Every question, answered.

That's the job it's shaped for. Compressible foam swallows a narrow base and lets the drink heel over; the wide flexible base spreads across the cushion instead of sinking a point into it, and the fins keep the drink from rattling loose when the row jumps up. Push it off level and it settles back.

Yes — soft, sloped, lumpy ground is exactly where this shape does its best work. It flexes over the humps beside the cornhole boards and holds the drink upright at ankle height, instead of leaning until it pours.

It replaces it. Set the base on the ground beside the chair instead of trusting the sagging mesh sleeve — no diameter to match, no shape it has to be sized for, and no armrest flex for it to ride along with.

That's the whole design brief. The base flexes with the cushion and brings the drink back level when the surface shifts underneath it. It resists tipping — not everything: a foot landing square on it still wins. But the ordinary lurch of a room standing up on third-and-goal is exactly what it's built to shrug off.

Go by the base, not the rim. A container base 2 to 3 inches across fits — a standard can, a tallboy, and the 40 oz Stanley all measure in range. A 2-liter soda bottle doesn't; its base runs wider than the ceiling. Handled mugs don't either — the handle lands where a fin needs to grip.

No — nothing clips, clamps, or bolts on. It sits on top of whatever surface the day puts in front of it and moves with you from the tailgate to the living room in one motion.

Yes — it holds at least as well on hard, flat surfaces. The wide base and the grip keep a bumped drink from sliding off a ribbed liner or a flexing cooler lid, which matters just as much as the grass does.

Rinse it, hose it off, or run it through the dishwasher. It's one piece of flexible material with nothing to come apart, and a soaking doesn't bother it.

It's called the Steadi, molded in small runs in Orange, California by Steadi Labs — veteran-founded and patent pending. Every order ships free from steadilabs.com, with 30 days to change your mind.

There's nothing in it that a season of game days typically wears out — it's one piece of molded material, not a fabric sleeve that stretches or a clamp with teeth that wear smooth. The 30-day guarantee, about four Sundays, is the window Steadi Labs stands behind in writing; if it's not holding up on your gear inside that window, email hello@steadilabs.com and it gets made right.

Yes. Ice and packed snow hold it the same way grass, asphalt, or a couch cushion do — the wide base and the fin grip aren't a warm-weather-only trick, and a cold Sunday doesn't change what the base is doing underneath the drink.

The 16 oz Solo cup is about 4.6 inches tall, tapering from a 2.25-inch base up to a 3.6-inch rim, so full of beer, its weight sits high over a narrow footprint — close to the toughest geometry a container can have. That 2.25-inch base is what the fins grip, and it lands well inside the 2-to-3-inch range, so the bottom inch gets held steady even though the cup above it is top-heavy. It resists tipping from the ordinary lurch of a room standing up; a direct hit or a foot straight into the cup still wins.

Both sizes measure a 2.75-inch base, comfortably inside the 2-to-3-inch range, so a Yeti Rambler settles in the same way a can or a Solo cup does — the taper toward the bottom doesn't change what the fins are gripping.

Yes. A slim 12 oz seltzer can runs about 2.25 to 2.26 inches across the base, narrower than a standard can's 2.6 inches, but still well inside the 2-to-3-inch range, so the fins grip it exactly the same way.

It helps there too. The standard banquet folder most spreads sit on runs about 72 by 30 inches on legs roughly 29 inches tall, and repair guides trace most of its wobble to uneven ground under those four legs, not the table itself — which describes almost every tailgate lot. Setting a cup straight on that surface doesn't fix the ground underneath it; a flexible base spreads across whatever unevenness is there instead of balancing on it, the same way it does on a cushion or a stretch of turf.

It's the same floor-drink problem either way. Once the couch runs out of seats, drinks end up on the carpet in the walking lane between the couch, the kitchen, and the TV — exactly where dogs and kids are moving fastest during a game — and cleaning-service guides treat that carpet spill as an expected, recurring cost of hosting. Setting the drink in the base instead of straight on the carpet keeps it upright against the ordinary bumps of a room in motion; it isn't a barrier against a direct collision from a running kid or a dog.

One per drink in play is the simple way to count it. Regulation cornhole boards sit twenty-seven feet apart, so a single game already puts drinks at both ends of that court, and a full couch plus the overflow on the floor usually adds up to more spots than people plan for. Covering the actual head count — chairs in the lot, seats and floor space at home — is what keeps a drink from defaulting back to bare grass or bare carpet in between.

It fits either kind of Sunday, which is what makes it work as a gift for someone who does both — the same base that holds a drink on a camp chair's patch of grass also holds one on their couch. It ships free and is molded in Orange, California, the same as any other order.