Ah, it’s that time of year. The traditional sounds from the radio both soothe and incite our passions, anticipation for the Big Day mounts… Although we all are happy and excited about the upcoming event, we are also a bit pissy, complaining that the event isn’t exactly like we want it to be. (For example, we didn’t want to see Aunt Bertha and her family, her kids terrorize the dog and double-dip their nachos. Why were they invited, anyway?) And we feel the same way every year.
I am, of course, talking about the BCS national championship game.
The whining seems to start earlier every year, to the extent that I now have only one criterion by which I judge a college football journalist. It’s called the Moaning Index: count every sentence devoted to criticism of the BCS,[1] and divide by the sentences devoted to analysis of games, players, conferences, or even coaches. Several years ago I cancelled my subscription to the Sporting News, in large part because their college football writer (Matt Hayes, I believe) had a Moaning Index well over 1.5.
I’m not going to defend the BCS as a perfect system for determining a national champion. Nor am I going to make you read my own proposal which would create a perfect system.[2] I merely ask for an end to whining in the press. The fact is, the BCS is far, far better than the “system” that came before it. Does anyone want to go back to the dark days in which, because of conference alliances and perceptions about which teams can bring lots of fans with disposable income, LSU would face Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl, while West Virginia would play TCU in the Poulon Weed Eater Bowl?[3] In his December 4 column, Tuesday Morning Quarterback detailed the arguments in favor of the BCS in far more detail and more eloquently than I ever could.
Yet, I know that my plea to end the whining is doomed. Sports yaks make their living off of controversy, so much so that it is their job to create controversy, even where none does or should exist. Let’s pretend, for the moment, that the NCAA did create a four-team playoff so as to settle the national title “on the field,” as so many yaks have demanded. Consider the likely media reaction:
Preseason news cycle: “They didn’t structure it right. There should be more teams invited. What if my alma mater ends up not being included?”
In-season news cycle: “If the season ended today, the playoff would exclude these worthy teams, including my alma mater.”
End-of-season news cycle: “Here’s the list of teams whose fans and coaches are complaining because they didn’t get into the playoff. The NCAA has got to expand its playoff format to be more inclusive, otherwise their championship is simply not fair.”
Oh, reader, you don’t think so? Just take a look at the other annual NCAA moan-fest, focused on the men’s basketball tournament. That tournament invites 64 teams, some of whom couldn’t even manage a winning record in their conference. Yet, every year, we hear the same venomous complaints from sports journalists, about how the selection process didn’t get it right, and how the tournament should be expanded. That’s right, I read at least 10 articles last year from major, ostensibly reputable sports news organizations calling vehemently for more “bubble” teams to be invited to the men’s basketball tournament. Now that’s what I call March Madness. I mean, why play the regular season at all? Let’s just invite everyone to a big ol’ tournament that will last all year, why don’t we. And while we’re at it, let’s make it double- or triple-elimination, just to be more “fair.”
[Slap]
Woah, sorry. Thanks, I needed that. I get a bit riled up when I contemplate the collective brainpower put into sports journalism in America.
I will close on a calmer note by suggesting that attempting to placate sports journalists and the sporting public is no more likely to be successful than the UN bargaining with North Korea.[4] Look at the evolution of both the college basketball and college football postseasons. With each incremental “improvement” designed to answer critics, ever more complaints from the sports yak world emerged. There’s no ending to this slippery slope. So why should college presidents bother to change a bowl system that provides substantial television interest and spectator support? The answer: they shouldn’t, no matter what the ignorant sports press might say.
[1] This category also includes complaints about the NCAA’s administration, use of replay, eligibility requirements, and other such staples
[2] In case you haven’t noticed, every sports journalist knows precisely how to fix college football. And their ideas are all completely different. Oh, if only the journalists were in charge, the world would be a better place.
[3] This was a real bowl. It was played on artificial turf.
[4] “We’ll give you money, subsidies, and concessions if you’ll end your nuclear program.” “Okay!” Then two years later, “We must have money, subsidies, and concessions if you want us to end our nuclear program,” with the previous bargain forgotten.
1 comment:
I will concede that in March there is always arguing about the seeding and the #66 team in the nation (who were criminally left out of the bracket by the selection committee in favor of some less-deserving team).
There is not, however, ever any argument about who the actual champion is. NC State and Villanova were legitimate college champions, and Houston and Georgetown cannot argue otherwise; the matter was settled on the court.
Auburn, however, can (and will) argue endlessly that it was cheated out of a shot at a college football title, and the BCS, alas, doesn't offer any way to end THAT argument.
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