Congratulations, Urban Meyer. You've cheated the entire nation.
On Sunday night, it was announced that the Florida Gators were headed to Glendale, Ariz., to compete in the BCS Championship Game on Jan. 8.
That's right, Florida. Not USC, who ended its November by blowing out three straight ranked teams. Not Michigan, a Big Ten powerhouse whose only loss was a narrow defeat at the hands of No. 1 Ohio State. Apparently, Florida is the second-best team in all the land.
So says the BCS, anyway. The general consensus was that the Wolverines, who were an unblemished 11-0 heading into Columbus two weeks ago, were the better team. But when all the polls came back Sunday showing the Gators in second and Michigan at No. 3, that was the end of that.
You'd think that after a miracle like what went down this weekend, the Gators would be grateful. After all, what were the odds of the Trojans losing to UCLA on the final weekend? All it took was one mediocre performance from John David Booty, and the Trojans' chances of a BCS title shrunk faster than George Costanza in a swimming pool. Everyone in Gainesville should be thanking their lucky stars.
But not Meyer. The Gators' coach blasted the BCS, biting the very hand that fed him, in his acceptance of the title game bid Sunday night, calling the system "flawed." A week earlier, after the Gators barely snuck by a mediocre Florida State team on a fourth-quarter Chris Leak touchdown pass, Meyer suggested doing away with the system altogether.
So, for those of you playing along at home, let's recap the reasons that we all should hate Urban Meyer. He's incredibly lucky? Check. He's incredibly ungrateful? Check. And ... here's a third one. He's incredibly wrong.
Not about the BCS being flawed. Of course not. The BCS obviously has its problems - I don't think there's any disputing that. But maybe it's time for us all to realize the sad truth: the BCS is the lesser of two evils.
Say what you want about the constant pleas for a playoff system that have been circulating over the past couple years. You may even think that an eight- or 16-team championship bracket is a brilliant idea. But I for sure don't.
In an ideal world, there would be a playoff system, but the fact of the matter is that it just isn't plausible. The Div. I regular season ends on Dec. 2 for a reason - two of them, actually.
One is that the fact that these student-athletes are just that: students. As hard as it may be to believe, Troy Smith probably has a presentation to give next week in his communications class. John David Booty may very well be researching for his sociology paper this very minute. These guys are students just like you and me, and for them, December means finals, not football.
The other problem is with asking these guys to give up their winter breaks for the sake of their football teams. When an NBA or NFL player has to spend his Christmas playing a nationally-televised game, that's one thing: They're professionals, and they have the fat bank accounts to prove it. But NCAA athletes are amateurs, and as the commercial says, 99 percent of them are going pro in something other than sports.
Of course, that statistic doesn't actually apply to some major-conference football players. But still, I'd like to see you tell Mike Hart that you don't want him spending Christmas with his family because you'd rather see him playing a playoff game against Notre Dame. That doesn't sound fun, does it?
In a way, this column is about a larger problem in sports today. Far too often, we fail to realize that athletes are human beings. And if you ask me, this is especially a problem in college sports, because these men that we've come to worship every Saturday are, in reality, barely men at all. They're 21- and 22-year-old kids, just like a lot of us.
Some people say that we can give Div. I football a playoff without taking the December recess away. These people point to Div. II and III football schedules, arguing that if the other divisions can have a postseason tournament, so can the Div. I schools.
Sadly, these people are mistaken. The other divisions have to shorten their schedules to fit in a playoff - most lower-division schools only schedule nine or 10 games a year because come mid-November, it's playoff time.
Imagine what would happen if we did that in Div. I. We'd essentially be draining college football of its non-conference games. USC, for example, played Arkansas, Nebraska and Notre Dame outside of the Pac-10 this season. Exciting games like these are what make each season unique; without them, we'd just be stuck in an annual grind, watching everyone play the same handful of teams each season.
Take it from me - this fall, I spent my Saturdays covering Tufts football, so I've seen it firsthand. Every year, Tufts plays eight NESCAC teams, and then after eight weeks, the Jumbos sit at home and watch as the rest of the season plays out without them (the NESCAC does not participate in NCAA football's playoffs). Schools in conferences like the NESCAC have to suffer because powerhouses like Mount Union and Wisconsin - La Crosse want more playoff games.
What would happen if Div. I was like this? Well, nothing would really be improved. We would still hear complaints from snubbed teams every year, only instead of hearing Michigan complain about being No. 3, it'd be No. 9 Auburn or No. 17 Tennessee whining about not making the eight- or 16-team Big Dance.
The awful truth is that, no matter what, teams are going to get snubbed. It's something that we as sports fans just have to accept.
And sometimes, that acceptance isn't really all that difficult - especially for a team like the Wolverines. Because instead of heading to a playoff this winter, Michigan has a bowl game to prepare for. And when that bowl game is none other than this January's Rose Bowl, a rematch of the Wolverines' 2004 showdown with USC, one thing becomes clear.
Life could be worse.
Evans Clinchy is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major.
