Mr. Write's Page

This is one of those “why, back in my day” posts, in which I put on my curmudgeon hat and bemoan something that was better in the old days.

But I aim to make a legitimate point, by cracky, so bear with me.

—————

For an old guy with plenty of football seasons behind me, I have attended only one college bowl game. It was the 1966 Cotton Bowl in Dallas. Georgia beat SMU 24-9.

Back then, there were nine post-season bowl games:

The Rose Bowl in Pasadena, established in 1902
The Orange Bowl in Miami, 1935
The Sugar Bowl in New Orleans, 1935
The Sun Bowl in El Paso, 1935
The Cotton Bowl in Dallas, 1937
The Gator Bowl in Jacksonville, 1945
The Tangerine Bowl in Orlando, 1946
The Bluebonnet Bowl in Houston, 1959
The Liberty Bowl in Memphis, 1959

Today, all nine are still around, and the Rose Bowl is still the Rose Bowl. But the other eight, one by one, sold their naming rights to corporations.

Ah, free enterprise. It’s as American as apple pie.

The Orange Bowl is now the Capitol One Orange Bowl.
The Sugar Bowl is the Allstate Sugar Bowl.
The Sun Bowl is the Hyundai Sun Bowl.
The Cotton Bowl is the Goodyear Cotton Bowl.
The Gator Bowl is the TaxSlayer Bowl.
The Tangerine Bowl is the Buffalo Wild Wings Citrus Bowl.
The Bluebonnet Bowl is the AdvoCare V100 Texas Bowl.
The Liberty Bowl is the AutoZone Liberty Bowl.

In case you didn’t know, TaxSlayer is a do-it-yourself online tax software company.

AdvoCare (they are advocates who care) sells nutritional supplements. V100 is a “tropical chew” — $35 for a pouch of 60. They must work wonders.

Which leads to my next point. Have you counted the number of bowl games out there lately? The college bowl industry now operates an astonishing 41 games around the country.

In addition to the nine bowls listed previously, we also have:

— The Air Force Reserve Celebration Bowl in Atlanta
— The AutoNation Cure Bowl, Orlando
— The BattleFrog Fiesta Bowl, Glendale (BattleFrog stages local obstacle races)
— The Belk Bowl, Charlotte
— The Birmingham Bowl (Formerly the Papa John’s Bowl, now owned by ESPN)
— The Camping World Independence Bowl, Shreveport
— The Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl, Atlanta
— The Famous Idaho Potato Bowl, Boise
— The Foster Farms Bowl, Santa Clara
— The Franklin American Mortgage Music City Bowl, Nashville
— The Gildan New Mexico Bowl, Albuquerque (For Gildan t-shirts)
— The GoDaddy Bowl, Mobile
— The Hawai’i Bowl, Honolulu
— The Holiday Bowl, San Diego (Previous sponsor National University pulled out)
— The Lockheed Martin Armed Forces Bowl, Fort Worth
— The Marmot Boca Raton Bowl, Boca Raton
— The Miami Beach Bowl, Miami Beach (Owned by the Marlins)
— The Military Bowl Presented by Northrop Grumman, Annapolis
— The Motel 6 Cactus Bowl, Tempe
— The New Era Pinstripe Bowl, New York City (For New Era baseball caps)
— The Nova Home Loans Arizona Bowl, Tucson
— The Outback Bowl, Tampa
— The Popeyes Bahamas Bowl, Nassau
— The Quick Lane Bowl, Detroit (For the Quick Lane auto repair chain)
— The R+L Carriers New Orleans Bowl, New Orleans
— The Raycom Media Camellia Bowl, Montgomery
— The Royal Purple Las Vegas Bowl, Las Vegas (Royal Purple makes synthetic oil)
— The Russell Athletic Bowl, Orlando
— The San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl, San Diego
— The St. Petersburg Bowl, St. Petersburg (Bitcoin pulled out as sponsor)
— The Valero Alamo Bowl, San Antonio
— The Zaxby’s Heart of Dallas Bowl, Dallas

Mind-boggling.

I realize the selling of bowl names is a minor matter compared to, say, gun deaths or global warming, but this particular commercialization strikes me as especially tacky and offensive.

Yes, a bowl needs a name. But renaming it to hype a product? That’s beyond unsavory; it’s vulgar and sleazy.

It’s like a car dealership drawing attention to itself with an inflatable gorilla.

It’s like the NASCAR tradition of cars and drivers festooned with as many logos as will fit the space.

I understand and respect the role and the power of advertising. My college degree is in Advertising. I spent most of my working life in the business.

And when a marketing practice triggers my internal “tacky and offensive” detector, it tells me the practice is over the line.

Too bad those companies couldn’t simply buy some ad space, or run some TV spots, or sponsor the PBS News Hour, and leave the bowls alone.

Bowl games, when you think about it, have limited appeal. Except in the case of the very top bowls where the national title is determined, most people don’t care all that much. Only the fans at the two competing colleges, plus some people in the bowl’s host city, are paying attention. Not much of an audience, really.

I also should point out that the corporate sponsors are not the only villains here. The bowls themselves are more than willing to sell out. Clearly, all parties have a healthy mercenary spirit, wholly unburdened by shame.

Ah, free enterprise. It’s as American as apple pie.

In order to end this on an upbeat note, let me add some recollections about that Cotton Bowl game I attended in Dallas in 1966.

I was in the Air Force at the time, and I had just spent the Christmas holidays with my family in Georgia. The trip back to my duty station in New Mexico had me passing through Dallas at just the right time, so Dad surprised me with a Cotton Bowl ticket.

The Bulldogs had a terrific season in 1966. Vince Dooley was in his third year as coach. That year, Georgia lost only one game (by one point) and shared the SEC title with Alabama. The Cotton Bowl win was gravy.

That was a long time ago, but I still remember a marvelous series of downs in the 4th quarter, when Dooley sent a star defensive lineman into the game as quarterback. Yes, quarterback.

The player was two-time All-American tackle George “The General” Patton, the team captain, playing in the last game of his college career.

Patton, 6’3″ and 210 pounds, had been an All-State quarterback at his high school in Alabama. He came to UGA as a quarterback in his freshman year.

But after watching Patton during practice, Dooley asked if he would consider trying out as a defensive tackle.

“I told him it didn’t matter to me,” Patton said. “I just wanted a job.”

On the first play of his defensive career, Patton sacked Alabama’s Joe Namath for an eight-yard loss. For the next two seasons, Patton was the terror of the SEC.

So, at the Cotton Bowl in 1966, with Georgia comfortably leading SMU, Dooley sent Patton into the game for one series of downs in his old position of quarterback.

Patton handed off the ball twice, ran the ball himself for a 14-yard gain, and heaved one mighty pass downfield. It fell 20 yards beyond the nearest receiver.

For me, the highlight of the game was seeing Patton let the ball fly and watching the tremendous arc of that pass.

What a supremely satisfying moment it must have been for Patton.

Dooley and the Dogs celebrate in Dallas, December 1966.

George “The General” Patton.