Years ago, a Minnesota couple was in a restaurant on the Florida Keys. There was a TV with the volume turned down above the bar. There was a college football game on the screen and several patrons took an interest in the belief that they were watching Southern Cal.
Eventually, the game reached halftime and the score came on the screen, indicating this was a battle between the Iowa Hawkeyes and the Minnesota Golden Gophers.
First, there was puzzlement among the viewers, then laughter as one well-oiled gent hooted: "Gophers? What school would call itself the Gophers?"
The color scheme -- USC's cardinal and gold, Minnesota's maroon and gold -- has been the only confusion to be found with these two football programs in the decades the Trojans served as a scourge to proud Big Ten champions.
There was not a more dramatic entrance in sports -- with the charge, Traveler, and with the sun ricocheting off those helmets the color of dried blood -- than USC's a few minutes before a Rose Bowl kickoff.
We are largely naïve to this in Minnesota, for the Gophers, along with Iowa, are the two Big Ten teams never to face the Trojans in a Rose Bowl. Even Indiana, with its one trip to Pasadena, had the misfortune of running into USC and losing 14-3 in the game of 1968.
The Rose Bowl in its grandest form has become a victim of the Bowl Championship Series. For six years, the Rose Bowl resisted the BCS predecessors and stuck with the attraction in place since right after World War II: Representatives of the Big Ten and the Pac-10, kicking off at midafternoon on New Year's, in a magnificent stadium inside a magnificent valley.
Finally, the Rose Bowl, the Big Ten and the Pac-10 saw there was too much money to be had and became full BCS partners.