Ahhh, the smell of charcoal grills wafting from the stadium parking lot, mixing with the scent of burnt hot dogs and the smoke coming from Mike Norvell’s hotseat. Listen closely and you’ll hear it: the crack of a beer can opening, the crunch of tortilla chips being crushed under a tailgater’s flip-flops and the faint sound of Taylor Swift warming up her vocal chords for the inevitable Travis …