A Brief Digression

When I was in college, there was no Division 1A college football league (or FCS, god helps us). The Ivy League was a Division 1 football league just like the Big 12. (Except that there was no Big 12 then; there was a Big Eight featuring Oklahoma and Nebraska and a Southwest Conference featuring Arkansas and Texas and the two merged, spilling non-complaint programs into other conferences like the Southeast and yet-to-be-formed Mountain West and Conference USA. But I digress from my digression.)

One year, one or another collection of student-athletes representing an Ivy League school got off to a 4-0 start and was ranked in the Top 25, or at least that's how I vaguely remember it. For certain, they got a significant number of votes (not amount of votes, for you sports reporters who don't know grammar from your Gramma) for defeating the likes of Brown, Army and Lafayette.

Today, of course, the division distinction makes it obvious to us that even an undefeated Ivy League team probably couldn't beat the worst Big Ten team on its worst day, and certainly couldn't compete with a middle-of-the-pack BCS program, much less merit a Top 25 ranking. It's absurd. But absent any guides, some voters saw the record and put Yale or Penn or whoever it was on their big board.

All of which I've been reminded of lately as the radio and TV sports talkers bandy about hypothetical runs of the table for some teams -- notably Cincinnati, TCU and Boise State -- and, in many cases, bemoan the injustice of keeping them out of a championship game despite their unblemished won-loss record. The argument that an undefeated team should get some automatic bonus reward is just as absurd as voting an Ivy League team into the Top 25.

The truth is that as long as we don't have a playoff system or an objective way of comparing teams in far-flung conferences, we have to rely on subjective measures, like watching them play. If all we're examining is a team's record, we can have monkeys vote for the national champion, which is what we did in 1984, when a BYU squad that wasn't one of the 10 best teams in America was awarded the championship based on a zero in the loss column in a third-rate league and a signature win in the last quarter against a 6-6 Michigan contingent that finished sixth in the Big Ten.

Another truth is that your schedule matters. Playing as a championship contender in the SEC means that you're going to play four teams that can beat you even if you play well, and four more that can beat you if you don't. Going 10-1 in that crucible is mighty impressive. Playing as a national championship contender in the Big East this year means that there are only one or two games that you could lose without falling on your face.

It's not just that Florida or Alabama or Texas has more tough games than Cincinnati, it's the compounding effects those battles have. Cincinnati can rest a star player during the Syracuse game so he's at full speed against [insert whoever might be any good besides them in the Big East this year] the following week. (Try this argument on Boise State: they can rest regulars against Nevada, Louisiana Tech, Idaho, New Mexico State, Hawaii...indeed their entire league schedule in order to be fresh for the one game that will make or break their season. Plus, they can save their trick plays and surprise strategies for that one game.) Alabama can't rest anyone against Georgia and Tennessee in order to prepare for LSU. Boise State can hope for the breaks to go their way in their one tossup game against Oregon, but Texas can't expect to have luck on their side against Oklahoma, Texas Tech, Missouri and Kansas. They have to outplay most of those teams to go undefeated.

All that said, there's something to be learned by just watching teams play and observing that Cincinnati lacks Florida's team speed or size or tackling ability or whatever (probably all of these.) The reason you and I don't vote in the AP poll is that we're not experts; the voters are supposed to be. (Whether they are or not is another argument; I lack the expertise even to determine that.)

Besides, it's not as if Cincinnati slinks off back to chemistry class after earning the Big East crown. They would win a lovely BCS trip to Dallas or Tempe or Miami on New Year's week and an opportunity to show that, for one game at least, they belong.

As non-BCS schools, Boise State and TCU are different cases. Their first argument is for an invitation to a New Year's bowl game -- maybe against Cincinnati -- and that seems like a much more reasonable demand. We've seen repeatedly how an undermanned non-BCS team can turn a Bowl upside-down thrillingly and spill an elite 0pponent all over the grass.

Despite their impressive win over Oregon, Boise State has no case for the Championship Game this year even if they slay vaunted Idaho. Let's face it, if poll participants ranked teams based solely on how good they think the teams are, the Broncos wouldn't be in the Top 10, and maybe not in the Top 20. They would be a significant underdog on a neutral field against three-loss Oklahoma or two-loss Virginia Tech.

Now TCU, they're another story. First, the Mountain West is superior to the Big East this year, and the argument could be made versus the ACC as well. Certainly the Horned Frogs have significant challenges at BYU and at home against Utah, in addition to their modest win over Clemson. Should everyone else lose, they will get significant support for the title clash, and I'd be rooting for them. But I'd have a hard time justifying how 12-0 in the Mountain West is a greater accomplishment, or requires a better team, than 12-1 in the SEC or PAC 10. Slaying two dragons, two alligators and seven puppies is hardly the equal -- in my eyes -- of fighting off the Visigoths and sustaining one stab wound.

The bottom line is that if you want to play with the big boys, you're going to have to play the big boys as often as possible and be really impressive against the little ones. And I haven't seen too much of that.
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