Bills Mafia has forged its reputation in the parking lots.
Tailgating is a way of life for the most fervent Buffalo Bills fans, and a subsection of the fan base has achieved near-legendary status, from the late Pancho Billa to Pinto Ron, The Chefs, Bills Elvis and Hannabill Lecter.
“As long as I can remember, the narrative around the Bills is the tailgating scene,” said Del Reid, who coined the phrase “Bills Mafia” in 2010. “You look back at the pictures from the playoff games in the early '90s and they’ve got guys out there in a hot tub in the middle of January. It’s just part of the identity. We’re all raised as Bills fans being told that this is part of the experience.”
The coronavirus pandemic could change all that, at least this season, with the NFL considering the possibility of playing games with either no fans or limited fans in attendance in hopes of curbing the transmission of Covid-19.
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What might that mean for the tailgating scene around New Era Field, and the rich traditions therein?
And how would Bills fans cope if games are played, but tailgating is heavily regulated or prohibited?
“I’ve talked to a lot of people who are actually almost traumatized that they might not be able to tailgate at the home opener, because they miss it so much and they love it so much,” said Ken Johnson, aka “Pinto Ron,” whose theatrics attract more than a thousand revelers at the Red Pinto Tailgate. “The most chatter I’m getting is everyone’s in total denial, the die-hard fans that show up in Hammer Lot every week.”
Richard “Poo” Peterson and longtime friend Derrick Norman are known as “The Chefs,” a duo that feeds hundreds off their modified meat smoker and grills in the RV Lot.
“With Covid-19, everything they want you to do now, it’s almost the opposite of a tailgate,” Peterson said. “You’ve got at least 40 to 50 people there at a time and they’re shaking hands and giving each other hugs and then they go to the grill and get a hamburger and hot dog and don’t wash their hands.
“Once people have drinks, their guard tends to go down a bit. And if I went to a Bills game after back surgery, before this came out, I’m sure I would go with the sniffles.
“It’s a lot of food for thought.”
The Buffalo News spoke with some prominent Bills fans to learn how the pandemic has affected them and their families and to gauge their thoughts on tailgating this season.
'Chef' faces Covid-19
Norman has been a Buffalo firefighter for 27 years, a Bills season ticket holder for 20, and feeding crowds in the RV lot before games for 15.
If tailgating is barred by government and health officials or the NFL, he’ll figure it’s for the best.
“By being a firefighter and being on the front lines, I understand,” Norman said. “Because I caught the coronavirus early on. I got sick for one or two days, because I was teaching out at the academy, and a lot of the instructors had got infected. But we all beat it. Everything is OK now.”
Norman, 53, of Cheektowaga, said he had a fever, chills and body aches one Friday in March, took cold medicine, felt fine by Sunday and returned to work Monday. On Tuesday, Norman’s chief called to ask whether he or anyone in his household had been sick or experiencing symptoms. Norman said he had and was instructed to visit a drive-thru testing site. A day later, the result came back positive.
“It was like a bomb dropped on me,” Norman said. “I was like, ‘What the … what?’ Then they’re telling me I’ve got to stay quarantined and this and that and my wife’s got to be quarantined. I’ve got grandkids, so they couldn’t come over. I was just in the house. I felt alone.”
Norman said he was quarantined for 10 days and his wife, a nurse who works at a nursing home and is tested twice a week, was never sick.
He tried to pass the time by praying, cooking, watching TV and cleaning the garage.
But daily news updates – and the death of three friends – fueled his anxiety.
“I was really afraid of the unknown,” Norman said, “because you never know what’s going to happen, and I lost a few loved ones. Friends that I knew died of the coronavirus. It’s very, very scary when you have it. You’re constantly thinking. … What’s next? Am I going to be OK? It was definitely an eye-opener for me. And they don’t know if you can catch it again.”
Norman said he’s eager to don his chef’s hat and spend weekends smoking meat, feeding friends and cheering for the Bills.
“I’ve been waiting for football all this time,” Norman said. “I would love to get back out there and tailgate with all my friends and everything … but if not, I can understand completely. Let’s be safe.”
Pinto Ron's streak in jeopardy?
