DALLAS -- Dave and Hayley Sales of Little Rock are in North Texas for a wedding. Dave's an Oregon fan (Haley's a Razorback), and since they couldn't make Monday night's title game ("too expensive"), they paid $17 apiece plus $15 parking to sit in bleachers overlooking the field at the College Football Playoff National Championship Media Day.

"It was absolutely worth it, just to get the atmosphere. You can see the SportsCenter set right there."

The $17 admission allows for fans to play pool, buy t-shirts, attempt a field goal, watch a college basketball game on a projection screen, and purchase Chick-fil-A at inflated prices in an empty convention center.

At one point, a P.A. announcer informs the crowd that "ESPN's Rece Davis is now available for autographs." This opportunity is presumably one for paid attendees and not the assembled media, although multiple TV reporters in the Ohio State corps practice doing "The Whip" with various Buckeyes staffers in selfie videos.

For $17, patrons also receive an earpiece with five radio channels, each tuned to live interviews with Oregon and Ohio State coaches and players. For 60 minutes, media members will question Marcus Mariota, Cardale Jones, and Joey Bosa with the goal of somehow gleaning new information about a football game.

The players' responsibility is to defy the natural instinct of a young athlete -- to speak enthusiastically about the sport they love -- and give up absolutely no new information, and in most cases, nothing of any interest. For 60 minutes. To accomplish this, major programs like OSU and Oregon employ effective teams of SIDs.

For $17, your can hear your favorite Duck or Buckeye manage a delicate non-response to complex topics facing modern college athletics. They will also answer the following questions:

To OSU QB Cardale Jones: "How have you been able to take advantage of this opportunity to play quarterback?" (Jones did say some fun stuff.)

To Oregon QB Marcus Mariota: "Are you proud to be from Hawaii?"

To Oregon LB Tony Washington: "What's the worst thing about playing in this game?"

To OSU head coach Urban Meyer: "What does Oregon do well?"

To Oregon head coach Mark Helfrich: "Have you watched the Sugar Bowl?"

Before each team arrives, the video boards play hype videos, and the P.A. announces their arrival.

To the strains of The Black Keys' "I Got Mine": "PLEASE WELCOME ... THE OHIO STATE BUCKEYES!"

Rather than run out of a tunnel with pads and helmets to play a sporting event, players shuffle in, the majority glued to their phones. There are two child reporters, both escorted by adults. Neither one uses the phrase "talk about."

Those student-athletes not on individual podiums are asked to sit at round banquet tables with name placards. They avoid eye contact by Snapchatting and texting. A television show dedicated to "wacky" and "real" access to college football teams asks players to play practical jokes on their teammates at the podium, or compete in rock, paper, scissors.

"I don't want to do that, bruh. I just wanna go sleep," one OSU player mumbles to his teammate.

"Tell 'em you don't know how to play," another says.

"Rock, paper, scissors? I don't think they'd believe me."