Another
year, another controversial finish to the college football regular season. By
now we’ve grown accustomed to the annual debate, when teams from across the
nation compete in a confusing and opaque process to decide which deserve to
play for a national championship. For years people bemoaned the lack of a
playoff, when computers selected the top two teams and pitted them head to head
against each other. So now instead we have an arbitrary committee to produce
four contenders, and somehow that didn’t solve all the problems.
Every
year we go through this, and every year people begin throwing out alternative
solutions. The most common is to expand the playoff further to eight teams,
though I can’t say I see how that would solve this year. Most of these
proposals would give automatic berths to each of the five conference winners,
with another three at large slots open for the committee to pick. And then we
find ourselves in the same situation as always, arguing this time over spot
eight just as we have argued spots two and four for years.
No
matter the proposal, we are going to come back to the same fundamental problem,
one I highlighted a year ago. With 130 teams in college football
and only twelve games in each team’s season, it simply isn’t possible to gather
enough information to select a field for a playoff. The best teams rarely face
each other, instead wasting away weeks facing off against competition like
Chattanooga, Mercer, and Illinois. So when it comes time to compare these teams
against each other, we’re forced to weigh impossible variables like who had the
best victory, or the worst defeat, or which team won its conference, or how
good each looks to the naked eye.
Expanding
the playoff field won’t work. To fix college football, we need to do something
more drastic. This was a proposal I mentioned here a year ago, though not one I
got into the specifics of. But a year later I remain convinced that it is the
best solution, so I decided to have some fun with it.
The
problem with college football is that there are too many teams, and that the
best teams spend half their games playing far inferior opponents. So what we
have to do is eliminate the vast majority of teams. Most of the schools out
there have no hope of competing for a national championship, so we might as
well make it official, kicking them to a lower division and letting the top 40
sort it out each year.
Before
I go any farther, I want to stress that I know this will never actually happen.
This proposal will of course be shouted down for reasons that are ostensibly
based on tradition, but really about television revenue. But just because it
will never happen doesn’t mean we can’t have fun thinking about it (it’s never
stopped me from imagining in a Vikings Super Bowl victory), so let’s go ahead.
The
most glaring issue with the current playoff system is that they are trying to
pick four teams from five major conferences. Every year there is going to be at
least one conference champion left out (this year there are actually two!), and
that just makes life more complicated than it has to be. So let’s start by
cutting one of the conferences entirely. The Big 12 makes the most sense, since
it nearly folded a couple years ago anyway and it’s easy to distribute its
teams across the country.
The
system I’m setting up will have twelve conferences in total. The top four will
have ten teams each, the 40 that will be in national title contention every
year. Each of these conferences will have two lower conferences associated with
it, and these conferences will compete each year for a chance to be promoted to
the upper level.
I
don’t have a specific plan for the system of promotion and relegation, but
here’s what I’d suggest. Two teams from each conference are relegated each
year, replaced by the winners of the lower conferences. You can have some fun
with this if you want, kicking out the team with the worst record and letting
the teams with the second and third best record play at the end of the season
to keep from being sent down. Alternatively we could just have one team
relegated each year. I don’t have strong feelings on the subject.
In
any case, the real tricky part of this is setting up the conferences from the
start. Somehow we need to select which 40 teams will be in the top, and which 90
will have to work their way up by winning their conferences. And because this
is still college football, there is no way to do this that isn’t arbitrary
bullshit. So here’s the arbitrary bullshit I chose.
(Note
that you are free to disagree with this methodology. Remember, this is a stupid
thought experiment posted by one person on his blog that only 50 people will
ever see.)
The
easy way to do this would be to just pick the teams with the best records over
the past few years. But I think that leaves out a few things that should be
considered. A good selection method would take all of the following criteria
into account.
- Choose teams that have done well lately
- Choose teams with a history and tradition of success
- Prioritize real national title contenders over teams that just win eight or nine games every year
- Not punish teams that have worse results as a result of a more difficult schedule
I
settled on a 60 point system compiled from five categories:
·
Record over the
past five years:
weighted in favor of the most recent years (5 points for this year, 4 for last
year, etc). Rather than using winning percentage I took the total number of
wins and divided by 12, treating bowl and conference championships like extra
credit and not punishing teams for losses. Capped at 15 points.
·
Historic success: 1 point for each
national championship during the poll era (since 1936), 1 points for every 100
victories over its entire history. Capped at 15 points.
· Recent Title
Contention:
1 point for each appearance in the playoff semifinals, 2 points for each
appearance in a title game, 5 points for a national championship, only
including the past ten years. Capped at 15 points.
·
Strength of
Schedule:
I took the easy way out on this and just gave each team a score based on the
conference it plays in. I averaged the scores from the first category and
ranked the conferences 1 to 10, then assigned point values from 5.5 to 10 in
increments of 0.5. Did I mention how stupid and arbitrary this is?
·
Reward for not
being a disgrace to the human race: 5 points for everyone! Except you,
Baylor. And you, Penn State. And you, Notre Dame. This didn’t end up making any
difference, but I was worried Baylor might sneak in. Fortunately their 1-11
mark this year kept them firmly on the outside.
So
there we have it. Every team is assigned a score from 0 to 60, and I chose the
top 40 to fill out my four conferences. A few of the teams that made it were
obvious. Alabama was the only team to score a perfect 60, and they were the top
by a significant margin. The only other team above 50 was Ohio State, and there
were only nine schools that scored higher than 40. The lowest score belongs to
Coastal Carolina, who was only promoted to Division I this year and scored 9.8.
