THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, February 23, 1996 TAG: 9602230016
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A10 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
LENGTH: Short : 41 lines
It's sad. An opposing team of time and circumstance has backed the Oyster Bowl football game, a once-stellar charitable enterprise and community celebration, into its own end zone.
For most of its 49 years the annual event was a classic in the fullest sense: More than $3 million was raised for the Shriners Hospitals for Crippled and Burned Children; residents and visitors alike experienced the joys of a popular parade; they watched college rivals compete on the turf of Foreman Field in what was both an athletic and social occasion.
But just as the turf at Foreman has gone from natural to artificial, our region, more fragmented than most and more subject to population turnover, has changed, as have the demands of the colleges. Interest waned. With temporary seating, games of the past twice drew more than 32,000 people, but last fall Virginia Military Institute and Georgia Southern clashed before a mere 8,414.
Larchmont residents within hailing distance of Foreman's loudspeaker saw the decline in annual increments. Accustomed to bowl-goers' cars monopolizing neighborhood curb space, they witnessed demand for parking drop along with attendance.
Oyster Bowl officials wanted to keep the game alive, considering but then scrapping the idea of returning it to a high-school contest, as was the first match-up in 1946. They finally decided that, without a new stadium that would induce top college teams to come, there could be no Oyster Bowl. In the end the game not only had failed to produce money for the Shriners Hospitals; it hadn't even covered expenses. It was time to quit.
We offer no solution. But we'd rejoice if someday the sponsors could resurrect the Oyster Bowl. It is rich in tradition. It has enriched many lives. by CNB