Picking your spots at the Coliseum for Rams home games

Three hours before kickoff, Carl De Leon tosses a football with his son on a broad patch of grass outside the Coliseum.

Arriving early for Rams games, De Leon likes to hang out with family and friends. The south lawn, sandwiched behind the stadium and the Natural History Museum, works just fine.

“The atmosphere is friendly,” he said. “You’ve got people barbecuing and having a good time.”

But when asked about Parking Lot 6 — another popular tailgating spot — the 47-year-old shakes his head.

“Yeah, that’s too wild.”

Rams fans say there a distinct structure to their pregame scene, a hierarchy that has evolved in the year since the team returned to Southern California.

This isn’t like when USC plays on a Saturday, with parties spread across Exposition Park, filling every nook and spilling onto the adjacent campus. The Rams try to limit tailgating to designated areas.

Also, the NFL crowd tends to get started a little later and the ambiance varies from spot to spot, ranging from casual to crazed, from shish kebab to shotgunning beers. As one season-ticket holder put it: “You’ve got to know where you’re going.”

Start on State Drive, which runs along the far side of the California Science Center, tucked away from the action.

With fewer people, there is sufficient room along the sidewalk for Andrew Lares to set up a canopy and run a generator for his television.

“We’ve been coming to USC games for 15 years,” Lares said, turning Italian sausage on a grill. “Now this is our spot for the Rams.”

The south lawn lies just to the west, with rows of cars and trucks pulled onto the grass. It is livelier here — but only a little — as music plays from stereos and bells jingle from vendors selling hot dogs and ice cream bars.

“You’ve got the museum right here,” De Leon said. “So you can take the kids.”

The mood starts to change around the west end of the stadium where Parking Lot 2 is noticeably bigger and louder. A man carrying a religious banner walks across the blacktop, bellowing into a microphone: “You’re going to stand before the holy God one day.”

Someone blasts an air horn — repeatedly — in an effort to drown him out.

Along the fence that borders Vermont Avenue, Grant Mogford has parked his converted school bus, which is painted blue and gold and festooned with Rams logos. He purchased it online from a disgruntled fan in St. Louis when the team moved west.

“It’s been at every home game since 1999,” he said.

A vehicle of that size forces Mogford to think about logistics. On game days, he says, fans should know that intersections around the Coliseum are converted to right-turn only. He says: “You’ve got to plan your route.”

Arriving early helps too. The parking lots open five hours before kickoff and scores of RVs can show up at Lot 2 for big games. Still, this isn’t the busiest spot.

The real action is farther along, on the south side of the Coliseum.

Past Lots 4 and 5, where tailgating is permitted but was sparse before a recent preseason game, a mean sort of growl arises. It isn’t so much music as jumbled thumping, a chaotic rhythm vibrating through the sunny afternoon.

Stepping through the gate to Lot 6 is like stepping into another world, with people and canopies jammed in tight, leaving only narrow, winding paths through the horde.

Rams management publishes a code of conduct that limits gatherings to a small area around each vehicle. Drinks should be poured into plastic or disposable containers. Anyone with a barbecue must also keep a fire extinguisher handy. Excessive consumption of alcohol is prohibited.

Hardly any of that seems to apply in Lot 6, where Tony Jaques grabs a kitchen knife to punch a hole in his beer can so he can shotgun its contents, guzzling 12 ounces in a flash. Wearing a No. 99 jersey and wraparound sunglasses, he smiles.

“This is where it’s at,” he said.

Given the range of tailgating options before games, Lot 6 might be too lively for some fans. Jaques knows that. And he acknowledges it can get hectic.

“A more upbeat attitude” is how he described the scene.

But the 34-year-old dismisses any suggestion that the crowd is too rough. He figures a little noise and commotion help get the blood pumping before game time.

“I’ve never seen any arguments,” he said, “unless it’s a husband-and-wife type of thing.”

david.wharton@latimes.com

Twitter: @LAtimesWharton