There is a mostly factual story about a guy whose company purchased first-class plane tickets for his business trips.

On one flight, a friend sitting in the exit row of economy class invited the guy to the neighboring empty seat. The friend knew people, and for the rest of the flight, there was wine, ukulele music and singing. Later, the guy told his boss that to save money, he would give up first-class travel; overrated, ya know. The next trip, there was no friend with connections, no wine, certainly no ukulele or singing. The guy then told the boss he reconsidered. In rejecting the request, the boss said: Who gives up first class?

The moral of the story should be remembered every time an angry fan gets his mawashi in a bunch whenever the University of Hawaii football team loses a game it should have won or calls a play that was not like the one they ran back in his fuzzy memory. I’ve worked at the dailies for 40 years, covering canoe regattas to boxing to UH sports. It’s the same mad-as-heck themes. Lose a game? Clean house, the grouch barks. Empty seats? Drop down a level or just drop the sport, the grouch and his buds gripe in CAPS on social media.

History — particularly Hawaii’s history — tells us neither down-sizing nor elimination is a feasible solution.

Gov. John Burns spent years arguing, lobbying and back-room dealing to build Aloha Stadium, which would provide a gateway to a Division I conference membership for UH. Dick Tomey, Bob Wagner and June Jones worked for under-market paychecks to accentuate Burns’ dream of big-time football — relatively — in Hawaii. Five years ago, when asked about UH’s value to the Mountain West, commissioner Craig Thompson answered the question with a question: Didn’t Hawaii go to the Sugar Bowl eight years earlier?

Dropping down a level to, say, FCS or Division II would not save money or increase competition. Same expenses, less-appealing attractions. It would be like Cannes showing Larry the Cable Guy movies. Instead of paying travel subsidies to San Diego State or Boise State, UH would have to foot the charter-flight bills for San Diego and Idaho State. Football is the financial engine that drives the athletic department. It’s the negotiating point for the TV contract and sponsorships. Less money for the locomotive, less for the caboose.

And if UH were to drop football, as some insist in emails to moi, the revenue would not be transferable to other programs or agencies. Think the premium-seat revenue will now go to Waianae High’s science department? It will just go away. If we stopped the rail right now, funds won’t be redistributed back to taxpayers and the drive time from downtown to the Mililani-Wahiawa split still will be 29 minutes in rush hour. If we stop UH football now, TV and radio deals, corporate sponsorships and probably six UH sports will go away. too.

And as we’ve learned here, once something is gone, it’s gone for good. Arakawa’s, McDonald’s Egg White Delight, Super Ferry, Lanikai’s street parking, and giving lei at the airport gate to mainland-bound relatives are not coming back.

So next time you’re mad about UH football, take deep breaths, go for a walk, and then delete the email or post calling for the program’s expiration. Football is entertaining and uniting for a state that needs entertainment and unity. And, after all, who gives up Division I football?