It struck me as funny when thinking about Iowa State’s bowl chances.

Sitting alongside respectable bowl games were recently-added ones like the Insight.com bowl and the Galleryfurniture.com Bowl.

These two bowl games do not even feign interest in not selling out. They were corporate from the get-go.

And that’s when it struck me.

The Nokia Sugar Bowl and the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl are far from the only form of sport that have succumbed to pressure from suits.

Stadiums are corporations today.

In the NBA alone, there are four teams that want you to fly the airline that paid for their new stadium name—New Jersey: Continental Airlines Arena, Miami: American Airlines Arena, Chicago: United Center, Utah: Delta Center.

I like to think of the “United” in United Center as a verb instead of a noun. As a Bulls fan, it helps me sleep at night.

There are stadiums that want you to call someone; Washington’s MCI Center.

And there are stadiums that leaves fans dumbfounded as to what vast corporation is the new home of their beloved franchise: The Gund Arena in Cleveland, and ARCO Arena in Sacramento.

Then there is the TD Warehouse Centre in Orlando. Notice the spelling, c-e-n-t-r-e. This spelling indicates sophistication for some. One should pronounce it with a British accent, like “theataar.”

The Magic might have made fans believers out of “Centre” had it not been for the big, ugly “Warehouse” right before it.

The PGA Tour, which is often blamed for not being with it, fell in step when the dollar began banging at the door.

And in so doing, the Tour upped the NBA’s ante.

There are four events that are sponsored by Buick alone. And to keep in touch with you down-home folk, do not forget about the John Deere Classic in late July coming to an Illinois town near you.

The worst however, must be NASCAR. Each flash-in-the-pan driver possesses more promotional ties on himself and his car than Michael Jordan did in his hayday.

And to top it off, NASCAR’s “minor leagues” are named after cheap beer and cigarettes [NASCAR Busch Series and the NASCAR Winston Cup Series] and tools [NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series].

You might think I am over-reacting. It’s no big deal. This is just the ebb and flow of sports in the year 2000.

Besides, the Polo Grounds and the Boston Garden were kooky names anyway.

They may have been kooky, but damn it, they were honest. They had tradition.

There was something almost poetic about the old names. It dances off your tongue to say “Barry Bonds sends a drive deep into the Candlestick Park evening.”

Now, word usage has been replaced by statistical information. Loads of it. It beckons you from the bottom of your sports channels.

Read me. Interpret me. Dispense of me.

Linguistic creativity has been replaced by tired cliches. And today’s impersonal, corporate arenas epitomize this.

In today’s world, “At 3-com Park, in the bottom of the fourth, with a runner on second, and two outs, Barry Bonds ‘boo-ya’ off of Greg Maddux. Bonds’ 35th dinger of the year, this is his fifth career home run off of Maddux.”

But not all is bad. There is still plain old Yankee Stadium.

Comiskey field just changed its name from Old to New Comiskey when it got a face lift. And the World Series will be devoid of corporations attaching themselves to either stadium name for at least one more year.

But there is no slowing them; the Nike’s, Staples’, and ARCO’s of the world are everywhere.

They plant their logo on jerseys. And towels. They even sponsor segments—not commercials—segments, of sports shows.

There is only one corporate name that I like. I laugh out loud when I hear the name. NASCAR endorses a race called The Goodys Headache Powder 500.