My sources on the street tell me the Chiefs lost again today. If that’s true, well then dagnabit! (And, please, pardon my French.)
But fear not, football fans, I’m hear to help you wean yourselves off the brain-busting game many of us grew up loving.
I quit following the Chiefs last year, and this year I gave up college football, even though — as I’ve written before — parting ways with the Marching Jayhawks has been awfully difficult.
Last month I wrote that instead of trying to raise $350 million for improvements to Lawrence’s Memorial Stadium, KU administrators should just drop football and raise a far smaller sum with an eye toward making KU the Marching Band Capital of the Midwest. Yes, of the en-tire Mid-West!
My idea was greeted with hosannas and hip-hip-hoorahs (to the very best of my recollection) from hordes of commenters. Despite the overwhelming response, it was not enough, unfortunately, to move the KU president to do the right thing. All I’ve heard from Lawrence on my Grand Plan is a faintly ringing bell from Campanile hill.
But now that the Chiefs are putting their arrows back in their quivers, I want to expand on my KU idea; I want to take it to a whole new level.
The New Grand Plan is three-pronged. (And let me warn you, don’t get in the way or you could get hurt.)
Step One: Disgruntled Chiefs fans rise up in a chorus that is louder than any “Home of the Chiefs” refrain during the singing of the National Anthem at Arrowhead and demand that owner Clark Hunt move the team out of Kansas City.
Hey, the team has had a nice 55-year run here in KC, and just like that 45-year-old airport we’ve got up in Platte County, it’s time for a change. So, out with the Chiefs. I don’t really care where they go, but how sweet would it be if they up and went to Oakland, where the Raiders are about to bail out? Why, those crazy fans out there could start dressing up in Indian garb instead of as Hells Angels members. Everybody would get a change of scenery!
Step Two: Reconfigure Arrowhead into a horseshoe-shaped field that would accommodate up to three marching bands at once — one on each side and one at the bottom of the “shoe.” (Besides being excellent “band width,” the conformation would let devotees of the current KCI keep memories of the beloved A/B/C terminals close to their hearts.)
I had envisioned KU’s Memorial Stadium being converted to host The Annual Great Midwest Marching Band Championships, but with Arrowhead available, we could alternate between Kansas City and Lawrence. Alternating would be a bit unusual, I realize, but those of you old enough to recall the old Kansas City-Omaha Kings of the NBA know that bifurcation of high-level competition is nothing new to Kansas City. On days when they were the Kansas City Kings, the team played at Kemper Arena, and on days when they were the Omaha Kings, they played in an arena somewhere up I-29. It was a bea-U-ti-ful thing, indeed, until the team’s general manager was fired after being caught reusing marked postage stamps (I shit you not) and the team moved to Sacramento.
Step Three: Here’s what seals the deal. Instead of $60 for game-day parking, the parking fee goes to $6. That’s SIX bucks. Admission will be ten bucks (10), and hot dogs, a “regular” Pepsi and peanuts will be $2.50 each. Too much, you say? What the hell, make it two bucks. We’ll make up in volume what we lose to higher pricing.
And get this: We’re going to have great halftime shows…Flag football! Not just sweaty guys, though — CO-ED flag football. (My heart is racing!) But only for 15 minutes. Then it’s back to the Main Event: The Annual Great…Midwest…Marching…Band…Championships!
Are you with me? Huh? Ok, then!
People, these are revolutionary times and they call for revolutionary remedies to tired old thinking. Now, break huddle and let’s GO!
I taped the Grambling- Southern game just to watch the half time “Battle of the Bands.” Of course I fast forwarded thru the first half and then erased it after the show.
I love you, Marcie.
I think the long holiday weekend, coupled with perhaps an OD of turkey and stuffing (dressing? stuffing? oh, who cares?) did something to your brain …
Oh, and you’re “here” to help. :-)