The Miami Hurricanes have made the move to Dolphin Stadium official, foretelling doom for the neglected and ailing Orange Bowl. Despite being one of college football's most authentic arenas since 1937--"Yes, that's real, aggressive tropical fungus cracking the support pillars of the northside stands"--the groovy, pastel-lettered OB seems destined for the wrecking ball.
One must bear in mind that Miami's gotten its investment out of the now-decrepit stadium a hundred times over: the original was built for $340,000, a pittance compared to what its baseball-hosting replacement will cost. (Oh, and it will most likely be a home for the Marlins that replaces it. Worthless, sissified, and pray-for-death-boring baseball.) According to an alumni listserve email, $200 million in improvements would "only provide basic and mostly infrastructural upgrades." Still, losing the alien transmission light towers, open endzones, and sweltering squalor of the Orange Bowl constitutes a memory loss for college football as a collective.
And it's not like it couldn't be restored with 200 mil. Frankly, you give us a hundred grand, and we'll have the place flossin, lawya.
A stadium befitting the 7th Floor Crew. Drop your pants, show 'em your third leg.
If you don't think an entire stadium plated with chrome in the hateful sunlight of a Miami afternoon wouldn't be the most intimidating homefield advantage in all of college football, then you're indeed on some fine Colombian booger sugar, sir. RED 32! RED 32! AAAIIIIIGGGGHH GOD MY EYYYYEEEEESSS!!!!!