long-term lease

On the drive up to the Rose Bowl’s front door, underneath the legendary glowing sign, toward the picturesque purple mountains, there stands the most impactful symbol of the school that plays there.

It is a statue of Jackie Robinson in a UCLA football uniform.

He is cradling the ball in his left hand and warding off impending tacklers with his right, a striking bronze symbol of a university’s resilience and strength. The most formidable figure in American sports history is standing where he grew up, where his team lives and where he forever will embody the epitome of the gutty Bruin.

Nobody represents the mission of UCLA more than Jackie Robinson.

UCLA fans cheer during the game against Penn State at the Rose Bowl on Oct. 4.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

Nothing is more disgusting than the thought of UCLA leaving him in the dust.

The Bruins are trying to flee the Rose Bowl, did you hear? They’re trying to break a long-term lease and leave Pasadena on the next thing smokin’. Oh yeah, they’re all but gone, it’s all there in lawsuits and court filings and mounds of legal stuff that mask the real message.

UCLA values a quick buck over enduring integrity, fast cash over deep tradition and dollars over die-hards.

The Bruins want to leave the most storied stadium in America, a place where they have played for 43 years, a living monument to Bruins icons, a tailgating paradise with a postcard backdrop … for the shiny toy that is SoFi Stadium, an amazing professional football palace that has no business being the permanent home of a college football team.

This is no knock on SoFi. It’s Super Bowl cool. But it’s an NFL stadium with NFL vibes. It doesn’t work for a struggling university program that would be a third tenant viewed as a last resort.

The Bruins don’t want to move there for tradition. When it comes to college football, SoFi has none. UCLA played there once in a bowl game that drew what appeared to be a handful of fans, the quaint gathering dwarfed by the space-age surroundings.

They don’t want to go there for the increased convenience. There is none. You can’t sell me that 14 fewer miles going south on the 405 on a Saturday afternoon would be noticeably quicker than a longer trek going east on the 134. Especially if there also are events happening at the SoFi-adjacent Forum and Intuit Dome.

They don’t want to go for the game-day experience. There is none. They would be sacrificing lush Brookside tailgating for scarce parking lot tailgating, robbing UCLA fans of their one guaranteed victory every game.

Yes, SoFi has much better seats and bathrooms and amenities but, no, the Bruins want to go for one reason only, and we’ve known what that is from the moment they admitted their athletic department was in financial ruin.

UCLA offensive coordinator Jerry Neuheisel walks back to the sidelines after a timeout during a game against Nebraska at the Rose Bowl on Nov. 8.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

This is all about the money. UCLA long ago agreed to a lousy deal with the Rose Bowl from the outset — the school apparently sign leases like it hires football coaches — and thus the Bruins don’t receive any cut of suite or sponsorship deals, and get just a fraction of merchandise and parking. Some estimate they can make a few multiples of their current revenue by moving to SoFi, and that’s certainly a legitimate motivation, but it’s also the easy way out.

You know how else they could make more money? Win more football games! Did anybody think of that?

Since Terry Donahue retired in 1995, the UCLA football program frequently has dumped a steaming pile of garbage on Pasadena’s prettiest doorstep, and the poor decisions by the athletic department finally are catching up to it.

They’ve had losing records in seven of the last 10 years. They’ve gone through five coaches and endured countless disappointments. Not surprisingly, increasingly fewer fans want to devote their Saturdays to cheering for a team that too often finds itself plopping into a Brookside bunker.

The Bruins’ five worst attendance figures have come in the last five seasons not interrupted by COVID-19. They’ve ranked around the bottom of Big Ten attendance, and the hole just keeps getting deeper.

They’re averaging 37,099 this season entering the Saturday night’s home finale against Washington, a pace which would set the record for the lowest UCLA season attendance at the Rose Bowl.

And all this is the Rose Bowl’s fault? Not since Roy “Wrong Way” Riegels has someone in the Arroyo Seco been so misguided.

The City of Pasadena and the Rose Bowl Operating Co. have lived up to their part of the lease, which still has 19 years remaining on it. Pasadena officials say taxpayers have invested more than $150 million in stadium renovations and they’re ready to write a check on an additional $130 million for improvements.

It shows. The Terry Donahue Pavilion is magnificent. The grounds are pristine. There are plans for a cool field club beyond the south end zone.

The Rose Bowl folks have done everything they agreed to do. That UCLA still is trying to walk out the front door smacks of an entitled, oafish spouse who demands their significant other improve themselves, then leaves anyway.

I’ve been covering UCLA games at the Rose Bowl for nearly 40 years, and I can confirm there’s no better place to watch college football in this country. It’s the Augusta National of football stadiums, a place where they should hold the national championship every year, with its breathtaking skyline and deep green surroundings and that crisp fall breeze that sneaks through the Arroyo Seco like an old friend reminding you of home.

UCLA tailback Derrick Williams celebrates with a cheerleader’s megaphone after defeating the USC 13-9 at the Rose Bowl on Dec. 2, 2006.

(Stephen Dunn / Getty Images)

No, it’s not on UCLA’s campus, but there’s no more room, that ship has sailed. And, no, UCLA doesn’t make an appropriate amount of money in the deal, but the school signed the lease, and those lost dollars can appear in other ways.

By playing at the Rose Bowl, the Bruins are paid in majestic beauty, timeless tradition and a sense of family that their alumni and fans can’t get anywhere else.

I was on the sidelines in the final seconds on that first Saturday in December 2006 for quite possibly UCLA’s greatest Rose Bowl moment. You remember. How could you forget?

The John David Booty drive, the Eric McNeal interception, the stunning 13-9 UCLA victory that denied USC a spot in the national championship game while giving the Bruins their only win over the Trojans in a 13-year span.

What stays with me from that afternoon is the deafening noise that seemed to fill every corner of Pasadena before morphing into arguably the loudest Eight Clap in Bruins history.

“U-C-L-A! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The Rose Bowl was magical that day. Shame on UCLA for not believing it still can be.