Every question, answered.

Hard, flat surfaces are home turf. The wide footprint puts flexible material flat against the smooth plank instead of a slick cup bottom, and the fins grip the drink by its base — so a nudged cup resists sliding and tipping instead of scooting off down the row. The hum of a stomping grandstand is exactly the kind of motion it's built to shrug off.

That's the classic bleacher spill — everybody up for the big play, nobody watching their feet. The base holds the drink steady through the shake and settles it back if it's knocked off level. It resists tipping; it isn't magic — a full-force kick is still a full-force kick — but the incidental bumps of a standing row are precisely its job.

Yes — the 40 oz Stanley fits, handle and all, because its handle rides high on the cup, away from the fins. For everything else, measure the bottom, not the rim: a base 2 to 3 inches across settles in. Handled coffee mugs are the exception — the low handle lands right where a fin needs to grip.

No, and that's on purpose. A bleacher plank is a wide, flat box of aluminum with no rail at seat level — which is exactly why spring-jaw clamps have nowhere to bite. Nothing here clamps, hooks, or bolts. It sits on the plank, beside your hip or between your feet, and leaves with you at the final whistle.

It's a single flat piece of flexible material — no frame, no hardware. It lies flat in the clear bag or rides in the blanket roll without claiming real space. Gate rules are about the bag itself, and this asks very little of one.

Either. The seat plank beside your hip keeps the drink up out of the walkway, which is worth doing at a packed tournament — the footboard is the row's hallway. But it does the same work one step down between your feet, and on either plank a gripped drink beats a loose one.

No. Wet aluminum is slick for cups, but soaking does nothing to the base — it's one piece of flexible material with nothing to rust and nothing to come apart. Shake it off, set it down, drop the drink in.

The fins hold from the sides at the bottom inch — the rolled base, which is the stiffest part of even a wax-paper fountain cup. It's a grip, not a squeeze: enough to keep the cup from scooting on smooth metal, and the cup comes back out the way it went in.

Rinse it under a tap or run it through the dishwasher. It's one piece of injection-molded flexible material — no seams, no fabric sleeve, nothing to take apart.

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

Most families do fine with one, moved between the seat plank and the footboard as the day goes — coffee before first pitch, a tumbler through the afternoon games. A second one earns its keep on back-to-back tripleheader Saturdays: one for whoever's holding down the row, one for whoever's ferrying snacks and walking tacos up the steps.

Yes. Gym bleachers and outdoor grandstands are both smooth, hard, flat decking at seat height, and that's exactly the surface the wide base and fin grip are built for — hard, flat surfaces work at least as well as anything softer. Nothing here needs a rail or a mount either way, so the same base moves from a Friday-night grandstand to a Saturday gym tournament without any change in how it sits.

Take the koozie off first. A bare 12-ounce can runs about 2.6 inches across the base, comfortably inside the 2-to-3-inch range that settles in — but a foam koozie adds enough bulk around the outside to push most cans past the 3.15-inch flex ceiling the fins can seat. The can goes in bare; the koozie rides in the tote.

Those are the one common bleacher drink that doesn't fit, and it's not really about size — a juice box or a soft pouch has no rigid base at all for the fins to grip, just a flexible carton or foil pack. It's built to be held in a hand, not set down, and that doesn't change on a bleacher plank.

No — it's a base, not an insulated sleeve. It holds whatever you set in it steady on the plank; a Stanley tumbler or an insulated steel bottle does its own job of keeping the drink hot or cold. Pair the two and the base's job is keeping that tumbler upright through a stomping fourth quarter, not managing the temperature inside it.

It's a practical one. Nearly every veteran travel-ball or football parent already owns a hook-over stadium seat with a cup sleeve that's too small for what they actually carry now — this covers the part that seat doesn't, works the moment it's out of the box, and rides in the same tote or gear bag without adding anything to set up.

It's one piece of injection-molded flexible material — no folding arm to work loose, no fabric sleeve to fray, no clamp hinge to wear out from bench vibration. Rinse field dust off between games and there's nothing to rust, corrode, or come apart between now and the last game of the season.

Because that's a facilities purchase, not a parent's decision. The specialty companies that retrofit cup holders onto stadium seating advertise orders 'from a couple to 56,000-plus' and list installs at pro venues, but they bolt permanently to rails and seat backs. Bench-style bleachers at school and rec fields usually don't even have a rail at seat height to bolt one to, and no parent can bring a stadium's retrofit program to their own row.