At the dedication game of Michigan's new 84,401-seat stadium in 1927, the Wolverines sent new rival Ohio State home with a 21-0 thumping. In that informal era, it was perfectly natural for athletic director Fielding Yost to walk back to campus with the game's star, Bennie Oosterbaan.

"Mr. Yost was feeling pretty good," Oosterbaan said. "We'd won, and the stadium was completely filled. He turned to me and said, 'Bennie, do you know what the best thing about that new stadium is? Eighty-five thousand people paid five dollars apiece for their seats - and Bennie, they had to leave the seats there!'"

Like most Ann Arborites, I've been following the debate over the proposed skyboxes very closely. While I'm impressed by the passion the opponents have for Michigan tradition, I can't help but conclude they're pining for a past that never was. If the best cure for nostalgia is a dose of historical facts, it's time for a healthy shot.

While no one can be certain what Yost would think of the skyboxes, the record suggests he would approve - for the very reasons he pushed to build the Big House in the first place. As Michigan's athletic director from 1921 to 1941, Yost worked tirelessly to elevate the profile of Michigan athletics - and, along with it, his own. When someone asked famed sportswriter Ring Lardner if he ever talked to Yost, Lardner replied, "No, my mother taught me never to interrupt."

Given Yost's massive ego, it's no surprise he was obsessed with massive stadiums. It galled him that Ohio State, Illinois and other rivals built theirs before Michigan got around to it. After years of lobbying, Yost finally overcame the objections of the faculty, the students, The Michigan Daily and the Board of Regents - which twice vetoed the plan before passing it - to build his Big House.

Michigan Stadium originally boasted a permanent capacity of 72,000, including hundreds of pricier box seats, plus 12,401 temporary bleachers - all this to serve a city of just 35,000 people. It's hard to argue Yost was anything but a dyed-in-the-wool capitalist who fully intended to maximize the profitability of his football team.

Yost also installed footings for a balcony of some 70,000 seats - which strikes me as a pretty clear invitation to future generations that Michigan Stadium was not to be regarded as a sacred mausoleum, but an organic building designed to meet the changing needs of the Athletic Department and Michigan's fans. As proof, Michigan Stadium has undergone 21 major renovations, expansions and improvements, starting in the building's second year, when Yost added 13,753 permanent seats.

The Big House helped pay for Yost Field House, the baseball stadium, and - for all students - the golf course, the Intramural Sports Building and Waterman Gymnasium, arguably the best women's facility of its time.

Fielding Yost invented the linebacker, the no-huddle offense and the quick kick. But his most important innovation, by far, was the financially self-sufficient athletic department. It is that tradition, more than any other, which the University should endeavor to protect today.

By 2010, the only Big Ten schools without skyboxes will be Indiana and Northwestern - hardly Michigan's peers. Michigan's proposed skyboxes will require not a dime from the University's general fund nor its students, which is how most schools pay for sports. The skyboxes will help fund 25 varsity teams - 13 of them women's, and all but three of which lose money every year.

The skyboxes will also keep ticket prices down for the average fan. In the early '70s, my parents' tickets cost $120 per season. Those exact same seats now cost $1,266, an increase of more than 1,000 percent. The skyboxes will serve as a progressive tax on the wealthiest Michigan boosters, effectively subsidizing both non-revenue sports and tickets for the average fan - the very tradition Yost established in 1927.

The Athletic Department needs more money to fund its teams, and if I have to choose between extracting more from starving students or corporate big shots, I'll take the rich guys, every time.

And the best part is, when the game is over, they'll have to leave the skyboxes there.

John Bacon is the author of "A Legacy of Champions," among other books, and teaches a course on the history of college athletics at the University.