An Immodest--Even Super--Proposal
So the Super Bowl (an uncharacteristically-good game) was in Miami. Again.
You know the drill: Miami, New Orleans, Tampa, a domed Southwestern city, a California stadium; rinse, lather, repeat.
(Don't believe me? Take a look: Miami, ten times; New Orleans, nine; Pasadena, CA, five; Tampa, four; San Diego, three; and several others with two. In fact, of the 44 Super Bowls, only FOUR have taken place north of Atlanta: 1981 in Detroit, 1991 in Minneapolis, 2005 in Detroit again [all three of those in domes]--and 1984. In Palo Alto, California, thirty miles south of San Francisco.)
Hell with that. Football is a sport with history, and it is an Outdoor. Friggin'. Game.
Let's honor those facts, and throw some monetary tourist-dollar love to the other cities in the NFL.
So I propose again what I've been proposing for years: Have a set rotation for Super Bowl sites, and base it on franchise longevity.
Under this plan, the first up would be Chicago's Soldier Field.
After that, it becomes a bit murky, but allow me to fix it: The next-oldest franchise still extant is the Cardinals. But most of their history is steeped in their time in Chicago, before moving to St. Louis for 27 years, until their 21 years in Arizona. So they get credited for the history since 1988 only. Similarly, the Indianapolis Colts don't get credit for the Baltimore years.
Conversely, the cities which have had their teams stolen from them (Baltimore, Cleveland, et cetera) before finally getting a team again would be credited with the history of the teams that went before.
This plan would have multiple benefits: Spreading the monies around to the WHOLE League, rewarding teams and towns whose histories built the NFL, showing love to some sites which aren't already drunk on the tourist dollar, finally and for the first time penalizing owners who saw greener pastures and bolted cities which built their teams, giving more teams a chance at attempting to play in a hometown Super Bowl, and allowing weather to play a part.
Weather is, after all, a fundamental force in football. Really--what difference does it make who wins the toss if you can't choose to hurt your opponent with the wind in his face? And what drama is there in field goals in domes? Further, you have history on your side: Imagine if games were memorable for their conditions as well as their combatants: The Ice Bowl. The Fog Bowl. The Cats-and-Dogs Bowl. The Rapture Bowl (after which the rules were changed when only nineteen players from both teams combined remained on the football field and the earthly plane). Once again, you would have strategy paramount in the games, rather than which team had the bigger bankbook.
My idea, I believe, is a good one--which is why it will likely never fly. But if the NFL doesn't enact this plan, then it may as well say "screw it" and move the permanent Super Bowl site to Vegas or Honolulu--or create its own tourist attraction, "Football Island", somewhere in the Pacific.
You know the drill: Miami, New Orleans, Tampa, a domed Southwestern city, a California stadium; rinse, lather, repeat.
(Don't believe me? Take a look: Miami, ten times; New Orleans, nine; Pasadena, CA, five; Tampa, four; San Diego, three; and several others with two. In fact, of the 44 Super Bowls, only FOUR have taken place north of Atlanta: 1981 in Detroit, 1991 in Minneapolis, 2005 in Detroit again [all three of those in domes]--and 1984. In Palo Alto, California, thirty miles south of San Francisco.)
Hell with that. Football is a sport with history, and it is an Outdoor. Friggin'. Game.
Let's honor those facts, and throw some monetary tourist-dollar love to the other cities in the NFL.
So I propose again what I've been proposing for years: Have a set rotation for Super Bowl sites, and base it on franchise longevity.
Under this plan, the first up would be Chicago's Soldier Field.
After that, it becomes a bit murky, but allow me to fix it: The next-oldest franchise still extant is the Cardinals. But most of their history is steeped in their time in Chicago, before moving to St. Louis for 27 years, until their 21 years in Arizona. So they get credited for the history since 1988 only. Similarly, the Indianapolis Colts don't get credit for the Baltimore years.
Conversely, the cities which have had their teams stolen from them (Baltimore, Cleveland, et cetera) before finally getting a team again would be credited with the history of the teams that went before.
This plan would have multiple benefits: Spreading the monies around to the WHOLE League, rewarding teams and towns whose histories built the NFL, showing love to some sites which aren't already drunk on the tourist dollar, finally and for the first time penalizing owners who saw greener pastures and bolted cities which built their teams, giving more teams a chance at attempting to play in a hometown Super Bowl, and allowing weather to play a part.
Weather is, after all, a fundamental force in football. Really--what difference does it make who wins the toss if you can't choose to hurt your opponent with the wind in his face? And what drama is there in field goals in domes? Further, you have history on your side: Imagine if games were memorable for their conditions as well as their combatants: The Ice Bowl. The Fog Bowl. The Cats-and-Dogs Bowl. The Rapture Bowl (after which the rules were changed when only nineteen players from both teams combined remained on the football field and the earthly plane). Once again, you would have strategy paramount in the games, rather than which team had the bigger bankbook.
My idea, I believe, is a good one--which is why it will likely never fly. But if the NFL doesn't enact this plan, then it may as well say "screw it" and move the permanent Super Bowl site to Vegas or Honolulu--or create its own tourist attraction, "Football Island", somewhere in the Pacific.