On a recent weekend, I settled in to watch a postseason college football game. More specifically, I was watching the Capital One Go Bowling Military Bowl, a match between two mediocre teams undeserving of competing in a postseason bowl game, and, most certainly, not one as esteemed as the Capital One Go Bowling Military Bowl. Before the first commercial break, I imagined uniformed Army officers in a gleamingly clean bowling alley, paying for bowling shoes with a Capital One card.

Growing up, I watched four bowl games: The Orange Bowl, Sugar Bowl, Cotton Bowl, and finally, the all-important Rose Bowl. I can’t remember what was advertised during those televised contests, but I assume it wasn’t roses, granulated sugar or cotton candy. Today, as I scan the list of college bowl games, I find The Pop Tarts Bowl, The Idaho Potato Bowl, Duke’s Mayo bowl, The Gasparilla Bowl, The First Responders Bowl, and many others, some with just one-word names!

This got me thinking: postseason college football offers so many opportunities for sponsors to make a big splash (and big bucks!) Let me present but a few of the virtually unlimited possibilities for commercials:

The Dr. Dre Dr. Seuss Dr. Scholl’s Bowl, where the rapper sits with a group of preschoolers, reading “The Cat In The Hat” while luxuriating in his Dr. Scholl’s slippers.

The Philips Norelco 5000 Nose Hair Removal Bowl, with Tom Brady demonstrating the perfect technique of ridding one’s nose of nasty stray hairs. (If it turns out that the all-American poster boy has no nasal hair, a good second choice might be OJ Simpson, if he is still alive.)

The Ronzoni Pasta Premaviera Elvis Liberace Bowl, which finds The King and Mr. Liberace (or was that his first name?) enjoying Ronzoni pasta in between sets at a night club in the clouds.

The Batman Returns Again Superman VII Avatar Bowl, where there are interactions of some type that convince viewers to keep buying tickets to these movies which I have never seen and can, therefore, offer no thoughts or ideas about.

The Betty Crocker Julia Childs Martha Stewart Bowl, where an avatar of a prim and proper Betty Crocker, wearing a ‘50s dress and apron, finds Julia ankle-deep in spilled marinara sauce spouting “Save the liver!” while perfectly coiffed Martha looks on with an evil, haughty grin. I’m not sure what is trying to be sold here, but as any good advertiser knows, the only thing that really matters is that people are watching. In that regard, maybe Martha should have a misplaced strand of hair or a missing button?

So many possibilities! American capitalism at its finest! I wonder if establishments in downtown Amherst would consider banding together to sponsor a bowl? For example, a dental practice, violin shop and pizza parlor could depict a cavity being filled to the sweet sounds of a Beethoven sonata, while a pepperoni pizza is prepared for post-procedure consumption.

Then again, the $2 million price tag (at a minimum) for a 30-second ad, might be a bit of a stretch, even if those businesses combined their resources. 

Perhaps they could look into a 15-second spot during a 1 to 3 a.m. rerun of a quarter final game in the 2005 Little League World Series.

Gene Stamell watches sports in Leverett. He welcomes feedback at gstamell@gmail.com.