Only An Idiot Would Expand The College Football Playoff

Image via Complex Original

Before Bowl Season began, the general consensus was that six teams had very legitimate arguments for a Playoff spot with only four seats to be filled. Preschool Texas Tech-level math told us that six minus four left two very disappointed programs out, so for whatever reason people said they should expand to an eight-team Playoff, because the vocal majority felt that they’d rather see two teams with no business playing for a title than two teams who'd miss out.

It sounds noble, but that’s pretty much the type of put-in-anybody attitude that has ruined every sport but college football. People (mainly people from Texas) were especially pissed that a Big Ten team got the final, controversial invitation. But it turns out they were more deserving than Alabama and Florida State, who were destined for the final four in every scenario/projection. Besides, a more deserving team getting left out of the stretch run isn't unique to CFB. Just ask the NFL's Eagles, or Texans, or Chiefs or any other team that sat at home this winter after finishing with a better record than the Carolina Panthers.

Immediately after it was announced that the Big 12 would be the lone Power Five conference that wasn't represented in the Playoff, the Lone Star State understandably seethed. TCU (who frequently looked like an alpha team) was left to play the Peach Bowl against an overrated Ole Miss squad who later got their nuts kicked in on national TV. Although I'm sympathetic to TCU, I don't heap blame upon the system, or playoff committee, or whomever else was held responsible for their championship exclusion.

Instead, I waited for someone to point out that TCU was in control of their own destiny before collapsing in the fourth quarter of a mid-October matchup at Baylor. On that day, the Horned Frogs defense melted down by blowing a massive 21-point fourth quarter lead with less than 11 minutes left. Start there when pointing fingers. They then felt the consequences of the dissolution of their own conference which left them without a title game to make their final statement. Ohio State smacked Wisconsin 59-0, and the rest was history.

Although you can point out that Virginia Tech bested the Buckeyes in Columbus months earlier, the debate never would've mattered had the Frogs did what frogs do and poisoned the Bears. And that's the very crux of the whole argument: That day was already a playoff, it just happened to take place one-third of the way through the regular season.

When it comes to the first team "left out," that squad was actually Baylor. Yet, if its Cotton Bowl loss proved anything (besides the fact that even kickers need to keep their heads on a swivel), it's that they didn't get cheated at all. Their out-of-conference schedule did them no favors: SMU (1-11), Northwestern State (6-6 in the FCS), and Buffalo (5-6)  gave them one of the easier strings in all of Texas including high school teams, middle school teams, and even those little kids from Friday Night Tykes.

At least Baylor plays in a reasonably tough conference, a problem nearly half the teams in the FBS don't have. Many feel that those teams are entitled to representation in a playoff, but barring a meatier out-of-conference schedule (a major problem in CFB), their argument should (and almost always does) fall on deaf ears.

To be clear, this is not a tournament problem but more of a college football culture problem. Multiple mid-majors don’t understand that you only have four out-of-conference games to make a statement before playing a crappy MAC, Sun Belt, Conference USA, etc. slate. Yet you still see those Group-of-Five squads scheduling FCS programs like they’re Alabama or Oregon. The total number of Group-of-Five teams scheduling those punching bags is… I don’t know. A lot. Almost all of them. Yet, when November turns to December, and the rankings are being finalized, you can set your watch to a fan base whining about “bias” when their toughest opponent was some mid-level Big Ten program (let’s call them: Iowa).

If your argument for expansion is predicated around the fact that you’re an alum upset that your undefeated school doesn’t play in a large conference and is subsequently ignored by the powers that be, then healthily channel your rage from screaming at David Pollack and Jesse Palmer to Twitter trolling your team’s head coach into scheduling some stiff competition. If your team blasted the Crimson Tide by 20 in Tuscaloosa and is still ignored, then it’s fair game to ignite a non-violent (or violent) revolution towards the NCAA.

During the BCS's 16-year reign of terror, there was never a season where a looked-over fan base didn't try to argue with a cold, logical, heartless computer. If you've ever had a video game glitch on you, you know the frustration of this fruitless exercise. But as we saw this year, even if you double the entrants, somebody will still get left out. Instead of arguing about No. 2, we argue about No. 4. Multiply it by two again and your argument will revolve around No. 8. It's unavoidable. But the more teams you want to let into a playoff, the more and more your arguments will revolve around squads with no business playing for titles to begin with.

This year No. 7 going into bowl season was Mississippi State. Georgia Tech made them look trashier than a reality show on Bravo with an Orange Bowl ass-whipping on New Year's Eve. No. 8 was Michigan State, and they had zero merit in arguing for title hopes because they lost to both teams playing tonight (in fairness, no Spartan alums are arguing for it, but they'd still be in with an eight-team format).

Basically, wating more rounds for a bigger playoff leads to debate about teams further and further down in the polls. This makes people forget that these teams are playing for the label of the best team in (blank sport). This brings me to the explanation of the above picture. That shot of dispirited youngsters is last year's Larry Brown-led SMU basketball squad who went into their conference tournament as the No. 18 team in the country, before being bounced in the first round of said tournament, and then getting left out of the Big Dance altogether. That's in a playoff that takes 68 freakin' teams, and yet for the umpteenth year in a row, they could've justified a 69th.

Bottom line, arguing about snubs overlooks the fact that only the best of the best should play for titles. Instead, we get artificially extended tournaments to gin up casual fan excitement. We all agree that March Madness is great, but the craziness of the tournament masks its flaws. Fortunately, that provides the perfect segue...

There's no denying that March Madness is the greatest of all postseasons of any level. It's fun. It's intense. And it also ruins the first three months of the season.

Honestly, who (besides Jay Bilas) is talking about college basketball at this moment right now? Who cares between Thanksgiving and Valentine's Day? Essentially, massive playoffs come at the expense of regular seasons (i.e. the longer part of a season) and in an era when average teams advance *cough*Carolina Panthers*cough*, college football is the last sport that entertains from start to finish. After all, if you don't follow college football, then you have no idea what it's like to be sweating out the waning seconds of the season opener like you're—um—Val Kilmer on a StairMaster.

There's no counter argument, this is true. Eventually we'll see the Playoff multiply again like Mickey Mouse's broom in Fantasia. And once you go forward, you never go back (unless you're Roger Goodell). We've yet to see an instance when playoffs were contracted to prevent mediocre teams from winning unwarranted championships (see: the 2011 New York Giants). We've also yet to see an instance when playoffs were contracted to prevent mediocre teams from unwarranted playoff entry (see: every Eastern Conference eight seed for the past 20 years). But if that's what the masses truly want, eventually that's what the masses will get. And if it ends up working, then the odds are high that I'll regret posting a piece calling every proponent of the idea an "idiot."

Or, more likely, I'll just switch the name on the byline to 'Justin Block,' and pile on.