You have seen film clips of football games from the 30’s. Can you imagine one of those games - at a critical point - screeching to a halt. So that a car maker could drive his newest model around the outside of the field. When the rolling advertisement was finished, an advert referee would signal for the game to resume. Can you picture such a thing?

Can you picture Babe Ruth, bases loaded, cooling his heels? Waiting for an insurance company’s banner to be trotted across the outfield. Can you imagine that?

Can you conjur up the idea that the old Brooklyn Dodgers would start all home games at 1.10. Because the One-Ten Restaurant chain had paid the owners a few thousand.

This is what pro and college “sport” has been reduced to. If sport was a person, it would feel like a hooker. It should. Because it is.

Two things reminded me of this this week. I listened to a Tigers and A’s playoff game on satellite radio. Twice the anouncer used the term “television assisted”. He told us the game was a “television assisted” three hours and so many minutes.

He was using verbal camouflage. To try to hide the fact that the event was an advertising party. And that baseball was like the girl hired to provide the entertainment. “Television assisted” meant that the play was delayed at various times. So that another commercial or two could be squeezed in.