Popeye the Sailor Man was normally a quiet, peace-loving guy, but when pushed to the brink, he sprang into action, saying, “That’s all I can stands. I can’t stands no more!” I reached my brink on December 27 when West Virginia’s head coach was doused with a huge container of Duke’s mayonnaise after his team beat North Carolina in (you guessed it) the Duke’s Mayonnaise Bowl. Then there was the Pop Tart Bowl, where, after the game a giant Pop Tart rushed onto the field and let itself be eaten (literally) by the victorious Kansas State Wildcats. And following the Cheez-It Citrus Bowl, a cheese mascot emerged to hold up a box of product in front of the announcing team. Of course, at the Duke’s Mayo Bowl, the sponsor didn’t even have the decency to wait until after the game for shameless plugs. Throughout the game, the announcing team kept sampling various mayo-friendly recipes, like mayonnaise tacos, and pepperoni rolls with mayo. WTF?!!! Had I tuned into a football game or an episode of Celebrity Chef? What’s next? The Adam & Eve Bowl where announcers sample sex toys? Truth be told, though, I didn’t reach my brink from watching a three-hour commercial for Duke’s Mayonnaise. I reached it because I’ve had it with bowl games altogether.
Up until 1945, there were five major college football bowl games: the Rose, the Orange, the Sugar, the Cotton, and the Gator. Back then, and even into the 1950s and ’60s when the Peach and Liberty bowls were added, New Year’s holiday games really meant something. Fans got to see the top 14 teams go head-to-head for bragging rights to an imaginary national championship. Was it a scientific way of choosing a national champ? Of course not. But participating schools received some money and a ton of exposure for their athletic program. That, in turn, drove recruiting efforts, not just for athletes, but also for rank-and-file students and professors. Unfortunately, that level of prestige was short-lived.
Slowly but surely, the NCAA kept allowing cities and sponsors to underwrite additional bowl games such as the Independence Bowl, the Holiday Bowl, and the Fiesta Bowl. Even worse, the bowls themselves took a back seat to the sponsors. The Peach Bowl was no longer the Peach Bowl. It was the Chick-fil-A Bowl. The Orange Bowl became the Capital One Bowl, and the Cotton Bowl morphed into the Goodyear Bowl. It was a double whammy: too many bowl games and too much commercialization.
As with anything, the more you multiply the product, the more you diminish its intrinsic value. A collector’s coin of the 2025 presidential inauguration, for example, would seem to be of great value. But if 10 million of the coins are minted, the coin becomes less special. And so it is with college football bowl games. Once there were five major bowls. Today there are 42. Today it’s all about television ad revenues and product placement, never mind the quality and prestige of the game. Does anyone really believe there are 84 teams who deserve to be in a nationally televised bowl game? Hell, all you have to do is win half of your games against weak opponents, and, voila! You are invited to a bowl game. Worse still, so many college players are entering the NFL draft portal now, that when you tune in to watch a bowl game, chances are the top players aren’t even playing. That’s OK with me, though. I just wish the sponsors would opt out of the games the same as the players.
Bowl games today are no longer special. They are just long-form advertisements for sponsors like Bad Boys Mowers, Barstool Sports, and Scooter’s Coffee. In the immortal words of Popeye, “It’s all I can stands. I can’t stands no more!”
Too Damn Many Bowl Games (and Sponsors)
Popeye the Sailor Man was normally a quiet, peace-loving guy, but when pushed to the brink, he sprang into action, saying, “That’s all I can stands. I can’t stands no more!” I reached my brink on December 27 when West Virginia’s head coach was doused with a huge container of Duke’s mayonnaise after his team beat North Carolina in (you guessed it) the Duke’s Mayonnaise Bowl. Then there was the Pop Tart Bowl, where, after the game a giant Pop Tart rushed onto the field and let itself be eaten (literally) by the victorious Kansas State Wildcats. And following the Cheez-It Citrus Bowl, a cheese mascot emerged to hold up a box of product in front of the announcing team. Of course, at the Duke’s Mayo Bowl, the sponsor didn’t even have the decency to wait until after the game for shameless plugs. Throughout the game, the announcing team kept sampling various mayo-friendly recipes, like mayonnaise tacos, and pepperoni rolls with mayo. WTF?!!! Had I tuned into a football game or an episode of Celebrity Chef? What’s next? The Adam & Eve Bowl where announcers sample sex toys? Truth be told, though, I didn’t reach my brink from watching a three-hour commercial for Duke’s Mayonnaise. I reached it because I’ve had it with bowl games altogether.
Up until 1945, there were five major college football bowl games: the Rose, the Orange, the Sugar, the Cotton, and the Gator. Back then, and even into the 1950s and ’60s when the Peach and Liberty bowls were added, New Year’s holiday games really meant something. Fans got to see the top 14 teams go head-to-head for bragging rights to an imaginary national championship. Was it a scientific way of choosing a national champ? Of course not. But participating schools received some money and a ton of exposure for their athletic program. That, in turn, drove recruiting efforts, not just for athletes, but also for rank-and-file students and professors. Unfortunately, that level of prestige was short-lived.
Slowly but surely, the NCAA kept allowing cities and sponsors to underwrite additional bowl games such as the Independence Bowl, the Holiday Bowl, and the Fiesta Bowl. Even worse, the bowls themselves took a back seat to the sponsors. The Peach Bowl was no longer the Peach Bowl. It was the Chick-fil-A Bowl. The Orange Bowl became the Capital One Bowl, and the Cotton Bowl morphed into the Goodyear Bowl. It was a double whammy: too many bowl games and too much commercialization.
As with anything, the more you multiply the product, the more you diminish its intrinsic value. A collector’s coin of the 2025 presidential inauguration, for example, would seem to be of great value. But if 10 million of the coins are minted, the coin becomes less special. And so it is with college football bowl games. Once there were five major bowls. Today there are 42. Today it’s all about television ad revenues and product placement, never mind the quality and prestige of the game. Does anyone really believe there are 84 teams who deserve to be in a nationally televised bowl game? Hell, all you have to do is win half of your games against weak opponents, and, voila! You are invited to a bowl game. Worse still, so many college players are entering the NFL draft portal now, that when you tune in to watch a bowl game, chances are the top players aren’t even playing. That’s OK with me, though. I just wish the sponsors would opt out of the games the same as the players.
Bowl games today are no longer special. They are just long-form advertisements for sponsors like Bad Boys Mowers, Barstool Sports, and Scooter’s Coffee. In the immortal words of Popeye, “It’s all I can stands. I can’t stands no more!”