If Deathcare Sponsored College Bowl Games

Is it just me, or are the college bowl game sponsorships getting a little out of hand? We all understand the OGs: Cotton, Peach, Sugar, and the granddaddy of them all, the Rose Bowl (#RollTide). Traditional sponsors like Allstate and Chick-Fil-A are usually represented by field-size logos, a seemingly 80% share of ad slots, and announcer name-drops every five minutes. But many of the bowl games we’ve seen over the last few weeks seem to have come with a megadose of brand-heavy shenanigans.

Children will never forget the nightmare-inducing image of a “live” pastry being dramatically lowered into a life-size toaster during the Pop-Tart Bowl (RIP Strawberry). Moms across the world collectively cringed at the idea of cleaning up the vats of mayonnaise that were sacrificed for non-edible purposes at the Duke’s Mayo Bowl. Winning coaches are drowned in french fries (Famous Idaho Potato Bowl), eggnog (DirecTV Holiday Bowl), cheese crackers (Cheez-It Bowl) and cereal (Tony the Tiger Sun Bowl) …and perhaps may be losing games intentionally just to avoid this fate.

So what would happen if deathcare brands sponsored bowl games? Obviously you’d want your money’s worth, because you’d be shelling out at least $500,000 for the privilege. One can only imagine …

Potential bowl game names (insert sponsoring company in the blank):

_____ Cremation Bowl
_____ Church Truck Bowl
_____ Cemetery Bowl
_____ Retort Bowl
_____ Graveside Bowl
_____ Urn Bowl
_____ Funeral Bowl

Mascot mayhem:

Ernie the Urn
Rocky the Parting Stone
Touchie the Thumbprint

Halftime show options:

A full Gospel choir
A Grateful Dead tribute band
The local church’s organ player pounding out non-copyrighted hymns

Sideline chicanery:

Monument Moment — As the players run out of the tunnel they touch a gravestone featuring the other team’s name and the date of the game for good luck.
Reaper Run — A Grim Reaper runs out of the tunnel ahead of the players, pointing his scythe menacingly at the other team.
Coach’s Coach — Each coach is brought out to the field in a horse-drawn hearse and calls plays from a podium.
Gary the Grief Dog — Of course, there’s a golden retriever wandering the sidelines, led by a handler in a black suit.
Turnover Casket — Players who intercept the ball are honored by getting to rest in a bougie casket (featuring a full panel with the team’s logo) until the next play.
Opt-Out Pew — Players who opt out of the bowl games to avoid injury have to sit in a designated pew on the sideline … in silence … and in suits.
Baller Blankets — Between plays, players drape customized woven tribute blankets over their shoulders.
Medical Tent — Duh. It’s a graveside canopy setup, complete with green carpet and a velvet-covered call cot.

Other funeral-themed fun:

The pre-game ceremony is a procession rather than a parade, and instead of visiting Disneyland, players visit local crematories, cemeteries, and funeral homes.
Instead of patches on their jerseys, players sport black armbands.
The crowd is asked to black-out the stadium, and everyone wears black except for that one fan no one recognizes and probably doesn’t even follow either of the teams; he shows up in nothing but body paint.
Snack areas are converted into pot-luck buffets.
Jumbotrons basically become the world’s biggest choreographed slideshow screens.
Instead of the White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army riff, the university’s bands play the funeral march … basically on a loop.
Suited stadium ushers escort players’ family members to special seating areas on the 50-yard-line.
During night games everyone gets a cemetery candle to hold up when the lights go out.
Winning coaches are celebrated with a dunking in liquid from a giant embalming fluid container.
Complimentary cards and emails are sent to members of the losing team at regular intervals after the game.
Games are not televised, but are live-streamed.
The trophy, of course, is shaped like an urn, and for the post-game celebration players are given confetti in a plastic bag within a cardboard box.