Johnson, aka “Pinto Ron,” has been to 423 consecutive Bills games, from the 1994 season opener following the franchise’s fourth consecutive Super Bowl appearance to the team’s wild-card playoff loss in January at Houston.
In those 26 years, his tailgate and attendance streak have become legendary, and the Rochester resident’s alter ego and super fandom have defined his life.
“Nearly 90% of all my friends, maybe more, are from people I’ve met over the years tailgating,” Johnson said. “If this all went away for me, the ‘Pinto Tailgate’ I run and the road trips that I do, what I would miss most is all the people I’d probably never see again. It’d be literally hundreds of people that I’d never, ever see again. Certainly some of them I’d keep up with, but you can’t keep up with hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people.”
He’s not worried about losing the season.
“I don’t see any circumstance where they’re not going to have 16 games this year,” Johnson said. “Whether they delay it four weeks or something like that, that’s a different issue.”
Johnson said he could see the stadium being half-filled early in the season, in which case he’s certain he’ll find his way into the crowd.
But he’s less certain about the future of his tailgate.
“I don’t think social climate is going to be conducive to large crowds, and nobody draws a crowd larger than me. I can tell you that,” Johnson said. “I don’t have any intention of being a poster boy for bad behavior, so I can’t possibly see me right now running the full tailgate party.
"I’m sure that the ketchup and mustard ceremony is going to have to go away for a while, because that draws a huge crowd, as much as 1,000 people. And the bowling ball shot, which is a second part of my gimmick … the optics look really bad. So I’ll probably have to park the bowling ball, too.
“Do I bring the car out there and cook on the car? Do I just put the car out there symbolically? I really don’t want to generate a crowd until the social climate says crowds are OK.”
Should the Bills play without fans in the stadium, his streak could live on.
“I’ll modify what I say, like, ‘I’ve been to 424 games in a row that they let us go in,’ something like that,” Johnson said. “When I got to 16, I was happy as a clam. And everything else was a bonus.
“Extending the streak isn’t what motivates me. What motives me is I want to go to the game.”
Immunosuppressed
Leslie Wille, one of the co-founders of “Bills Mafia,” has owned season tickets for 15 years and spends pregames at the Red Pinto Tailgate. But she might not return any time soon.
“I think my bowling ball shot days are probably done for a while,” Wille said.
In October, her son Milo was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor and adrenal insufficiency, which makes it difficult for him to fight infections. “He’s immunosuppressed to a degree,” Wille said.
Last season, Wille and her husband, Toby, were planning to take Milo to the Bills’ home game against the Miami Dolphins on Oct. 20, his seventh birthday. It would have been his first regular season game. But Milo, the oldest of three siblings, had been complaining of headaches for two or three weeks. He also had a sinus infection and complained of pain in his legs.
“A big red flag was he started saying that things were looking blurry,” Wille said.
After the eye doctor checked him out and said everything was fine, Milo developed an unquenchable thirst and began urinating every five minutes.
Five days before the game, his parents took him to Oishei Children's Hospital.
They also sold the tickets.
“But we told the staff at the hospital it was his birthday,” Wille said, “and they got him out in time to still go to the game. So I talked to Del (Reid) and just said, ‘Hey, we still really want to take him to this game. It’s his birthday. This was his present. We’ve got to do this for him. We’ve got to make it special. If you know anyone selling tickets, let me know.’
“Del reached out to a friend who reached out to a friend, and the next thing I know, he’s calling us going, ‘You’re going to the game. You’ve got to pick up your tickets at will call. And by the way, you’re sitting in the Pegulas’ suite.’
“They had a birthday cake for him and sang to him at halftime. It was just awesome.”
Milo and his family, who live in Fredonia, will have to manage his medical condition for the rest of his life. He takes three medications daily. Wille stopped working March 10.
“We decided to put ourselves in isolation,” Wille said. “We just stayed home and didn’t have any contact with anyone for quite a while.”
Wille said their friends from the tailgate, their “football family,” might not see them for some time.
“We’ve been talking about it a lot, about if there are fans at the games, are we comfortable going?” Wille said. “If there’s not fans at the games, are we comfortable getting together with people to watch? I really don’t know what the answer is to that right now.
