DALLAS — For a long time, maybe the greatest rivalry in college sports commenced each season on a so-called neutral field (because the Cotton Bowl is never neutral, though its partisanship is determined by geography) was played in the most antiquated of stadiums.

Let’s face it. The place was a dump.

One year, the bathrooms didn’t work.

For several seasons, there wasn’t a more uncomfortable chair (stuck to the floor, Jetsons style) in any press box in the nation.

It’s hard to define dingy, but you know it when you see it and that was the Cotton Bowl. Only nobody wanted to leave the Cotton Bowl.

Almost nobody.

E.Z. Million, who might have nothing to do if the rivalry ever becomes a home-and home-affair, came into the office not long ago to make his case to me.

The conspiracy theories he put forward as to why the game has stayed put all these years don’t seem to stand up to the simple fact that all of his hand-wringing has caused no groundswell to move the game, nor have any separate movements of their own accord seeking to give Owen Field and Texas Memorial Stadium one additional home game every two seasons gained any traction. Even in a dump, perhaps the Taft Stadium of college football, fans still wished the game remain in Dallas.

Just try it one time, was Million’s last and best argument.

Only nobody really wants to.

They like the traditon.

They like the trip.

They like the novelty.

They even like the Texas State Fair.

There may be some reasonably sound economic arguments, even talking about one day every two years, to move the game, yet economics stands no chance in the face of history and emotion.