Describe an accomplishment you’re proudest of.
I’ve come across this statement several times — often in a professional setting.
Having held positions at three different companies throughout my adult life, I’ve become adept at answering this question in a manner that conveys my passion and devotion to my career.
The accomplishments I’ve described — either on an application form or in an interview — have helped open doors to new opportunities. And they are things I’m immensely proud of.
But not proudest of.
You see, if I were to answer this question with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (so help me God), it would do nothing for me professionally.
That’s because the accomplishment I’m proudest of is the weekly football tailgate I organized in college.
***
Football season is back. As crisp fall days make their triumphant return, so many of us are thinking about gridiron traditions — rivalry games, packed stadiums and miles of tailgaters filling the air with smoke from charcoal and propane grills.
As much as I love the game of football itself, those tailgating scenes are what captivate me like nothing else.
There’s something about the smell of burgers and brats in the air, something about the sight of thousands of people cooking out in a parking lot, that just gets me, every time. It doesn’t matter if I head to the game on a full stomach — that scene never ceases to make me hungry.
At first, these tailgating scenes were torture. My family didn’t have a strong football-watching tradition growing up, and when I went to NFL games with my father in high school, we didn’t bring a grill with us. My father couldn’t justify doing all that preparation and cooking just for two people, and his reasoning was sound. But the smell of grills throughout the long walk to the stadium was like a siren song, leaving me feeling empty and jealous.
“Someday, I’ll have my own tailgate,” I told myself.
***
When the University of Miami announced its football team would be moving to the Miami Dolphins’ stadium for my junior year of college, I saw an opportunity.
While so many fellow Hurricanes fans were (justifiably) lamenting the loss of the historic Orange Bowl — hallowed grounds for so many moments in The U’s dynasty years, including a college-record 58 game home winning streak — I was focused on what surrounded the team’s new home. Namely, a sea of parking.
While driving to the OB was nearly impossible, driving to Dolphin Stadium (as it was called then) was nearly inevitable. Since I had a car and an off-campus house at the time of the move, I knew the time was right to fulfill my tailgating destiny. I bought a student parking pass, spread the word about the tailgates to my friends and got ready to grill out.
There was only one problem: while most tailgaters haul their wares on gameday in a Ford F-150, I had a meager Saturn SL-1. Fitting a grill, chairs, a table, food, drinks and condiments — plus 4 passengers — in my compact car was going to be a challenge.
Undeterred, I bought an accordion folding table, some canvas chairs and a camping grill. Then for the first Saturday home game, I packed the truck tightly. Real tightly.
There was so much ambiguity in my mind. Will everything fit? Did I get too much food? Will my friends even show up? Will the grill light properly? What if I undercook the burgers? Will I have enough time to pull this off and make it to the game? But ultimately, the tailgate was a success — so much so that the ensuing game was a blur.
***
I became addicted to tailgating that day, and it instantly became a regular staple of my football experience. Each week I would try and get more people to join in (and chip in). I grilled in the rain and the muggy Florida heat. On weeks where the Canes had an early kickoff, I pivoted to breakfast food.
The following season, I took my show on the road — grilling in a drive-through banking lane that had been converted into a parking lot Miami-Florida State showdown. And for one home game, I ran a tailgate party with my parents and 10 of my friends — a feat that left my father in awe.
But nothing lasts forever. After I totaled the Saturn in a highway wreck during my senior year, I was left without a vehicle for 2 weeks. A friend graciously helped me pull off the final tailgate of the year using her vehicle, but my tailgating days were done. I brought the grill and table with me to West Texas, but I only used them for cookouts at my apartment. When it came time to move to Dallas, the grill only made it as far as the dumpster.
***
As I reminisce my tailgating days, I’m filled more with pride than sadness. I’m proud because I lived a dream beyond my wildest imagination. I went from being seduced by the smell of smoke in the air to cooking out for up to a dozen people each week. Unlike most college students, I found my own tailgates to be my favorite parties.
But I accomplished so much more through these tailgates. For the first time in my life, I undertook the burden of true leadership. I also overcame countless obstacles and learned how to communicate with others productively. These traits have all come in handy as I’ve forged my path in adulthood.
So yes, my time organizing a weekly football tailgate has been my proudest accomplishment so far. After all, it’s been so much more than just grilling out.