Whether you’re pre-/post-gaming down in The Gulch or mobbing with your crew along Northside Dr, you WILL inevitably run into a few clichéd tailgaters whenever the Falcons are playing at home. As they wrap up the season and prepare to move from the Georgia Dome into Mercedes-Benz Stadium, it’s a good time to remember that among the Falcons’ most fervent supporters there is a particular class of titans (no, not those chumps from Nashville) who deserve to be identified, celebrated, and yes, laughed at, in love.
This person has the Falcons logos on every single thing surrounding him. He’s not just wearing a jersey -- he is the existential essence of a jersey. His face is painted in red, white, and black. So is his hair, his socks, car, his wife, his children, his dog, and places you dare not imagine. He wants so badly to be challenged for his crown, but he believes that no worthy competitor is coming, although he does remember that jerk who actually brought a Falcons-painted falcon a few years ago, making him bitterly jealous and feeling insecure, as well as incomplete and utterly heartbroken. The evangelist lives to tell the story now, and he feels an obligation to spread the gospel and turn us all into believers. We tolerate him because who knows -- maybe God really is a falcon!