Mediocrity doesn’t have to be rewarded.

MITCH BLATT

Sports by Brooks is reporting that the NCAA will expand March Madness to 96 teams.

This (pointless) expansion illustrates a system that is the exact opposite of the BCS system, and, while it is entertaining for what it is, it kind of deligitimizes the regular season.

Let’s assume the point of the playoffs is to crown the best team as champion. Any team that places third or fourth in the SEC is obviously not the best team in the sport, yet they are probably going to have a chance to win the title in college basketball. On a practical level, they probably won’t, but they have the chance to mess up the process (and arguably make the games less exciting) and to take away the meaning of the championship.

On the other hand, there are also a lot more teams in college basketball than in football and a some talented but of unknown teams. George Mason doesn’t have a football team, for example. But for every George Mason, there’s multiple “mid-majors” that lose early.

The NCAA, however, apparently with the idea that CBS has enough channels to broadcast five games at the same time, is just creating a whole new round of games that might as well be simulated.

As it is, the #16 seed is 0-100 in first round games. I don’t forsee the #17 seed doing much better.

The #15 seed vs. the #2 seed is 4-96.

The #14 seed vs. the #3 seed is 15-85.

The #13 seed vs. the #4 seed is 22-79.

The #12 is 37-83 vs. the #5. (As is the #11 vs. the #6.)

Even #7 vs. #10 is only 48-76. (Sources)

Already, we can see that the regular season does a good job of weeding out the losers, and we can see that the first round is almost all pointless as is. No one is excited for Wofford vs. Directional School East.

(The NBA playoffs also have way too many pointless games, with playoff spots for .500 or below teams, playoff spots for the top 50% of the league. That’s one reason no one watches the Finals, because the playoffs drag on so long that no one cares by the time the Finals come around, and it’s the first week of summer.)

In contrast to college basketball, college football games actually mean something. Most college football games mean, well, everything.

The NCAA Championship usually means two undefeated teams. (And the college football gods, usually oblige by having only two undefeateds left at the end of the season, with the exception of that year USC tried to claim a “split national championship.” … Cincinnati losing 51-24 to Florida doesn’t count as an undefeated.)

When Florida played Alabama for the SEC Championship this year, that was a big game. If a playoff system existed, that game would have meant nothing, because Florida and Alabama would have both made the playoffs–and maybe they’d match up again during the playoffs, say in the championship, and then if the loser of the SEC Championship won that would present one team with an arbitrary title based on the luck of having their victory on a different date.

Obviously, in college football, there’s usually four, maybe six teams that can make a legitimate claim that they might be the best team in the game.

But when Alabama crushes Florida in the SEC Championship, and when USC crushes Ohio State early in the season, can either of those teams legitimately argue that they are the best team in the nation?

However those are precisely two of the teams that would have made the playoffs.

The final BCS standings had Florida at #3 and Ohio State at #5. What kind of a playoff system would it be to have Florida competing on an equal level with a team that just trounced them weeks earlier?

You reap what you sow. Every team has a shot at the national championship, but losing to the eventual national champion doesn’t make you champion material. It makes you a respectable third-place.

The games matter. Keep it that way.

Photo: AP

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