By Carol Coultas,Business Writer

LEWISTON – Football fan Dan Gove has been to the last four Super Bowls and never seen a play.

Never watched the players take the field. Never jumped for joy at a last-minute Vinatieri field goal. Never even bought a beer or a souvenir from a stadium vendor.

That’s because Gove has never been a spectator at football’s biggest show. Instead, he’s run a Super Bowl concession stand – usually within spitting distance of the Big Game.

“I could hear the crowd in Tampa, though, because we were right across from the stadium,” said Gove. “I listened to Sting rehearse for four hours one day. I know the song “Desert Rose” by heart.”

Gove has a whole locker full of such memories. The place he operated on Bourbon Street during Super Bowl XXXVI stayed open until 3 a.m. because there were still shoppers out in the wee hours in New Orleans. In San Diego, his concession tent was right at the beginning of a pier where Fox taped its “Best Damn Sports Show Period.” Sports celebrities like Joe Theismann hung out and browsed the wares.

In Houston, Gove marveled that at night, all the club-hopping couples were dressed alike: men in leather jackets and gloves, women in skimpy halter tops.

“I thought it was unique,” said Gove, noting that in Maine, a gentleman would have offered his jacket to his shivering lady friend. “Different cultures, I guess.”

It’s the chance to see different cities and different cultures that keep Gove signing up for more Super Bowl tours. Now in his fifth year, he enjoys the chance to travel, get a break from Maine’s frigid Februaries and make a little money, as well.

Although the last part isn’t much of an incentive. Gove estimates he probably earns about minimum wage since he typically works 14- to 16-hour days while selling items for N&D Sports, a sporting goods company based in Connecticut.

The company contacts him every year, pays for his air fare and accommodations in the host city and arranges the location and inventory for the concession stand. Everything is NFL-licensed Super Bowl products: caps, sweatshirts, shot glasses . . . you name it.

Gove typically flies out three or four days in advance of the Super Bowl with his concession partner, retired Auburn firefighter Al Milburn. They set up their stand and sell goods from early morning until there are no more customers.

The items range from $400 embroidered leather jackets to $6 Super Bowl pins. The pace gets pretty hectic, since buyers will often line up five deep to purchase things.

“It’s the ability to handle the customers quickly that matters,” said Gove, versus the ability to explain the difference between a 100 percent cotton T-shirt and a poly-cotton T-shirt.

His 10 years as a manager of a Service Merchandise store – especially during the Christmas rush – were good training. Now Gove is an assistant manager at Office Max.

But retail at the Super Bowl is a little different. Gove operates without a cash register or calculator. He adds the prices of all the items in his head, tells a customer what the total cost is and either accepts a credit card or cash. He keeps a wad of bills in his hand just to handle the cash transactions.

And no dickering is allowed. Gove said he has people ask him if they spend $100, what will he toss in for free. One guy offered to buy four of the leather jackets for $1,000 instead of the ticketed $1,600. Gove said he couldn’t help him.

“But he came back the day after the Super Bowl, and we still had some jackets, so I was able to make him happy then,” said Gove. The day after the game, everything gets marked down 25 to 30 percent, and the following day to 50 percent.

And the competition is intense. Gove estimates there are 10 to 12 vendors within a two-block area outside the Super Bowl stadium and another 25 to 30 at local hotels.

Some of those hotel concessions are also run by N&D Sports.

In fact, Gove said he might try to snag one of those locations next year when the Super Bowl is in Detroit. Besides staying warm, he’d also have a chance to meet some stars like his friend, Debbie Sherman, did. The retired teacher from Wayne goes to the Super Bowl to sell merchandise for N&D at one of its hotel locations.

At one Super Bowl, a man approached her concession and she struck up a conversation. She noted his athletic build and asked if he played football. He said yes. She asked if he’d ever played in a Super Bowl.

A few times, was his response.

“Well, I don’t know anything about football or the players, but my husband does,” recounted Gove. “Can you tell me your name, so I can tell my husband?”

“Joe Montana.”

Another time, she refused a sale to Jerry Rice because the signature on his credit card didn’t match the receipt.

“Yeah, maybe I can convince her to swap . . .” mused Gove.