I attended the opening of the Supercross season this month in Anaheim, California, by invitation of our friends at Feld Entertainment. Spoiler alert: it was an adrenaline-filled event that ended with me immediately checking the schedule to figure out when I could attend another one.

But when I refer to the event, I’m not just talking about the race that began at 4:00 PM.

The day began nearly seven hours earlier at FanFest, with ticket holders arriving early to kick things off. Between qualifying races, sponsorship activations, food trucks, rider meet-and-greets, and additional entertainment, I was immediately indoctrinated into the culture.

Lifelong fans roamed Angel Stadium and the surrounding parking lot as comfortably as if it were their own backyards.

The idea of a FanFest—or an event before the event—isn’t new. Tailgating itself is a decades-old, community-led, repeatable blueprint, and a culture all its own. Tailgating before a football game is naturally baked into how you plan the day.

What’s shifted is the expectation.

The events and attractions I’ve been visiting over the last year have opened my eyes to these moments not as “nice-to-haves,” but as essential parts of the experience. Beyond Supercross, that includes the Savannah Bananas’ lively pregame rituals, Monster Jam’s Pit Party (which gets you so close to the trucks you’ve never felt smaller in your life), and even Disney queues—entertaining, interactive, and designed to jumpstart the story before you ever get on the ride.

The effort to design around existing human behavior is what separates a product from an event—and an event from an experience.

As I took it all in, I watched first-timers eagerly anticipating demonstrations, energized fans meeting their heroes, enthusiasts scoping out upgrades for their own bikes, and multiple generations experiencing something together—passing excitement both down and up the family tree.

All of this happened before a single race result was even posted.

We’re in a moment of rising ticket prices and rising expectations. Competition for attention continues to intensify, and now more than ever, audiences are asking a simple question: What’s in it for me?

More time on site isn’t automatically the answer (and I know I’m not alone in believing there’s nothing better than a Broadway show that runs 90 minutes and starts promptly at 7:00 PM). But when added time results in a deeper connection and a higher emotional ROI, it becomes a powerful differentiator in how fandom grows.

The next step in getting people off their couches may not be redefining the event itself—but redesigning around the people experiencing it.

Less focus on conversion, more on indoctrination. And a reminder that the real start time isn’t the one printed on the ticket.