An excerpt from Border Canto Trilogy:  Book I

     “Every year, on December 31st, banished El Pasoans from around the nation rejoice as they tune in to watch the Sun Bowl. Although the football game is usually quite good, we watch to see our beloved Border celebrated. 
     The Sun Bowl, I have been told, is the second oldest of bowl games, the only one older being the Rose Bowl. Other bowls make the same claim, particularly another one played in Texas. Perhaps all bowl committees are telling the truth. It gives a community great pride to claim its bowl is the second oldest, and I do not mind other communities sharing in this pride. We El Pasoans don’t need to be selfish about such things.
     Sun Bowl Stadium is nestled near the Rio Grande side of the mountain among several peaks, and the stadium itself is a testament to the beautiful majesty of the desert. Perhaps the actual structure is undistinguished, but the natural setting makes it, in the eyes of a desert rat like me, anyway, the most beautiful venue in all of sports.
     We banished El Pasoans often do not pay attention to the game, watching the edge of the screen, looking at the city peaking up from behind the stadium. My wife and I love to engage in this ritual, much to the chagrin of our children, who would rather be watching Disney videos.
     "Look," she can say. "You can see Juárez."
     Or I will say, "Look! It’s the house my parents used to live in."
     Another time, she was watching and kind of shrieked. "Look! It’s Jayme! Remember Jayme?"
     We banished border dwellers resent the intrusions the announcers make into the halftime show, because we hope to see our city’s culture celebrated, or at least our high school’s band get to march. But the announcers tend to be very gracious about the city, and always stress how nicely they’ve been treated, how friendly the community is, and how they hope to be invited back next year. Of course all announcers at all bowl games say this, but I flatter myself that the announcers at the Sun Bowl really mean it and all others are only being polite.
     The first time I went was one of the few times game was scheduled for Christmas Day, I guess to accommodate the network television schedules. The halftime entertainment was Mrs. José Feliciano. I was disappointed José himself had not come, but when she launched into ‘Feliz Navidad,’ the entire stands thundered with wild joyful cries of, "Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad, prospero año y felizidad." It was very exciting to be a part of and to sing along with, and Mrs. Feliciano received a hero’s welcome for her efforts.
     As with anything, the need for money changed the Sun Bowl, and it had to go looking for corporate sponsorship in order to pay the appearance fees college football programs demand to play in bowl games. One company stepped in and some El Pasoans cheered and bought the company’s insurance out of gratitude, but the company became too bold and insisted on changing the name of the bowl itself and it became the John Hancock Bowl, a humiliation which was even worse than the people of Northern Louisiana had to endure when their bowl game changed to the Poulan Weedeater Independence Bowl. We were happy when the insurance company dropped its sponsorship of our bowl, and the bank which stepped in and took over sponsorship gave itself more positive public relations than it could have imagined by restoring the good old name, and now it is simply the Sun Bowl again"