(LEXINGTON, Ky.) — Apparently, I’m the last man in America who thinks a 24-team College Football Playoff is a terrible idea.
Alan Cutler likes it. Jeff Drummond likes it. And now Kentucky football coach Will Stein has weighed in, calling the argument that expansion would diminish the regular season a “really lame take.”
Well, Coach, I resemble that remark.
Stein wasn’t talking directly to me. At least I don’t think he was. But after spending the better part of yesterday arguing with Cutler and Drummond about this very subject, I felt like the kid who gets sent to the principal’s office because somebody else started the food fight.
I like Will Stein. If he keeps winning, I’ll gladly nominate him for governor. But on this one, I think he’s wrong.
And so are my esteemed media colleagues.
What bothers me isn’t simply the prospect of 24 teams competing for a national championship. It’s how eagerly everyone seems willing to embrace the idea without asking whether college football actually needs it.
We’ve had a 12-team playoff for all of two seasons. Has it failed? Is there overwhelming evidence that deserving championship contenders are being excluded? Has anybody demonstrated that doubling the field would produce a better national champion?
Apparently, somebody has demonstrated how much additional television revenue it could generate. And just like that, we’ve got ourselves a movement.
Of course coaches have reasons to favor expansion. More playoff spots mean more recruiting ammunition, more opportunities to claim postseason success, and more chances to justify those multimillion-dollar salaries.
I’m not questioning anybody’s integrity. It’s human nature. If somebody offered to double the number of award-winning sports columnists, I’d probably lead the lobbying effort myself.
But asking football coaches whether they want more playoff opportunities is like asking orthodontists whether everyone needs braces. I can assure you the answer might depend on who’s paying the bill.
And the people paying the bills here are television networks, conferences, and athletic departments, all with considerable financial incentives to keep expanding the product.
Now, Cutler and Drummond make a legitimate point. A larger playoff would keep more teams in contention late in the season. Seeding, byes, and home-field advantage would still give teams something to play for.
Stein makes another argument that’s harder to dismiss. Kentucky plays nine SEC games plus Louisville. Teams in this league beat each other up, and a couple of losses shouldn’t necessarily eliminate a deserving championship contender.
Fair enough. But isn’t that what strength of schedule is supposed to account for? Reward teams for playing difficult opponents. Don’t automatically expand the championship field because the SEC is a particularly unforgiving neighborhood.
And here’s the irony. The conferences helped create these demanding schedules, then turn around and argue that the schedules are so demanding they need more playoff invitations.
That’s a little like volunteering to run a marathon and then demanding they shorten the course because your feet hurt.
Cutler, Drummond, and Stein are right about the benefits.
They’re also answering the wrong question.
Of course every game would still matter. But how much would it matter compared to what we’re giving up?
Consider a late-season showdown between two championship contenders. Under a more exclusive system, the loser might see its national title hopes disappear. With 24 invitations available, both could lose and still have a perfectly reasonable path to the championship.
We’ve changed the stakes from win or your championship dream might be over to win or you might have to play an extra game.
Those aren’t the same thing.
Jeff challenged me to identify games that would become less meaningful. He insists additional playoff implications would more than compensate for whatever jeopardy disappears.
Maybe. But the excitement of more bubble teams fighting to get in doesn’t necessarily replace the drama of elite teams fighting to stay alive.
And if the argument is that more teams deserve a chance, where does it end? With four teams, somebody complained about finishing fifth. With 12, somebody complains about finishing 13th. With 24, somebody will inevitably complain about being 25th.
Eventually, we’ll expand to 32, and some television executive will discover that 48 makes even more financial sense.
Meanwhile, we’re discussing eliminating conference championship games to accommodate more postseason football.
Think about that. We might sacrifice games that determine actual conference champions so that more teams that didn’t win their conferences can compete for a national championship.
And we’re asking players to absorb the physical punishment of potentially five postseason games, all while congratulating ourselves for creating additional opportunities.
I love March Madness. I love Cinderella stories. But college football isn’t basketball, and its regular season shouldn’t become a three-month audition for December.
Nor am I suggesting we return to the old four-team playoff. That system was too restrictive. But why not give the current format a reasonable chance before deciding it needs to be doubled?
Perhaps the most frustrating part is that the benefits of expansion are so easy to imagine. Who wouldn’t love a playoff game at Kroger Field?
I’d be first in line.
Of course, Kentucky could also sneak in as the 23rd seed, travel to Athens, and get obliterated by Georgia by 35 points.
That would be a wonderful experience.
Once.
The costs, meanwhile, are harder to recognize. You don’t immediately notice when a regular-season game loses some of its urgency. You don’t necessarily mourn a tradition until it’s gone. You simply wake up one Saturday and realize that losing doesn’t hurt quite as much because there’s always another chance.
Maybe that’s progress. Maybe I’m just another aging Kentucky fan who thinks everything was better when tickets were cheaper, players stayed four years, and the Power K wasn’t merely a nostalgic fashion statement.
But nobody has convinced me that college football needs 24 playoff teams.
They’ve only convinced me that 24 playoff teams can make somebody a lot of money.
And that’s what troubles me most.
College football spent generations making Saturdays special. Now we’re apparently willing to sell some of what made them special for a few more lucrative television windows.
Maybe Cutler, Drummond, and Stein are right. Maybe I’m the stubborn old curmudgeon who refuses to embrace the inevitable.
But before we celebrate everything we’re gaining, shouldn’t somebody ask what we’re losing?
Because once we’ve sold it, I seriously doubt anybody’s going to offer us a refund.
Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. Explore his latest, Whining for Posterity, and all his books at Amazon.
