Wednesday of Championship Week, and Time to Discuss the Dumbest Tradition in Sports

Around the country this Saturday college teams will be squaring off in hallowed rivalries and big games. Nebraska plays Oklahoma for the Big-12 title. South Carolina meets Auburn in their rematch, this time for the SEC title, with a berth in the national championship game at stake for the Tigers.

Out west, it's the Apple Cup, Arizona vs Arizona State, and USC at UCLA.

Temperatures will vary, but a few of those games will be played in icy cold. Players and fans will be bundled up, and by the fourth quarter you'll see their breath in the night air.

And late in the quarter a couple of seniors will sneak toward the Gatorade bucket.

It started with Bill Parcells and the New York Giants in their drive to the Superbowl. By now it's become a sports cliche.

I understand it. In the joy of the moment, kids want to blow off a little steam.

But how utterly idiotic to expose their coach to shock and hypothermia to celebrate. A couple of coaches have been injured or gotten seriously sick as a result. George Allen even died a few days after a late game dousing.

Maybe it's just me, and I'm getting too old, but there ought to be a less dangerous way to mark the culmination of a dream. Just carry coach off the field on your shoulders, maybe dunk him in a bucket of confetti or something.