Cabbages and Kings A Modest Proposal

I FIT HAS done nothing else, the continuing squabble over letting the Boston Patriots use Harvard Stadium has clearly outlined the number one problem with pro football today: the game is played in stadiums.

Consider the headaches a sports stadium causes: Local governments-always hard pressed for funds-must often divert money from other urgent needs to build a stadium for their professional football team. Many long-time residents of a city are uprooted from their homes to clear the site of the stadium; those who remain nearby are subjected to endless Sundays when cars line their streets bumper to bumper, and crowds of football fans heartlessly trample their carefully-tended lawns.

Yet, as the saying goes, one must not throw out the baby with the bath water. Professional football is undoubtedly a sport, which provides untold enjoyment to millions of Americans. Watching the Vikings and the Cowboys collide, many a football buff can relive those long-ago days when he played third-string tackle for David H. Hickman High School. To rob fans of these priceless moments because of the traumas which stadiums cause would be unjust indeed.

Technology, fortunately, has provided an easy solution to this agonizing problem. How do most Americans watch professional football? On television, of course. The tens of thousands who watch a game at the stadium are as nothing compared to the tens of millions who watch the same game on the tube. Similarly, television revenues-not paid admissions-provide the financial fuel for pro teams.

One need only carry technology to its logical limit. Instead of having pro football games played on a score of stadiums located in the centers of the nation's major cities, let them take place-without spectators-in one stadium located in a remote rural area, or better yet, in a Hollywood stadium mock-up left over from 1930's college movies. This stadium would never be idle; each day-or even every five hours-two pro teams could play a game there.

The games would be taped and shown on a special television network-either free or paid, it does not matter. Continuous broadcast of pro games on this channel would enable the fans to see all the games he wants to see, instead of being frustrated by the arbitrary sports programming choices of the current network moguls. The nation's voracious appetite for pro football would thus, for the first time in history, stand a chance of being satisfied.

Nor would those few archaic fans who now receive a special charge from going to the stadium to see programs be left in the wilderness. They could go to special theatres, similar to the ones where championship boxing matches are now sometimes televised.

These theatres would be kept at a controlled temperature of 15 degrees, with optional snow. Liquor and bad, overpriced hot dogs would be sold. Local high school bands and cheerleaders would strut about at half-time. The died-in-the-wool fan would have everything he goes now goes to the stadium for, plus the benefits of expert TV commentary, instant replays, and point of view cameras.

Everything else would remain the same. Twenty-six fortunate U. S. cities would still possess pro football teams, whose players would buy homes, be the idols of the local youth, and otherwise bolster the local economy and morals. The only losers would be the sportswriters, who would no longer have an expense-paid, liquor-laden tour of a different city each weekend. But then, we all have to make little sacrifices to solve the agonizing crises of our times.