Illustration by Josh Hagler

Friday October 12, 2001

At exactly 5:35 p.m. - according to my VCR - I had an epiphany last Thursday, one of those random strokes of brilliance that comes but once or twice a year.

I was watching the only college football game of the evening on ESPN, a riveting affair between the Louisville and Colorado State. Actually, the game was meaningless and it sucked, but that's not the point. The point is that it was the only game on.

No, wait, that's not the point either. My revelation occurred when ESPN showed a wide shot of the University of Louisville's football stadium. There it was in big, bold letters: "Papa John's Louisville Stadium."

Then, for some reason, my mind immediately wandered to the University of Arizona's current budget fiasco.

Budget deficit. Corporate sponsorship. Big football stadium.

Aha! There it was, all right. The University of Louisville easily made seven figures by allowing Papa John's Pizza to slap its name on the school's football stadium - guaranteed. The same could, and should, happen here.

To be honest, when I first thought of the idea, I wasn't crazy about it. I've never liked the trend of stadiums, ballparks and arenas, historic and new alike, named and renamed for the likes of Pepsi, RCA and Coors - although I'm willing to bet that renaming the stadium after a beer would be the least controversial to most students.

Nonetheless, auctioning off the name of Arizona Stadium isn't a bad idea considering the situation we face. Wells Fargo forked over $5 million to Arizona State University when the ASU Activity Center was renamed Wells Fargo Arena. And that is a 10,000-seat basketball arena. We're talking about a 50,000-seat football stadium here, transmitted to a national and regional audience several times a year. It's certainly worth considering.

I mean, really, how many of us actually refer to it as "Arizona Stadium" anyway? I'm willing to bet that most of us, myself included, simply call it, "the football stadium," or even just, "the stadium." In fact, I'll also bet that a few UA students didn't even know what the stadium was called.

Think about it: an out-of-towner asks you where the library is. "The library? Keep going straight, it's in front of the football stadium." Or if you're about to go to a football game. "All right, I'll meet you at the stadium in an hour or so."

There's absolutely no doubt that a smorgasbord of corporations out there would be willing to pay big bucks in exchange for public endorsement via our stadium. Pepsi, McDonald's, Bank of America or, God forbid, even Nike, could be among the contenders to fit the $5-$10 million bill.

Would this be selling out? To quote Vice President Dick Cheney, "Oh yeah, big time." But so what? I know, I know, we all hate big business. Tough. Financially speaking, we're stuck between a rock and a hard place right now, and our education is most important. Forget the Nike comment; I'm sure we can find a halfway decent corporation that doesn't deal in sweatshops to help further fund the UA.

Some may argue: "But wouldn't that money just go back into the athletic department?" Probably. But it doesn't matter. If the money were to go directly toward professors' salaries, great. If not, then the UA would be able to use the money that they would have otherwise spent on sports in academic areas instead. We should also keep in mind that if it were not for a sizeable contribution from the athletic department, the new Student Union might not exist.

Nothing would change for the worse. The stadium would still be where it always has been. UA students and alumni would still fill the stands. Our football team would still get its ass kicked. The only thing that would change would be the greater capacity of our university to provide for our scholastic needs.

Besides, Pepsi, McDonald's and Domino's already have a firm stranglehold on this university. If we're going to sell our academic souls to big business, let's get serious.