Every fall- at some point between the Labor Day weekend college football kick-off and the end of the regular season around Thanksgiving with the Army vs. Navy game- my love affair with college football fades away.
Is this because my favorite team’s pride is stuck in the mud of a not Bowl Bound season? No, because I really don’t have any favorites. The guys who show the most passion, the strongest desire to win, no matter the odds, and who aren’t fazed by the sportscasters’ hype for the usual top seeds earn my fanship.
Is it because I love perusing fall craft shows for homemade soaps and copper sculptures after the leaves turn brilliant shades of red and gold and wood smoke wafts through the air. No. After all, I can DVR any day games to watch after I stash my latest cache.
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Is this because after weeks of channel surfing through all of the games I still cannot find a winner for the coolest uniform? No. I’ll always find a winner. This year it’s a tie between the Baylor Bears’ all black attire with a bear claw on the sleeve and a gold/chrome helmet and the Oregon Ducks’ shoulder wings with their chrome and winged helmets.
My “Same Time, Next Year” love affair fades when the list of post-season games (35 in all) commands 9.5” of column space with titles that are more suited for the Financial, Travel or Dining-Out sections of newspapers or websites than the sports pages.
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This morning, while I crawled on the floor trimming my bison-like 170 pound Newfoundland, my husband and I discussed this. His contention is that the million dollar price tag owners spend to get a bowl game named after their business is worth the pride players feel for a winning season along with the enjoyment of being treated like the princes of pigskin that they so deserve, considering the wear and tear on them physically. If this gives the company some advertising time- so be it.
To me, these games meant more when they were named after something that actually could have been put in a bowl, like Cotton, Roses, Oranges, and Sugar. Besides them the Tangerine and Bluebonnet Bowls, as well as the Sun, Gator and Liberty competitions prodded players’ motivation. And although I’d be hard-put to fit the last three in bowls, at least literal ones, all nine of them deserved neon light time-not the energy-saver bulbs of today.
Yes, I understand that the winners go back to their campuses with money –from small pails to extra-large buckets, and that this money can build fitness centers and what-all that benefit the college’s complete student body. That’s a good thing.
I just can’t help but think of the chart in veterinarians’ offices that shows the offspring of one unspayed female feline in a few short generations. We’re talking in the million kitten range. Fifty years ago, college teams vied for nine slots. Now the players put their physical and mental all on the line for thirty-five post-season crowns. Exponentially, that means in another fifty years, we will field about three and a half times more bowl games, or around 122.
Hmm. I just checked on http://espn.go.com. As of 2013, 123 Division 1A football teams already exist (one is not bowl-eligible this year, so the total is 122). Doesn’t that mean that in 2063, every team will be a winner?
I mean, since it takes two to tangle it up on the gridiron, who will play whom? Maybe they will have to go at it until only two teams rise from the fray. How many weeks will that take? This is one English person that needs some math folks to answer that question. I’m guessing that it will take until the following Labor Day weekend, when it all begins again.
Goodness, I just checked the calendar. Time to grab some leftover Christmas cookies and settle into my red chair in the family room for the remaining 16 bowl games.
Until next week,
Connie
