Chair recognizes the fancy woman in the specs.
I know. I know. As a university president, you've been trying to cut back on this "pressure to win" thing, but ma'am, look at the zeroes! Everybody figures the final game alone is going to bank $50 million, easy. We give each of the two schools' conferences $20 million. That buys a whole lot of women's softball uniforms, doesn't it?
Chair recognizes No Neck over there with the busted shoulder pads.
Yep, we've got you in here, too. We take the final $10 million and divide it among the 5,000 or so Division I football lettermen across the country. That's about $2,000 a man, or about 95 cents an hour. You go out there every week and break your bones and spill your type O and risk your hinges in a big business like this, you deserve something.
Chair recognizes the chubby guy in the buffet line.
Oh, yeah. Sportswriters still get in absolutely free.
Whoomp, there it is! Simple, satisfying and, best of all, done without ever having to say those three hideous words....
Car. Quest. Bowl.
All those in favor? Opposed?
Just do it.