Pitt should reconsider this football “tradition.”Penn State announced this week it will stop playing “Sweet Caroline” at its football games. Immediately, this was connected to the Jerry Sandusky scandal and the song’s suggestive lyric, “touching me, touching you.” Penn State has officially denied these accusations, calling the song’s removal the consequence of a standard yearly “updating” of the game day play list.

There are things to be said about that. But something else must be said, too.

Pitt should follow Penn State’s lead and drop the Sweet Caroline tradition at Heinz Field.

Before you get outraged, consider the first paragraph of this editorial: Penn State was also using the song until this year. Davidson College, the New York Mets, the Cleveland Cavaliers, the Johnstown Chiefs (minor league hockey) and, most famously, the Boston Red Sox are among scores of other teams that consider the song their tradition.

Pitt’s Sweet Caroline “tradition” is younger than many other teams’, starting less than four years ago when Pitt marketing officials, in an effort to improve the student experience, arbitrarily picked the song to be belted out between the third and fourth quarters of games at Heinz Field.

This is not a tradition. It is a marketing device.

At first, it was admittedly a good way to get students excited for lackluster games. When first introduced at an early season game against Buffalo, the team pulled off a stunning come-from-behind victory.

But since then, the team’s fortunes have turned from nationally ranked status to BBVA Compass Bowl regulars. Sweet Caroline has only led to a far more robust Pitt tradition: the fourth quarter student exodus.

This embarrassing show of disloyalty reveals the dirty secret about the song: it is something to do for fun, not something to do for Pitt. Today, it’s new vinyl siding surrounding a home that’s been falling to pieces. And the rows of empty seats by the tenth minute of the final quarter only make that home look worse.

The tradition, as well as all the other ceremonial activities from recent years — why do we dance to “Apache (Jump on It)” before kickoff, again? — reinforces something we all know: This is not the same organization that spawned Dan Marino, Tony Dorsett and nine championship seasons. The colors, teams and stadium are different. Very little of today resembles past glory years. Thus, modern traditions do nothing to connect us to a meaningful narrative; they are just fun.

So until the Panthers become true national contenders — not phantom contenders, as has been the case recently — Pitt needs to reach further back for legitimacy. Old traditions, like the Cathedral of Learning victory lights, are a start. Other traditions should be considered as well.

But in the short term, Pitt football needs to stop trying to turn games into a Disney World attraction. Stop the meaningless marketing ploys that are not only ineffective, but patronize older fans in an effort to create superficial student interest.