Smoke from the grills drifted across Lot G as fans made their way toward M&T Bank Stadium, some slowing down as they passed a tailgate that sounded a little different than what they may be used to.
There were Hebrew melodies, different sets of tefillin, and a steady flow of people — Jewish and not — stopping in before kickoff, drawn in as much by curiosity as by football.
At the center of it all was Rabbi Yaakov Kaplan, who created The Jewish Tailgate (TJT) to give fans a place to gather, celebrate, and connect with their culture — and to share that experience with anyone who wanted to stop by.
“Judaism, in general, is not a proselytizing religion, so we’re not looking to try and convince anyone to be Jewish,” Kaplan said. “But we’re happy to share if someone has a question. And of course, we’re looking to share a Jewish experience with people who are Jewish.”
However, the tailgate didn’t start as a grand plan.
Kaplan drew on his work as executive director of the Chabad of South Baltimore, a local Jewish community center and synagogue that’s part of the global Chabad-Lubavitch movement focused on outreach and education.
Its centers aim to make Jewish life accessible for everyone regardless of background or level of observance — a mission Kaplan brought to life with the debut of his tailgate this season.
The idea first came shortly before last season when a fellow Chabad member in Florida suggested starting a tailgate in Baltimore and offered a few tips to help him begin. He tried to launch it going last season, but quickly realized it took more time and planning than he had anticipated.
This season, he jumped in headfirst, seeing an opportunity to create a space where fans could connect, celebrate, and experience Jewish traditions in a welcoming, open setting.
“It’s been beautiful because we’re not discriminating,” Kaplan said. “Anyone that comes by, we’re happy to give them something to eat. And we’ve had so many fans come over that are not Jewish.”
The first week the tailgate opened, the turnout exceeded expectations. Kaplan recalled it went “phenomenally well.” What started as a small experiment quickly evolved into a weekly fixture, with fans returning not just for the food and music, but for the sense of community it offered.
Rather than pressuring fans into exploring a different culture, the approach is much more tame for leaders of TJT. Rabbi Shloimy Fuchs — director of the Chabad of Maryland Mitzvah Tank and a TJT organizer — said attracting people is as simple as putting on a friendly face.
“When approaching people with a positive attitude and joy, what happens is that a lot of these barriers crumble,” Fuchs said. “In Judaism, it’s the idea of turning on a little bit of light and it will banish a lot of darkness. All it was was an absence of light. When coming with a positive and joyous attitude, a lot of these divisions don’t exist. You don’t even know that they’re there or maybe they’re not.”
Like a parent taking a child to their first football game, TJT lets curiosity guide the experience for passersby. Fans can ask questions, sample kosher food, or simply enjoy the music, all at their own pace.
They can also explore various aspects of Jewish culture.
At each tailgate, TJT offers tefillin — small black leather boxes containing scrolls of Torah passages. These are traditionally worn by Jewish men during weekday morning prayers. One box is strapped to the arm, facing the heart, and the other to the forehead, symbolically connecting the mind and heart to God’s commandments.
To celebrate Shabbat , the Jewish day of rest observed from Friday evening to Saturday evening, TJT brings candles for people to light. The tradition commemorates God resting on the seventh day after creating the world, and during Shabbat, many Jews refrain from work, spend time with family, and pray.
The tailgate has also observed Sukkot — a weeklong fall holiday commemorating the Israelites’ time wandering in the desert after leaving Egypt and being protected by “clouds of glory.”
During the holiday, Jews build temporary huts called sukkot and often decorate them with fruits and greenery. Families eat meals inside the sukkah and perform rituals with four plant species — a palm branch, myrtle, willow, and citron (etrog) — to celebrate God’s protection and the harvest.
At the tailgate, Fuchs blended these ingredients together for fans to try, bringing the holiday to life in an accessible way. And as the year goes on, TJT continues to provide seasonal holiday experiences.
During Hanukkah, they plan to offer menorah kits and donuts as a holiday treat. And they hope to light the menorah with permission from Baltimore Ravens officials.
“All those things are an observance of our Judaism, and it just flows right into being Ravens fans from Baltimore — proud, excited, celebrating our city, and being able to engage Jewishly as well,” Kaplan said.
The tailgate draws a crowd of regulars and first-timers, united by curiosity and a shared sense of community. Some travel from out of state to take part, while others live in Baltimore and stop by on a whim.
Jewish fans of opposing teams have also flocked to the tailgate. Kaplan hopes to eventually invite fellows who support opposing teams such as Miami and New York to celebrate together.
“It’s been really nice to be a resource for them in a very practical way,” Kaplan said. “We give them food. We wish that their team will lose, but we can kind of be there for them when they’re traveling.”
Fuchs also regularly invites yeshiva students — students at Jewish educational institutions focused on the study of traditional Jewish texts like the Torah and Talmud — from a youth development group in Pennsylvania to help support each tailgate.
One student DJs at every event, another mans the grill, and others greet fans as they pass by. Whether they’re setting up, serving food, or striking up conversation, there’s a role for everyone at TJT.
On average, more than 200 people stop by TJT throughout the day.
And that’s all without a large social media presence. TJT has an Instagram page that’s connected to Kaplan’s Facebook account, but he doesn’t spread the word on other platforms.
“I’m probably missing some people by not having it in more places, but it’s not important for me to be viral for a national view because that’s really not what we’re there for,” Kaplan said. “It’s really to get the word out to the local community so that they can know about it, and they can come by and stop by.”
The modest social media footprint isn’t a reflection of Kaplan’s ambition — it’s a deliberate choice. Behind the scenes, he’s already thinking about what comes next.
Looking ahead, he hopes to receive permission from the Ravens to bring a mitzvah tank to Lot G. The mobile outreach vehicle — commonly an RV or large van — is used by Chabad to create a traveling Jewish community space.
Inside, a mitzvah tank — or a “bodega for Judaism” as Kaplan described it — is typically set up like a small synagogue, classroom, or living room. It allows rabbis and volunteers to offer Jewish experiences in public places, from putting on tefillin and lighting Shabbat candles to learning about holidays or simply having a conversation.
“Instead of being stationed in one place, it moves from place to place in the state of Maryland,” Fuchs said. “It has a mix of those fields where people can come inside and connect to their heritage.”
Still, the tailgate is less about spectacle than presence. Whether someone stops by for five minutes or stays for hours, the goal is to meet people where they are — as fans, as neighbors, and as Baltimoreans.
In doing so, TJT has become a mainstay for many fans. But its growth has never come at the expense of tradition.
That balance was clear when TJT skipped Baltimore’s Sept. 22 matchup against the Detroit Lions because the game fell on Rosh Hashannah.
“I was happy for people to be like, ‘You’re not going to be there, right?’ Like, right. You hope I will,” Kaplan said. “And I won’t because it’s valid.”
Even with its roots in tradition, TJT has grown into more than just a pregame gathering. It’s a space where fans can explore culture, celebrate tradition, and connect with one another — no matter their background.
Above all, Kaplan hopes the tailgate becomes a lasting fixture — one known not just for food, music, or football, but for the sense of belonging it fosters.
“We want to create a community within a community of people from all stripes and colors that come by, celebrate, and become friends,” Kaplan said.
