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David Spates The bowl system is a sham, just ask Marshall I write this column every year. I write it
for myself more than anyone else call it mental health
via keyboard. When the year's college football season ends
and the bowl bids are handed out, I write about how my alma mater,
Virginia Tech, gets hosed and, despite a good record, ends up
playing in the second annual Weenie.com Bowl or one of the other
growing list of insignificant post-season college bowl games. The bowl system is still a joke, and now I
have come to see it for what it really is a scam and a
farce to separate fans from their money. I present to you the
Marshall Thundering Herd, a Division I college football team
that, despite its undefeated season, will not play for the national
championship. It won't play in a BCS game. It won't play in a
New Year's Day game. It won't even play in a city you would want
to visit in winter. The prize for going 12-0? A Dec. 27 Motor
City Bowl bid to play 8-3 BYU in Detroit. Rah, rah. And that's what the bowl games have become
meaningless. Unless you're playing for the national championship,
a bowl game victory or loss means diddily. I'm not just saying
that because my team if playing for the national championship
either. The Hokies have played numerous meaningless bowl games
in which the outcome was completely insignificant. The bowl games have turned into a cash cow.
The weasels at the NCAA and the host cities realize that there's
big money in them tha'r alumni. So year after year we add more
pointless bowl games pointless except for the purpose of
making money. You have to hand it to them, really. It's a stroke
of genius. At the end of the college football season, after a
ton of money has <I>already<I> been raked in, special
"post-season" games will be held, the outcomes of which
will mean nothing apart from the final rankings. The alumni turn
out in droves, spend millions on overpriced tickets, stay at
price-gouging hotels and fly in from all four corners of the
country. It's a great scam. The football almighty convince you
the games are somehow important. Take a look at the NCAA basketball tournament.
Now that's the way you should decide a championship. Sixty-four
teams start off, any one of which could go all the way and take
the title. It's competition in its purest form. You win, you
move on to the next game. You lose, you go home. If you defeat
everyone you play, you're the champ. But not in football. The NCAA could have just told Marshall at
the beginning of the season where it stands. I know a playoff system in football is nowhere
in sight, so I speak my piece through this yearly column. Decide
the championship on the field, not in some computer science grad
student's desktop PC or by a popularity contest (a.k.a. the coaches'
and writers' polls). It's the essence of sports. So what will I be doing on Jan. 4 when Virginia
Tech takes the field to play Bowden and his band of discount
shoppers? I plan to be in the Superdome. How many times does
your team play for the national championship? I know it's a scam,
and I know I'm simply perpetuating the corrupt system with my
attendance. And yet, there I go. I'm weak. I admit it. I know
it's a farce, but I'd kick myself later if I didn't go. The system has us over a barrel. I just want the powers-that-be to understand that we know what they're doing, and we don't like it. If no fans showed up for the bowl games, that would make a statement. I just don't see that happening. If I were a Marshall fan, however, it would be tempting. Besides, who wants to be in Detroit in late December? |