The Bowl Economy

For those who’ve missed me, we traveled to New Orleans for Rice’s first bowl game since 1961, then on to San Antonio to visit relatives who are without Internet access.

So I took a brief vacation.

Let us start the return with good memories.  Given that many of us considered it a once-in-a-lifetime event (the last Rice bowl appearance was in 1961) about 7,000 Owls descended on New Orleans for something called the R&L Carriers New Orleans Bowl.

The Rice crowd was so passionate that when we arrived on the afternoon of the game they were completely sold out of Rice shirts, sweats, hats, scarves, and anything else referencing the event. (We eventually cadged some bowl t-shirts from a street vendor, after the game.)

But while 7,000 was a big impressive number to School President David Leebron, it didn’t look like all that much in the 70,000 seat Superdome. Only the bottom two tiers of seats were sold at all, and the crowd on the middle dome tier was sparse. Even on the ground level the end zones were empty.

Still, these were Rice people. We’re not college football fans by nature. I found these two folks near our seats when we arrived. Nice folks. Note that they had each brought a book with them to stave off the boredom. (The final score was 41-17, with Rice getting the 17 and a school called Troy University in Alabama the 41.)

All of which leads to the main topic of this post, the Bowl Economy.

Until this game I had no Clue what it was all about. Now I do. Bowls are about pushing people to travel, over the holiday period, to cities throughout the Sun Belt. (There are also games in Toronto and Detroit — travel is the heart of the matter.)

For the R&L Bowl New Orleans, which has been having a tough time this year drawing any visitors (what with the hurricane damage, the incredible crime, the only real industry making a comeback being sin and all) got 23,000 middle-class patrons in its better hotels, on its streets, in its restaurants. The people who work in these establishments welcomed us warmly. Very warmly. They are true American heroes, these people, who refuse to let the fact that the American government continues to abandon them (there are no plans yet for re-building the levees, and thus no business insurance available for 2007 at any price) destroy their spirit.

Want to know what tenacity is about? Want to know what courage is about, the true human spirit? Go to New Orleans. Have a good time.

There is no longer any New Orleans east of downtown, and very little to its west. Even downtown is battered, half-shuttered, the damage still evidence everywhere. I took this picture outside our hotel, a block from the casino.

But go. Before the next storm hits. Before it’s gone. It will change you, for the better.

But back to the Bowl Economy. Cities around the country depend on these games to give their local economies a kick-in-the-fanny. Abandoning this system for a college play-off would require a round of 32, and it still wouldn’t be the same. Because the Rice fans, like the Troy fans, and all the other fans who go to these games, go to one extra game a year. Even with a 32-team play-off, some fans would be shelling out for up to 5 trips, 5 games in widely dispersed locations, and those of the best teams would, as a result, likely only show up for the last two or three.

It could be done, but it would be difficult.

Politically you’re talking about the current NCAA and a new organization, the BCS, having a final knock-down, drag-out fight. And it’s uncertain whether the NCAA would win this. The BCS has been using football, and the profits it delivers the top 30 or so schools (the vast majority of schools, including Rice, lose millions on football each year) in order to monopolize all of college athletics. They have tied up TV money for their other teams and crush the opposition at all levels, with very few exceptions.

These exceptions — George Mason basketball, Rice baseball, Boise State football and Santa Clara soccer among them — come at enormous cost. They are becoming fewer every year. If things continue at the present rate, the BCS will drive the rest of the NCAA out of TV altogether, and that’s their intention. At which point the difference between college and professional athletics disappear, and you’d might as well pay the kids. Maybe that’s not a bad idea.

Against this you have one really great time, one which won’t happen again in our lifetime, unless we get some meaningful change and revenue sharing.  Were it up to me we’d have a 32 team tournament, built around the current bowl system — top teams would play 17 games, but that’s just one more than the top 1-AA teams like Montana and Massachusetts play already.

The NCAA would spread the wealth across the college football landscape, unlike the BCS, which is dominated financially by a very small number of schools who use the funds only to pay coaches outrageous salaries, build enormous weight rooms, and for self-aggrandizement.

College athletics is dieing. Bottom line. If it’s not already dead. Someone needs to bring the corpse back to life, on behalf of the meaning of college, which is education, and not a $5 million salary for the next hack who takes the Alabama job.

One more point before I go. The preceding sermon was the topic of the Rice MOB halftime show, with a "Saint BCS" in his sleigh handing out bags of money to people wearing Ohio State, Michigan and Texas helmets, while throwing coal on those wearing Rice and Troy headgear. In case the subtle point was missed, he then brought out a giant screw and stabbed the Rice and Troy kids with it.

As always, the MOB got to the point.