Road Apples
Jan. 7, 2008
|
Bowled over By Tim Sanders Just one more bowl game–the BCS Championship–and then the college football season is officially over. Ah, the good old days. How I miss ’em. And I can hear everybody out there saying, "Ah, shut up! Betcha miss your hair and your teeth, too!" Well, I still have several hairs and some original teeth left, so I’m almost what I was in the good old days. On the other hand, consider what has happened to college football, which isn’t ... what it was in the good old days. When I was a kid, just after the glaciers receded, leaving those impressive football stadiums carved into our landscape, there were only a handful of college bowl games. There was the Rose Bowl, the Orange Bowl, the Sugar Bowl, the Sun Bowl, the Cotton Bowl, and the Gator Bowl. And maybe one or two others, which I don’t remember. If your team made it to a bowl game in those days, it had to be a pretty good team. In the 1960s, for example, college bowl games were deep, meaningful events. They were spiritual experiences. Now? Well now there are at least 32 major bowl games, and possibly a couple dozen more that I don’t know about. If your favorite college team has a roster of at least 11 players, and a majority of them possess that most important quality of all–a pulse–they’ll land some sort of a bowl game. Nowadays bowl games are passed out like smiley faces in grade school math classes, and they mean about as much. And they have names that don’t conjure up the magic the old names used to conjure up, either: the Chick-fil-A Bowl; the Capital One Bowl; the AutoZone Liberty Bowl; the Konica Minolta Gator Bowl; the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl; the FedEx Orange Bowl; the AT&T Cotton Bowl; the Outback Steakhouse Bowl; the Roady’s Truck Stops Humanitarian Bowl; the Emerald Nuts Bowl; the Meineke Car Care Bowl; the PapaJohns.com Bowl; the GMAC Bowl; etc. There is even something called (seriously) the Insight Bowl. Are they bowl games, or just feel good marketing strategies with a little bit of football thrown in to keep us oldsters happy? And even without the incessant product endorsements, each and every one of our modern day televised bowl games lacks something; or worse, has components it doesn’t need. One of the things today’s bowl games lack, due to political correctness, I suppose, is adequate sideline cheerleader coverage. Here’s a little suggestion for the camera crews next year: every once in a while, when there’s an injury and a lull in the action on the field, instead of showing your viewers five minutes’ worth of some 350 lb. nose tackle having his thigh massaged, turn your cameras to the cheerleaders. Both teams have ’em, and they work hard. They deserve recognition, too. And if one of them is having her thigh massaged, we could live with that. Which brings us to something else which drives me (yes, I know there are folks who just love this part) nuts. One of the major TV networks runs a segment in each NCAA game which features an ex-quarterback turned color analyst out on the town. It goes like this:
GIL (Video of Bunspackler seated at restaurant table): That’s right, Dennis, we’re here at Stan’s Brat ‘n’ Trot Emporium, which is a real landmark in the greater Madison area. What I’ve got before me–and believe me I’m already drooling–is the specialty of the house. DENNIS: Looks yummy, Gil! What is it? GIL: It’s called a "Brat Fry Supreme," although the term "brat fry" is a misnomer. This bratwurst, which weighs a hefty three-quarters of a pound, was actually simmered overnight in a beer and onion marinade, and then grilled, not fried. Stan tops each Brat Fry Supreme with a half cup of pinto beans, along with plenty of sauerkraut, potatoes, cheddar cheese, diced garlic and tomatoes. Then he puts the results into this magnificent sesame seed sticky bun, adds mustard and mayonnaise, and here it is. So watch me eat, Dennis! (Takes large bite) Mmmmmh, it’s good! DENNIS: Mmmmmh! Sure looks good, Gil. There’s some activity on the field now, but probably nothing important. While the Ospreys are breaking their huddle, tell us a little about the history of the bratwurst. GIL (Still at table, chewing furiously): Mwwwmf, mwwwmf, snarkle, slurp ... Gherman wordsh ... brat meansh schopped meath un wurstmeansh ... gulp ... OOOH, MOMMA!! Mmmmmmh! DENNIS: HAHAHA! Great stuff! I’m sure everybody out there enjoys watching you eat as much as I do, Gil! But here we are back in the broadcast booth, with just four seconds remaining in the fifth annual Holley Performance Products Carburetor Bowl. It’s still a tie game, and while we were watching the video of you enjoying that fine meal at Stan’s Brat ‘n’ Trot, the viewers at home may have missed a bit of the action on the field behind us. What just happened was that Woolworth Treakle, the Osprey quarterback, threw a sixty-two yard pass into the end zone, where it was picked off by the Marmots’ DaLearious Johnson, who ran it all the way back to the Osprey 2-yard-line, where he inexplicably stopped and spiked the ball. While we’re waiting, for a ruling, how about we show that again, Gil? GIL Good idea, Dennis! DENNIS: Fine, then ... Well, there’s a time out on the field, so let’s tag along as our color analyst Gil Bunspackler, former quarterback for the Madison State Muskrats, visits one of the fine dining establishments not far from the stadium. We like to call this segment Gil’s Gutbusters, because we actually get to watch Gil eat! GIL (Same stupid video of Bunspackler seated at restaurant table): That’s right, Dennis, we’re here at Stan’s– VIEWERS: AAAAARGH!
|