The worst performance of a team that has been at the Division I level for the
past five years belongs to South Alabama, who didn’t even reach a quarter of
the total of their in-state foe.
The
last team to make the cut was Colorado, whose 1990 national title bumped them
up to 29.1, only 0.3 points ahead of the first team out, my beloved
Northwestern Wildcats. And as much as I’d love to rig the numbers, I hold
myself to a high standard when it comes to random nonsense. So sorry,
Northwestern, but you’ll have to try your luck in the lower conferences.
And,
without further ado, here are the 40 teams that will be competing for a
national title next season:
Ranking
|
Team
|
Score
|
1
|
Alabama
|
60
|
2
|
Ohio
State
|
53.6
|
3
|
Clemson
|
50
|
4
|
Oklahoma
|
45.7
|
5
|
LSU
|
44.8
|
6
|
Auburn
|
43.9
|
7
|
Florida
State
|
41.3
|
8
|
USC
|
41.3
|
9
|
Florida
|
40.7
|
10
|
Georgia
|
37.5
|
11
|
Miami
(FL)
|
35.9
|
12
|
Notre
Dame
|
35.7
|
13
|
Michigan
|
35.6
|
14
|
Nebraska
|
35.4
|
15
|
Washington
|
35
|
16
|
Oregon
|
34.6
|
17
|
Texas
|
34.1
|
18
|
Wisconsin
|
33.8
|
19
|
Michigan
State
|
33.7
|
20
|
Tennessee
|
33.5
|
21
|
Texas
A&M
|
32.7
|
22
|
Minnesota
|
32.6
|
23
|
Stanford
|
32.3
|
24
|
Virginia
Tech
|
31.7
|
25
|
Texas
Christian
|
31.3
|
26
|
Pitt
|
31.3
|
27
|
Oklahoma
State
|
30.6
|
28
|
Iowa
|
30.4
|
29
|
Penn
State
|
30.3
|
30
|
Georgia
Tech
|
30.3
|
31
|
Utah
|
29.9
|
32
|
Ole
Miss
|
29.8
|
33
|
Mississippi
State
|
29.8
|
34
|
West
Virginia
|
29.8
|
35
|
Louisville
|
29.8
|
36
|
San
Diego State
|
29.4
|
37
|
Arkansas
|
29.4
|
38
|
Missouri
|
29.3
|
39
|
South
Carolina
|
29.2
|
40
|
Colorado
|
29.1
|
As
difficult as it is to select these 40 teams, it might be even tougher to group
them into four conferences. On this list we have eight Big Ten, seven ACC, twelve
SEC, six PAC 12, five Big 12, one independent, and one Mountain West (congrats
to San Diego State). We need find some way to organize these teams into four conferences that
group teams regionally and preserve historic rivalries.
I ended up splitting
things into roughly the southeast (SEC), the east (ACC), the middle (Big Ten),
and the west (PAC 10). The trickiest part was filling out the western
conference, and its footprint ends up pretty broad, as far east as Missouri, as
far north as Washington, and as far south as TCU.
SEC
|
Big Ten
|
ACC
|
PAC 10
|
Alabama
|
Ohio
State
|
Clemson
|
USC
|
LSU
|
Oklahoma
|
Florida
State
|
Nebraska
|
Auburn
|
Michigan
|
Miami
|
Washington
|
Florida
|
Texas
|
Notre
Dame
|
Oregon
|
Georgia
|
Wisconsin
|
Virginia
Tech
|
Stanford
|
Tennessee
|
Michigan
State
|
Pittsburgh
|
TCU
|
Ole
Miss
|
Texas
A&M
|
Penn
State
|
Utah
|
Mississippi
State
|
Minnesota
|
Georgia
Tech
|
San
Diego State
|
Arkansas
|
Oklahoma
State
|
West
Virginia
|
Missouri
|
South
Carolina
|
Iowa
|
Louisville
|
Colorado
|
In
the end, I actually really like how these conferences work out. Nebraska gets a
bit screwed out of some traditional matchups, but we do some good things as well,
reuniting battles like Texas A&M vs Texas and Pittsburgh vs West Virginia.
The Big Ten has spent the past twenty years looking for a team other than Ohio
State that can compete at a national level, and they finally get it in
Oklahoma. And the SEC regains its traditional shape, while ditching bottom
feeders Kentucky and Vanderbilt.
The
structure of a season would still have twelve games. Each team would play the
other nine teams in its own conference and schedule three outside, much as they
do now. So if Notre Dame wants to keep playing USC, they can do that. They can
even play teams from the lower level, to preserve rivalries in case of
relegation (we would hate for Ohio State to lose its annual gimme win if
Michigan got sent down).
The
top two teams would be chosen by record in conference, with ties broken by head
to head matchups or by out of conference records in the case of three way ties.
There is still a potential for messy situations with three or more teams, but
with a higher level of consistent competition we will see fewer teams running
through with only one or two losses.
Obviously
the schedules would be very different if we actually arranged things this way,
but this entire experiment is just for fun, so let’s have some fun. This year
the conference records would have resulted in conference title games of Clemson
vs Miami, USC vs TCU or Washington, Wisconsin vs Oklahoma, and some combination
of Alabama, Georgia, and Auburn. And the teams at risk of relegation would
include Colorado, Nebraska, Tennessee, Arkansas, Minnesota, Iowa, Pittsburgh,
and Florida State.
We
would have our eight team playoff. We would get more high quality matchups
every year. We’d have the added drama of a relegation chase every year, and we’d
do a better job clearly identifying the national champion. It wouldn’t be fair,
but if you want fairness, you should probably just watch the NFL.
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