In my Book of Cynical Judgments, cliche or overly sappy marriage proposals are not okay. Don't make a photo album with the proposal in the last photo slot, don't sneak the ring into dessert or a flower, and don't dare propose on Valentine's Day. Through an untraceable line of conversation tangents tonight, I concocted the only overdone marriage proposal to which I would say yes.

My extravagant proposal would be celebrity-filled and centerfield on a holiday. I will be engrossed in my first extensive behind-the-scenes look at all Alabama athletic facilities. I'll see Coach Saban's and Mal Moore's offices. I'll get to go inside the black fence at the practice field. Finally I'll tour Bryant Denney Stadium about the time the Requiem for a Dream video fires up on the jumbotron. Whoever's giving me this tour is sharing obscure stories from throughout Alabama football's mythic history. I'm enraptured. I have butterflies in my stomach. I can't wait to settle into my box seat on the 50 yard line, and I'm annoyed that we won't be in our seats in time for Bear Bryant's mumbled pregame video. Presentations are underway with the gameball on the script A midfield. Confused and oblivious I'm escorted to center field where Nick Saban himself awaits with a signed football and tells me and all 90,000+ in the stadium that so and so has something to ask me. This is when unknown male companion drops to one knee and proposes. I say yes, the crowd gives a rousing Roooooooll Tide! Roll!, and we're nearly mowed over by the team as they run onto the field. Finally we go to our seats and begin to imbibe with gusto and enjoy an Iron Bowl shutout. We party into the night celebrating the Tide and our engagement on the deliriously overjoyed streets of Tuscaloosa.