The Cotton Bowl Without the Cotton Bowl Still Feels Like a Sellout

It's December 31, 2025. I'm watching the Cotton Bowl Classic...

In a billion-dollar NFL dome in Arlington.

And yeah — it still feels wrong 15 years later.

Miami vs. Ohio State should be a hell of a game. Top-10 matchup, College Football Playoff quarterfinal, all the bells and whistles. But for all the spectacle inside AT&T Stadium, something’s missing — and it’s not just the weathered brick and bench seats of the original Cotton Bowl.

It’s the soul of the game.

The Move: Corporate Logic, College Casualty

Let’s be honest: this move wasn’t about fans, tradition, or even football. It was about staying in the national picture — first with the BCS, then with the Playoff.

AT&T Stadium (aka Jerry World) brought luxury suites, climate control, a video board the size of a battleship, and a 100,000+ capacity (with standing room only). It gave the bowl what it needed to stay relevant in a sport obsessed with size, spectacle, and TV ratings.

But in doing so, it ditched everything that made the Cotton Bowl the Cotton Bowl.

What Got Lost

• History: The old stadium at Fair Park hosted 73 straight editions of this game. That’s nearly a century of college football moments — 23 Heisman winners, legendary clashes, and the annual State Fair vibes baked into the setting.
• Identity: The name Cotton Bowl doesn’t just describe a game — it described a place. A stadium, a city core, a fairground environment that felt uniquely Texas. Now it’s just another game in a spaceship of a stadium that could be anywhere.
• Atmosphere: Sure, Jerry World holds more. But Cotton Bowl Stadium still seats 91,000+, and when that place is packed, it feels different. It’s open-air, it’s loud, and it forces you to be in it — not just observe it from behind plexiglass and LED lighting.

Tradition vs. Transaction

The argument for AT&T is airtight if you’re thinking like a TV exec. More seats, more money, fewer weather risks, and a "playoff-caliber venue."

But ask fans — real fans — and you'll get a different answer.

Ask the ones who walked into Fair Park with corndogs in hand and sat on hard, cold metal bleachers to watch legends get made.

Ask the ones who remember what it felt like to see the Cotton Bowl in the Cotton Bowl.

You can put the name on a trophy, but you can’t force a stadium to have history.

Tonight’s Game Is a Spectacle — But It Ain’t the Same

Yes, this is a CFP quarterfinal.

Yes, it’s indoors.

Yes, it’s "better" in every measurable, modern way.

But this game used to mean something more. It used to be somewhere specific. It had a smell, a sound, a setting.

Now it has a sponsor and a roof.