“When it really comes down to it, he comes first. So if it’s a question of safety, we sell the tickets and we watch the games from home.”
The view from Canada
Paul Burdon, who wrote the fight song for the Tailgating Hall of Fame, drives nearly three hours from his home north of Toronto to Orchard Park to play the music at the Red Pinto Tailgate and cheer for the Bills. He’s been tailgating with Pinto Ron for 18 years.
“Being from Canada, I can’t even get into the States right now,” Burdon said. “June 22 will be the next time they reevaluate that, so we’re getting closer and closer. I spoke to my ticket representative about a month ago and the Bills didn’t have a policy until I talked to them about, ‘What if the border’s not open and Canadians aren’t allowed to travel down?’ I received word that our money would be refunded.
“But even if the border is open, if after I come back I’ve got to self-quarantine for 14 days, it doesn’t make it very feasible for me to go down to games, if I have to work when I come home.”
Burdon said the pandemic has already disrupted the offseason routine of his core group of friends, who would gather to tailgate at a Rochester Americans game, concerts and an NFL draft party.
“It’s already started to affect the overall flow of what we do as fans,” Burdon said. “By this time, usually I’d have all my hotels and flights booked (for road games). But I don’t want to lay out money if I’ll only get credit back, if I can’t get there.”
Burdon said he’s been watching Madden simulations of the Bills’ upcoming season online, joining a community of several hundred sports-starved fans.
“It gives you a chance to talk football with fans and forget about things,” he said.
But social media interaction is a poor substitute for the parking lot on game days.
“I can save thousands of dollars by being a Bills fan and sitting at home and watching the game,” Burdon said. “But it’s just not the whole experience.”
He’d consider driving to Orchard Park to tailgate even if he couldn’t get into the game.
“Could I see myself driving down to the Hammer's Lot to be sitting in the parking lot with Kenny even though if we can’t go in the stadium? I definitely could,” Burdon said. “Social distancing in the parking lot, still getting the grill out, we’d have TVs on the back of the vans and cars. I could see it happening.”
Hammering it home: 'Safety is No. 1'
Eric Matwijow, known as “Hammer,” said he removes nearly a ton of trash from his private parking lot with a Ford F-350 pickup truck that gets “snowconed with garbage bags” each Monday morning after Bills home games.
“A long time ago – I’m sounding like an old man now – tailgating used to be a six pack of Genny and a cheese sandwich and people would go into the game,” Matwijow said. “People now want to make it a full-day event.”
Matwijow, 63, owns “Hammer’s Lot,” the home of the Red Pinto Tailgate, a little more than an acre of land across the street from New Era Field at 4170 Abbott Road in Orchard Park.
He charges $35 per car, has strict rules against table smashing and reinvests in the business, which he’s owned for 35 years, recently sinking about $14,000 into a drainage system, he said.
“Nobody gets stuck on my property. Nobody,” Matwijow said.
This fall, there might not be anyone to get stuck.
Orchard Park has delayed issuing commercial parking permits, Matwijow said, though he expects the Bills will play games with fans in attendance and that he’ll reduce the number of people tailgating on his property, rather than packing them in as usual.
“I’m definitely going to be socially responsible as an owner,” Matwijow said. “I’m not going to open up and jeopardize anybody’s life. It wouldn’t feel good to find out somebody died that was in my lot and got that disease. I’ll take the financial hit.”
Should the Bills play in an empty stadium, his lot could remain empty, as well.
“At this point, I don’t know if I would open the lot just to have people tailgate,” Matwijow said. “If we did, obviously, social responsibility, spacing. But there are other costs to me. Do I have to get the hand sanitizer out? A water system with soap? How are we going to keep the bathrooms safe? Do I have to get a pump sprayer or whatever? I don’t even know what chemicals they actually use, but I see them on TV spraying disinfectant. Can I even find the disinfectant? I can’t even find masks now. Thermometers, you can’t find. Cloth masks you can find, but you can’t find the nice N-95s. I’ll need gloves.
“Right now, it’s just so complicated to think two months down the road, what could happen. Is the virus going to spike up? It’s so hard to say at this point. I would hope I could open up. But safety is No. 1 in my book.”

