Texas Stadium, meet your maker.
by Jeffery Racheff
Football. Cheese. Explosions. These are the cornerstones of every ten year-old boy’s dream. And now, that dream is going to come true. Kraft Foods, the world’s second-largest food and beverage company, has acquired the rights to the demolition of Texas Stadium, the former home of the Dallas Cowboys, and one lucky kid will get to blow it all up.
But destroying the Cowboys’ former home will be no easy gig. To become the “dynamite kid,” you have to win a national essay contest and write about how you’ve made an “explosive difference in the community.” You also have to be between 8 and 12 years old. Kraft sees this as a new way to market its food to consumers who like big puffs of flame and smoke. The cheese giant acquired the rights to the demolition in exchange for only $75,000 to the town of Irving, Texas, and another $75,000 in products to local food banks.
Now, cheese may sound like a strange sponsor for the destruction of a building, but it’s not like there’s a leading brand of dynamite that could sponsor instead. In fact, the event will be linked to Kraft’s upcoming release of a “Cheddar Explosion” line of macaroni products. This is one of those “it’s about time” moments. Food manufacturer’s have long marketed their snacks as containing explosions of flavor, so it’s about time they found an actual explosion to sponsor.
And what does Jerry Jones think of all this? The Cowboys owner still can’t wrangle a sponsor for the name of his new stadium, and yet the annihilation of his old one goes for just 75 grand. You’d think he would get Krafty and come up with some equally cheesy scheme to put a benefactor on the new house.
Of course, there are some who feel the former stadium’s cheese-sponsored detonation is in bad taste. After all, the building is not exploding — it’s imploding. And that’s a destructiveness you don’t really want happening in your mouth. Also, Kraft may think it’s harmless to have a kid push a button and destroy a million tons of concrete, but I can bet there will be plenty parents who will be on edge with a newly inspired amateur explosives expert in the neighborhood.
Still, it’s hard to argue with a situation where everyone seems to win. Kraft gets the media attention and requisite sponsorship benefits, the town of Irving gets exposure and money to help with the costs, and charities will get free food and funding. If only they could fill the building with actual cheese — billions of Velveeta cubes or something — then the explosion could feed locals for weeks.
