Homogenized Glory

Lucas Oil Stadium (photo by SounderBruce, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

As I write this, the University of Oregon Ducks football squad is the number one-ranked team in the land, the prospect of a national championship squarely in its sights. They’re one step closer to this goal, as the Ducks vanquished the Penn State Nittany Lions yesterday evening to capture the 2024 Big Ten Conference Championship. As an unwavering Oregon fan, I’m ecstatic. And yet, my exhilaration is tempered by structural changes across the college football landscape, of which the venue for the Big Ten Championship game—Lucas Oil Stadium, home field of the Indianapolis Colts of the National Football League—is symptomatic. 

Modern NFL stadiums, while architecturally impressive, often feel "sterile" as venues for college football conference championships. This sterility stems from their hyper-engineered environments, prioritizing luxury and versatility over the intimate, idiosyncratic qualities that define college football traditions. Architecturally, their sleek, uniform designs and controlled atmospheres lack the contextual character of on-campus stadiums, which are deeply tied to collegiate identity. 

The newest NFL stadiums excel at accommodating large crowds and delivering innovative amenities, but I believe this very efficiency dilutes the distinct, emotional connection fans have with their teams. Their expansive, cavernous interiors, and retractable roofs neutralize the raw energy and unpredictability of outdoor games, a hallmark of college football. Iconic collegiate venues resonate because they are imperfect yet authentic, with quirks that evoke history and rivalry. 

While pro stadiums offer a polished stage for grand events, their neutrality homogenizes the college football experience, making it feel more like a spectacle than a tradition. For college football fans, who value legacy and connection, the architectural identity of the venue plays a crucial role in shaping the intensity and nostalgia that make the sport unique. 

Favoring modern NFL stadiums as host sites for college football championships or playoff games (1) mirrors broader cultural shifts in the sport, driven by conference realignment, N.I.L. and the transfer portal. These architectural and systemic changes together dilute the tradition and intimacy many older fans treasure. The increased professionalization of college football through N.I.L. and the transfer portal fosters a more transactional, less enduring sense of team culture, eroding the long-term relationships between players, schools, and fans that once defined the sport. Fans accustomed to grassroots traditions now experience a landscape where player movement and monetization align more with professional sports than collegiate ideals. The architectural sterility of the NFL venues amplifies this sense of loss, symbolizing the shift from community-driven tradition to a market-driven spectacle. 

For old-timers like me, these changes highlight a departure from the deeply personal and regional essence of college football, transforming it into a polished but impersonal product. It’s a different game—shiny and exciting but often bereft of the quirks and stories that drew me to the sport in the first place. 

(1)  The first round of the 12-team playoff games will occur at the home field of the higher-seeded team in each matchup. The Ducks—who will enjoy a bye and not have to play in the first round—will appear in the quarterfinals at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena on January 1st, a classic bowl site. Thankfully, the “Granddaddy of Them All” remains a prestigious vestige of college football’s traditions.