11. Lot L
“Lot Hell.” It’s literally a quarter of a mile from the stadium. You have to climb up a hill to get to the stadium, which also requires you to navigate down the hill afterwards. I’ve timed the walk. It’s 15 minutes from lot to gate. After five Tank 7s, a few auxiliary Miller Lites, four hot dogs and a pull or three from a bottle of Evan Williams, a 15-minute walk is hell. Hence the nickname.
Party level: A backyard cookout with too much booze and not enough food.
10. Lot N
I once got lost in Lot N before a Royals/Brewers game in 2007. I was scared. You never want to find yourself here. The trek to the stadium might as well be a 19th century trail ride, minus dysentery. Featuring a large and economically diverse crowd, Lot N can be a great time, but I’ve seen this place devolve from looking like a Florida-Georgia Line music video to the world’s largest bum fight in a matter of minutes. Plenty of lowered Chevy S-10s to be seen here.
Party level: Gathering of the Juggalos.
9. Lot M
The Lot M parking pass is a golden ticket into the hoity toity world of Kansas City’s upper crust. Leave the beer pong table at home, bring the Franzia. Imagine strolling into work Monday morning armed with a story about you making Phil Witt slap the bag.
Party level: Fancy brunch.
8. Lot B
Lot B is too small for anything remotely interesting to ever happen there. I’m at a loss. Should probably turn this thing into a Steak ‘n Shake. That’s actually a really good idea.
Party level: Edward Jones Dome.
7. Lot H
I’ve never really seen anything worth seeing come from Lot H. It’s where my dad’s parking passes are, so I’m always on my best behavior here. I’m assuming this is just where all the dads park.
Party level: Corporate happy hour.
6. Lot F
Lot F stands for “you done F**ked up.” How you got to be this far from the stadium leaves you with just one option: get inappropriately loaded and hope you make it into the game on time.
Party level: Weird barn party.
5. Lot D
See above, add Eastern Jackson County crowd to the mix.
Party level: Abandoned barn party.
4. Lot J
Lot J, man. There’s a certain mystique to it, you know? You can see into the stadium and watch Crown Vision. If there was ever an opportunity for you to bring a chaise lounge to a tailgate and get away with it, this is it.
Party level: O’Dowd’s at midnight.
3. Lot C
Party level: Mitch-a-palooza.
2. Lot A
The rowdiest of all the reserved parking. There’s a certain touch of class that comes with tailgating in Lot A. You know that family from Blue Springs who goes to Lotawana every weekend to get hammered? That’s Lot A.
Party level: Party Cove.
1. Lot G
I’m a Lot G’er for life, a G-man. Just a bunch of bag slappin’, beer guzzlin’, bottle pullin’, party bussin’ sons-a-guns. Lot G is the definitive tailgating lot at the Sports Complex. The only thing more prominent than the debaucherous, blue-clad booze hounds in Lot G are the mothers hurrying their children through Lot G. With Arrowhead looming next to you, there’s no excuse not to go all out.
Party level: Delta Tau Chi rush party.