A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting around with a pair of UNC fans watching the Tar Heels take on Duke. Unsurprisingly, the conversation shifted to Carolina's last title game in 2008−09.
One of the two fans commented that what made that title game great was that it matched up the best two teams in the country, something he wished could be guaranteed every season. When I asked (somewhat sarcastically) if that meant he liked the BCS, I got a resounding "no." But the idea of "what makes the perfect playoff system?" stuck with me.
First, we need to look at what doesn't work, which brings us right back to the BCS. The BCS is a bit like "The Jersey Shore": It exists to be a money grab, it serves no useful purpose, and its continued existence leaves us questioning our culture's intelligence. I would wager that not even the people who make billions off the system like it.
Next up is the NBA, which grants 16 of its 30 teams entry into the playoffs (making it an easier in than Erin Barry). This leads to some ridiculous scenarios. Does 39−43 sound like a team deserving of playing for a title? Because the Pistons made the playoffs with that record in 2008−09. It's bad enough that we tell our T−ball−playing younger siblings that every game is a tie and that nobody loses; we don't need to baby our professional athletes, too.
(Side note: How does anyone watch the NBA regular season? If I wanted to watch a bunch of people half−ass it for the duration of their work day before putting in a little effort at the end to make their quota, I could just visit any office building in America.)
The NHL has the same problems as the NBA. Thanks to a playoff system that can have a team play up to 28 postseason games, Game 7 of the 2006 Stanley Cup Finals in Raleigh, N.C., was played while temperatures outside reached a high of 88 degrees. Hockey is not meant for summer; the only ice that sports fans should be associating themselves with at those temperatures is a tasty snow cone.
Which brings us to the MLB, which has the most appealing structure. Baseball allows only eight of its 30 teams in, forcing every team to actually try in the regular season., The playoffs start with a round that is only best−of−five instead of best−of−seven.
So to begin our modifications, we will shrink the basketball and hockey brackets to the size of baseball. We'll even let them keep their best−of−seven first rounds to appease their love for things unnecessarily lengthy.
That leaves the NFL on the agenda. At 12 teams, the league's playoff pool is small enough, but the one−and−done nature of its tournament structure leaves much to be desired. In fact, only two No. 1 seeds have won the Super Bowl in the past 10 years, compared to four in each of the other three big four sports.
What's the solution? I think football should take a page out of the book of its name−sharing brethren, European "football." While American football cannot be played frequently enough to have series in the playoffs, the aggregate system, in which a game is played at each stadium and the higher cumulative score moves on, could be implemented.
Not only would this add strategy to the game (run out the clock while up 15 points at home, or try to add to your lead?), but it would eliminate most of the need for the NFL's horrific overtime system, as in the event of an aggregate tie, whoever scored more on the road goes on.
Perhaps this is all a pipe dream, but maybe some day these are changes that could happen.
Wait … who am I kidding … we can't even get rid of the BCS …
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