Idahoans, what happened last week in Grand Forks, N.D., was just not right.

The icon of this great state, the potato, was paraded around that city's streets and treated as if it belonged to North Dakota. Like it was theirs to julienne, to bake, to flapjack, and theirs to turn into a moist, fluffy profit.

Somehow, some way, the North Dakota football team hosts an annual Potato Bowl game, preceded by a parade, golf tournament, what is reputedly the world's largest French fry feed and something called the Hugo's Potato Bowl Pete Hidden Medallion Contest to celebrate the event's mascot.

Idaho, Boise State and Idaho host no such week-long festivities. This is a travesty, a crime against the state that made the potato the glorious vegetable it is today.

This must change.

Because if anyone should have a Potato Bowl, it's Idaho.

If we were talking flaxseed, canola or wheat - crops grown almost exclusively in North Dakota - I'd be willing to give those Days to the Peace Garden state. Especially flaxseed.

But not potatoes.

The 349,000 acres of potatoes planted in Idaho in 2007 represent more than one-quarter of the United States' total acreage, according to a National Agricultural Statistics Service report. North Dakotans, steadfast, hearty and honorable as they are, tilled and tended just 91,000 acres.

The mascot for Shelley High School, 45 miles north of Pocatello, is the Russets. Not a single North Dakota high school has the passion for potatoes to use any of its varieties for a mascot.

I mean goodness, the Idaho license plate says "Famous Potatoes." Need more be said?

Still, after reading about the Potato Bowl festivities - and their connection to Pocatello - they do sound pretty darn fun.

In 1965, coaches at North Dakota and Idaho State thought it was a grand idea to play two games of football and place the pride of potato growers right at the 50-yard line. Figuratively, of course.

They played a game in Pocatello in 1965 and in Grand Forks in 1966, dubbing the later contest the Potato Bowl. The contests didn't go well for the Bengals; they lost by a combined score of 68-0.

Not surprisingly, the two teams haven't played since - until tonight's game at Holt Arena and next year's contest back in Grand Forks, which will mark the 44th anniversary of the first Potato Bowl.

But in what seems a very boastful move, the good citizens of Grand Forks turned the Potato Bowl into an annual event, a celebration of red potatoes, of which North Dakota is the world's most prolific producer.

The UND football team has played a game by that name every year since, including last week's 45-7 victory over Wisconsin-La Crosse.

The festivities have since ballooned to include a week of potato partying, culminating in a football game.

"It's huge," said Diane Peycke, a Potato Bowl Committee member, by phone. "It's a really great community event. One of the best fireworks shows in town."

After calling the Idaho Potato Commission and the Potato Museum in Blackfoot, I could find only one annual celebration of the terrific tuber: Spud Days, which conveniently will be held this Saturday in Shelley.

I say that's a good starting point.

There, Idahoans, take a stand and show those interlopers that we love our crop. Remind them that, had we been in the export business in the 1840s, Idaho's crop alone could have saved Ireland from a most unpleasant famine, and that Spud Days' "Tator Trot" trumps the Potato Bowl's "Tater Trot" in both intensity and spelling.

The potato is Idaho's icon, and it deserves a week of glorious celebration: baked potato bars, potato pancake breakfasts, golf tournaments, an appearance by mascot Spuddy Buddy and a parade that ends at the gates of Holt Arena.

Because if any state should tout its tators, it's Idaho.

Dan Thompson's commentary appears Thursdays. With comments or story ideas, call him at 239-3122 or e-mail dthompson@journalnet.com.

BREAKOUT

For more on the Shelley Spud Days, go to www.ci.shelley.id.us