Time was when tailgating was universally frowned upon. Tailgating meant that an obnoxious motorist was following your vehicle so closely that he could read the care instructions on the tag of your T-shirt.

Tailgating has since taken on another meaning. This term is now used to describe the pregame eating, drinking, and socializing that takes place in the parking lot of a sports venue. If your team is on a winning streak, it’s a pre-celebration celebration; if your team has been losing lately, you can commiserate with other fans and mutter, “Wait until next year!”

I’ve lived a sheltered life in that I’ve never attended a tailgating event. I would point out in my defense that I’ve also never been an avid sports fan. I had nothing better to do on a recent Saturday, so I decided to check out the tailgating at a South Dakota State University football game.

I strolled onto the acreage near the stadium that had been set aside for tailgating. The powers that be had wisely chosen to reserve the parking lot for actual parking.

The wondrous fragrance of meat cooking over wood fires filled the air. Awnings and tents peppered the area like seashells on a beach. Tailgating booths ranged from small family-sized affairs to sprawling venues that were sponsored by a company or an organization. Cooking equipment varied from humble little kettle grills to a ginormous offset smoker that had been constructed from a 1,000-gallon propane tank.

Ryan McKnight was operating the 1,000-gallon barbecue behemoth. He was feeding it a steady diet of firewood and closely monitoring its temperature.

“This is the first time that we’ve used it,” Ryan said of the five-ton firebreather. “It’s working great!”

I saw a two-story inflatable Holstein cow nearby, indicating the site of the Valley Queen Cheese Factory booth. I wandered over and discovered that they were giving away — surprise! — grilled cheese sandwiches.

Jon Rogers, communications coordinator for Valley Queen, was churning out grilled cheese sandwiches like a man with four hands. I asked Jon how many sandwiches he would produce that day.

“We’ll make about 450 sandwiches during a typical tailgating event,” he replied, barely glancing up from his griddle. In the interest of quality control, I tried one of his sandwiches. It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.

The ages of people attending the gathering ranged from infants to folks in their eighties. There was a large number of college students, many of whom were becoming increasingly imbued with team spirit as the day wore on. The consumption of barley-based beverages may have had something to do with this.

In one of the larger booths, I watched a football player pile a bun with sliced pork loin and top that with a hamburger patty. He’s young and is probably still growing.

In one of the smaller booths, I chatted with a lady named Amy.

“Our daughters attended SDSU,” Amy said. “We started tailgating about eight years ago. We still tailgate even though the girls have long since graduated. We just love the atmosphere and the spirit of the tailgaters.”

A variety of tunes thundered from tailgaters’ boom boxes. Live music was also provided by a band that was using a flatbed trailer as a stage. I recognized many of their songs, including “Margaritaville” and “Copperhead Road.” Good music at a good price!

Someone randomly offered me a jalapeno popper. I was wary of the jalapeno part, fearing that it would cause a five-alarm digestive fire. I popped it into my mouth and found it only mildly spicy. That experience alone was worth the price of admission.

One tailgater’s table featured build-your-own tacos. This proved too tempting, so I selected a flour tortilla and stuffed it with taco stuff.

There were numerous large wooden spools that had been repurposed into tables. My taco was unruly, so I placed my paper plate on one of the tables. A young couple and their daughter, Emily, age one, were standing nearby. They began to chat with me like a long-lost pal. The mom was trying to eat, so she put Emily on the table. Emily eyed me warily, but I was able to quickly win her over with a spirited game of peekaboo.

“We love the camaraderie of tailgating,” said Emily’s mom, an SDSU nursing school graduate. “It’s great to come here and reconnect with old friends and make new ones.”

The best part of tailgating was the pervasive sense of bonhomie. The second-best part was all the scrumptious tastes and aromas.

In conclusion, I found tailgating to be a thoroughly enjoyable event. Even if the only game I experienced that day was peekaboo.

— Jerry’s book, “Dear County Agent Guy” can be found at www.workman.com