The Jumbotron That Ate Dallas

            It is an understatement to say that I am a football fan.  I am actually a football fanatic.  Literally.  In fact, I need to be in a twelve-step recovery program for football fans:

                         Hello.  My name is Bill, and it has been one week since

                         my last Tennessee Vols football game.

              The problem, of course, is that I am not in recovery.  I am, in fact, at the very beginning of another autumn football binge.

            But there is hope.  There is something I am encountering every time I walk into Neyland Stadium these days, and it may just make me give up football and head for the nearest golf course.

            It’s called .  .  . the Jumbotron.

            I don’t know who invented the Jumbotron.  Ralph Jumbo?  Or maybe it was he and his partner, Bubba Tron.  But whoever invented this diabolical machine, I would like to sack or drop-kick through the goal post of hell.

            I am absolutely convinced that the Jumbotron is the worst invention of all time, and it is ruining my enjoyment of football.

            The Jumbotron is a ridiculous over-sized combination scoreboard and TV screen.  It generally sits over the stands behind one of the end zones and dwarfs the entire stadium.  In fact, if you visit Rock City these days, you can not only see seven states, you can also see the Neyland Stadium Jumbotron.

            I have two problems with the Jumbotron.  First, it converts the thrill and pageantry of a college football game into drive-in movie theater.  After every play, 100,000 fans at Neyland face south and watch the instant replay on the Jumbotron.  It’s just like the Highway 51 drive-in was when I was in high school, except it’s not as much fun, because you don’t sit in the back seat and try to get to third base with your girlfriend.  (For the record, during trips to the Highway 51 drive-in when I was in high school, I never got to third base.  I never got to second base.  Heck, I never even got an infield hit.  The best I ever got was a bunt.)

            The second problem I have with the Jumbotron is that during time outs, you don’t get to hear the band play your college fight song.  No, once again, you have to turn your attention to the Jumbotron either to watch a race between hot dogs or a “music video” featuring rap singers (sic) screaming about football.  I don’t know which is worse.  I hate rap music, but I am afraid I prefer it over the pathetic sight of a 100,000 fans cheering a couple of frankfurters as if they were Usain Bolt and Tyson Gay.

            But as bad as the Neyland Stadium Jumbotron is, it pales in comparison to the one found in the new Cowboys Stadium, the billion dollar home of the Dallas Cowboys.

            The Cowboys Stadium Jumbotron weights 600 tons, and it does not sit behind an end zone.  It literally hovers over the football field like a giant UFO from a really bad sci-fi movie.  The Jumbotron That Ate Dallas.

            The Cowboys Stadium Jumbotron is so big that it’s getting in the way of the game.  And when I say it’s getting in the way of the game, I mean it’s getting in the way of the game.

            During a pre-season game in August, a punt came straight back down to the field after hitting the Jumbotron.  After the game, the NFL asked Dallas Cowboys’ owner Jerry Jones to raise the Jumbotron, but Jones, who has a Jumbotron-sized ego, refused.

So, believe it or not, the NFL ruled that if a punt hits the Jumbotron again, there will be a .  .  . are you ready for this?  .  .  . A do-over!

            That’s right, a do-over.  Now that’s big league.  That’s what we would do when I was playing sandlot ball as a kid when a kick hit a street lamp.

            So that’s what modern football has come to.  When you have to make a choice between the actual game of football and the Jumbotron, we’re going to go with the Jumbotron!

            Why don’t we just get rid of the game entirely?  It only gets in the way of entertainment.  I say everybody just come to the stadium and watch Rudy or some other football movie on the Jumbotron.  Frankly, it’s better than watching the Vols lose to Florida or Alabama.

            My wife and I could sit on the back row and, maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally get to second base.