the muted walls of the cavernous convention center. Guests helped themselves to fried chicken, hot dogs, baked beans and potato chips from buffet tables that were set up around the vehicles.
A popcorn cart and hot pretzel stand offered even more junk-food alternatives as guests watched the Washington Redskins and the Buffalo Bills on two 12-foot-square screens and 11 smaller TV sets.
Meanwhile, hotel employees outfitted in black-and-white striped shirts dispensed cold beer and peanuts from trays hanging around their necks.
“I’ve only hit one person,” employee Steve Vannucci said as he hoisted his leg and lobbed a bag of peanuts to a nearby table. “I’ve got this under-the-leg thing down.”
Scott Stulberg, 35, who got in because he knew somebody, was into the tailgate spirit. “I brought my buddies and, man, we’re going to scarf,” he said as he surveyed the food tables. “I’m nervous there won’t be enough food.”
Despite efforts to simulate a real tailgate party, however, the high-gloss touch of corporate America shone through.
Guests ate at tables covered with linen cloths; waiters meticulously cleared dirty plates when diners were done. Many people wore business suits, not team colors.
Indeed, the atmosphere surprised at least one guest who had never attended a tailgate event.
“I thought you would sit around with a kegger in a car,” said Australian Geoff Waring, 28, a student. “This is more like a movie than a football game.”
