Take, for example, the myriad gifts we receive for participating in the game. We're pampered with a smorgasbord of sweat suits and a shopping spree in the Graceland of electronic devices. We kick back in a four-star hotel on the Mississippi River, in one of the most vibrant towns this side of the "Old Man."
For the seven days we spend in New Orleans, we received a per diem check totaling $450.71. That equates to $64.39 in daily spending cash, when we already receive roughly two meals and two snacks from the team per day. The Sugar Bowl committee also brought us to a bowling alley, New Orleans' finest steakhouse and a Mardi Gras float parade that included a visit from the Saints' cheerleaders. What on Earth could we possibly need all this money for?
Here's the scary part: I can think of a few options.
Across the street from our digs is a 115,000-square-foot casino. Six blocks northwest of our hotel is the most decadent stretch of pavement known to man; trust me, men know it all too well. Bourbon Street boasts 10 gentlemen's clubs along its eight blocks. I'm not saying our players have succumbed -- I'm simply shedding light on the gravity of our temptations.
And yet we're giving 18- to 22-year-old testosterone factories $64.39 per day to spend as they wish? Have we lost our minds?
