Not quite Classic

And so, welcome to 2020 -- and I must say, the Blob is disappointed. So far it looks just like 1920, only with the good parts cut out.

I got up this morning expecting to see George Jetson stuck in traffic in his flying car on his way to work at Spacely Sprockets, and instead it's just the same old Mister Coffee in the same old (for New Year's Day!) 1989 Fiesta Bowl mug. And no opportunity at all to yell at Jane to stop this crazy thing.

I suppose if I turn on the TV I'd see the same old President's Trophy float -- 10,000 impatiens in the shape of Joe Namath getting All The Benefits He Deserves! --  in the same old Tournament of Roses Parade, too. Maybe I'll even watch some football this afternoon, although it won't be the same because instead of the traditional Cotton-Sugar-Rose-Orange lineup, it'll be something called the Outback Bowl and something called the Vrbo Citrus Bowl and the Rose Bowl Presented By Northwestern Mutual. And of course the Allstate Sugar Bowl.

Also, three of the four games are on cable, which the Luddite Blob, no fan of extortion, ditched years ago. Also, the one bowl that isn't on cable is the Vrbo Citrus and not the Rose or Sugar, and what's up with that?

I know. Get off my lawn you damn kids, and all that.

But it's a little dismaying that 2020 doesn't feel all futuristic and science fiction-y, except in ways it shouldn't. Modernity and maximizing TV ratings have ruined the New Year's Day bowls for me, because half of them aren't played on New Year's Day anymore. Even my relatively recent New Year's Day tradition -- the NHL Winter Classic -- comes up short this year.

Understand, I love the Winter Classic. I love seeing NHL teams playing hockey outdoors in throwback unis, even if it's snowing to beat the band. I love seeing goaltenders wearing toques over their goalie masks. I love seeing NHL bench reporter Pierre McGuire standing outside freezing his butt off while he asks one of the coaches what was up with that power play.

This year, however, it is not the Boston Bruins playing the Montreal Canadiens in Fenway Park, or even the Chicago Blackhawks playing the Toronto Maple Leafs in Soldier Field. Oh, heavens no.

This year, it's the Dallas Stars -- a not-even-Original-Six franchise that's not even the original Minnesota North Stars anymore -- playing the Nashville Predators in the Cotton Bowl. In freaking Dallas, for God's sake.

This is not my idea of a Winter Classic, two southern cities playing in the south. First of all, Notre Dame should be playing Texas in the Cotton Bowl today, Joe Theismann and Tom Gatewood vs. James Street and Steve Worster 'n' them. Second of all, the Predators have only been around since 1998.

What are they going to wear for throwbacks? Something that harkens back to the golden era of 2010?

If the Blob ruled the world, only Original Six, Second Six or old WHA teams would be allowed to play in the Winter Classic, and in places like Boston or Buffalo or Detroit, where they actually get by-God winter. I mean, you know what the average high temperature is in Dallas on January 1?

It's 57.

Know what the forecast high today is?

It's 59.

Fifty-nine is not hockey weather. It's not even baseball weather in early April north of the Mason-Dixon line.

No chance today to see Pierre freezing his butt off, in other words. And what fun will that be?