A bowl not of meaning

Friday, January 8, 2010

OK, friends, we’ve just come out of a pretty nasty year.

So instead of starting the new year with, as Phil Ochs might have said, “Thundering declarations” about such things as gay marriage (we approve) or the horrors of the property tax (not a good thing), let’s talk about something of Great Import to more than a few folks, although it’s possible you’re not one of them: the college football “championship.”

As you probably know – we’re assuming you care – the national champion will be decided this week when the top two teams (a point that could be argued) in the nation meet Friday on what fossils still call The Gridiron.

Which left a lot of other teams playing in bowl games that were, to say the least, meaningless. The Rose Bowl, for instance. Who cared? It meant nothing in the larger scheme of things.

But once upon a time, in the old days (let’s say 15 years ago), when there was no formularized college football championship, several New Year’s bowl games were, or could have been, important.

Here is how (we take you now to those thrilling days of yesteryear: The Lone Curmudgeon rides again).

Let us say, for the sake of this brilliant argument, that on New Year’s Day in, oh, 1980 (and don’t Google this for accuracy because who can remember and it doesn’t matter anyway):

1. In the Orange Bowl, No. 1 (as voted in polls) Florida plays No. 10 Notre Dame.

2. In the Cotton Bowl, No. 2 Texas plays No. 7 Oklahoma.

3. In the Sugar Bowl, No. 3 LSU plays No. 8 Georgia.

4. In the Rose Bowl (which we all must always call “The Granddaddy of Them All,” blah, blah, blah) No. 4 Michigan plays No. 6 Southern California.

OK, now it gets tricky, but fascinating, because there are all kinds of possible scenarios here that make every one of those bowls important.

If Florida wins, that’s it, Florida is the national champ.

But suppose Notre Dame wins? Then what?

Well, if Texas wins, they leap over Florida and they’re champs.

But suppose Notre Dame and Oklahoma win? Well, if LSU beats Georgia, they could leap over Florida and Texas and be national champs.

But suppose Notre Dame, Oklahoma and Georgia win?

Well, then it comes down to (come on, say it with us): The Granddaddy of Them All. Michigan and Southern Cal, going into the games, are ranked higher than all of the winners of the earlier bowl games. So, theoretically, the winner of that game would be national champ. Meaning on New Year’s Day in the not so distant past, the No. 6 team in the nation still had a shot at being the national champion.Wow. That sure made those games worth watching. So, it’s fair to wonder, why’d they change the darn system and make, for instance, that old Granddaddy of Them All, totally meaningless?

For instance, on Jan. 1 of this year, No. 3 Cincinnati played No. 5 Florida and who cared? The players, their parents and coaches and, maybe, their fans. But it had nothing to do with the national championship because that won’t be decided until Jan. 8 when Alabama meets Texas. So, why bother to watch No. 3 play No. 5? All it meant was that, if Florida won, they’d be No. 3 and Cincinnati would drop down. Big deal. Those who think the current system is stupid (they’re right) are pushing for a playoff system and that would certainly be fun. But if we can’t get that, why not go back to the old days when, theoretically, Florida, at No. 5, still had a shot at the title?

Sure, it was all done by voting – sportswriters and coaches, most of whom are pompous louts – but all they’ve added to this system is a computer, which can’t be either pompous or loutish … yet. We say go back, go back and make The Granddaddy of Them All of some interest.

There. That’s how we begin 2010.

We hope you have a great year and don’t forget to write your congressman about college football.