About 20 years ago, after periodically experimenting with hosting the NCAA Men’s Division 1 Basketball’s Final Four in cavernous sites like Houston’s Astrodome and the Louisiana Superdome (as it was called at the time) with seating capacities in excess of 60,000, the association finally decided that forevermore, the top level of college basketball competition would crown its champions in venues designed for football. The idea of watching or playing college hoops in football stadiums is radical enough; deciding championships there is one step beyond.
The last true basketball arena to house the Final Four was the Continental Airlines Arena at the Meadowlands in New Jersey in 1996, but that place was so dark — someone thought using a 60-watt bulb to illuminate a 20,000 seat arena was a good idea — that it probably sprung the idea to move the event to football stadiums permanently.
“Heck, the fans can’t see the games anyway, so we might as well move them to the Jerry Jones Dome.”
TAKE A WILD GUESS WHY IT HAPPENS
From a financial standpoint — the only one that matters, evidently — this makes perfect sense. Collecting admissions, concessions — to become even more lucrative once the ban on the sale of alcoholic beverages at these events is lifted in time for the 2019 tournament — and parking from four or five times the number of people attending a game than in a smaller venue designed for basketball, the selling of more hotel rooms in the host city, etc., means this year the city and business owners of San Antonio, Texas are happily reaping the benefits of increased traffic from visitors, if only for a few days.
AND THE FANS?
But what of the other human beings involved in this event? The fans? For an average price of a little over $1,800 for the entire weekend and about $1,000 for the championship game, one can gain entry into the Alamodome for what is likely a less than stellar fan experience, if actually watching the game carries any importance. From the looks of it, only the fans in the lower berth of the arena can actually see the players well enough to distinguish one from another; those sitting upstairs are so far removed from the court, they’d be better off watching the action on the big screen; tantamount to paying top dollar to watch the semifinals and/or the championship game on television.
AND THE PLAYERS?
The players? Imagine having spent the entire season playing in gymnasiums of various sizes ranging from big league to high school cozy, only to close in on the pinnacle of your sport and having to adjust to these odd surroundings, almost like playing outdoors. Sure, Villanova just disposed of Kansas in the second semifinal game largely on the strength of three-point shooting, but several players on their roster have been through this already.
That the players don’t participate in the financial windfall associated with this event is an entirely different discussion.
AND THE ATMOSPHERE?
We’ve heard folks complain that there doesn’t appear to be much buzz during the Final Four contests. There’s actually plenty of it, but most of the attendees are neutral, and when a small, isolated group of fans scream from the outer reaches of a domed stadium, the voices gets lost in space after traveling a few yards.
Scream at a friend standing across the street and he’ll hear you. That same friend standing three blocks away will not. Same concept.
The Final Four sites for the next few years have already been decided, with the homes of the NFL’s Minnesota Vikings, Atlanta Falcons and Indianapolis Colts — in that order — each scheduled to be reconfigured for basketball in late March..
This is not going away, so we might as well have some fun with it.
With the almighty ducat as the driving force, do not even feign surprise if — in the near future — one of the following takes place at an oversized sports palace near you:
THE WORLD SERIES IN “FOOTBALL ONLY” STADIUMS
This isn’t even original. in 1958, the greedy Walter O’Malley, owner of the Dodgers at the time, left a devoted fan base behind in Brooklyn, but what he was really leaving was a stadium (Ebbets Field) with a seating capacity of about 31,000. He got one look at the Los Angeles Coliseum’s 90,000 seats and fell in love, even though there was no way to simulate a real baseball experience there — not with the left field wall standing 200 feet from home plate.
Imagine a Yankees – Dodgers World Series with games alternating between the LA Coliseum and Met Life Stadium in New Jersey. Put up a net over the left field wall to avoid a homerun derby and pile in an additional 35,000 fans per game that the baseball stadiums can’t accommodate. The Texas Rangers could pile in 105,000 for World Series home games at AT&T Stadium.
THE SUPER BOWL AT CHURCHILL DOWNS
Make the historic Churchill Downs Racetrack in Louisville, Kentucky the permanent site of the Super Bowl. The place holds 170,000 spectators for horse racing, and reconfigured for football could squeeze in thousands more without becoming a fire hazard. The players wouldn’t do any more harm to the surface than 20 horses on a muddy track. And who cares that fewer than 20 percent of the paying customers will actually see the game? Put up a couple of large screens and watch the money flow in.
Why not?
CENTRALIZE THE FIRST ROUND OF THE NBA PLAYOFFS
Lay out four basketball courts at one of the nation’s larger venues, AAU-style. Alternate sites annually between cities with domed stadiums like Atlanta, Detroit, Indianapolis, San Antonio, Houston, Arlington, Phoenix and Minneapolis (in other words, the same places hosting Final Fours). Play four games simultaneously, eight games each day. A daily five-hour hoops festival for one week featuring the best players in the world, and you get the first round of the NBA Playoffs out of the way quicker without travel fatigue.
OK, so you won’t be able to track every game closely, but no one watches the first-round games on NBATV, either.
Make it happen.
