By: Jesse Rubinoff
(some of the names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent)
Sunday's have become quite the ritual in the Rubinoff household. At
the same time every Sunday, I go downstairs to the family room, take
my rightful place on the couch and watch football from 11:00am to midnight.
Throughout the day, my father Fred will take breaks from his hard-work
around the house to sit and watch the festivities with me.
Yesterday, October 17, 2011, Fred was doing his thing, putting away
the groceries, when I started laughing hysterically because the video
from the Jim Harbaugh and Jim Schwartz squabble came on the television.
It appeared at least, that Schwartz didn't take too kindly to
Harbaugh's exuberant victory celebration, and the Lions head coach
fell into a fit of rage equivalent to a fourteen-year old girl that
has just been told the Justin Bieber concert got cancelled. Fred and
I shared a good laugh. He kept asking me, “What's Schwartz' problem?
Why is he freaking out like that?” I didn't say it...but I wanted to.
“Dad, you've never acted like that before? You've never freaked out
at the opposing coach at my sporting events?”
The year was 1996. I was 7-years old playing for the Shoppers Drug
Mart T-Ball squad. I'm pretty sure it was a playoff game, but I can't
be sure. Based on the intensity of what transpired, it probably was.
A couple of players on the opposing team were wearing shorts as part
of their uniform. For those of you who have played t-ball before, you
know that is a serious faux pas. The umpire recognized the other
team's impartiality towards the dress code and issued them a stern
warning. One more infraction he said, and they would be forced to
forfeit the game.
The other team's coach, Johnny Millstrom, didn't mistake the eighteen-year
old umpire for Jerry West, and immediately accused Fred, the coach of
my team, of tattle-tailing on his team of seven-year olds. Fred, to
his credit, has held strong to this day that he said nothing to the
umpire to bring about 'Uni-Gate'. Coach Millstrom however, failed to
take Fred at his word.
Late in the game, Fred decided to make a roster move. He was going to
pinch hit for one of our players who had to leave early, in favour of
my three-year old brother Spencer. Let me be clear. Spencer was no
child phenom. He wasn't the Tiger Woods or Sidney Crosby of t-ball.
He didn't have Ed Sullivan, David Letterman or Jay Leno ranting and
raving about his special talents as a kid. He was just a three-year
old who wanted a chance to play with the big boys.
Spencer grabbed his helmet, waddled up to the plate as any three-year
old would, and got ready to give a hard whack at the ball. Not so
fast. With 'Uni-Gate' still fresh in his mind, Coach Millstrom came
storming out of the dugout towards the umpire. He protested Spencer's
involvement in the game, claiming, and rightly so, that he wasn't on
the roster. Fred, thinking Spencer posed no real offensive threat,
couldn't understand why Coach Millstrom would complain. The two met at
home plate, argued, and almost came to blows. If my memory serves me
correctly, it looked EXACTLY like the Harbaugh and Schwartz fracas.
Two grown men at each other's throats, albeit, for slightly different
reasons.
The arguing continued until the mature-beyond-his-years umpire finally
stepped in to stop the situation from turning into a UFC-style
bloodbath. He dismissed both Fred and Coach Millstrom to the parking lot,
instructing them to sit on the hoods of their cars. I don't remember
if Spencer got a chance to take his at-bat. But that's not the point.
After about ten minutes, Fred and Coach Millstrom apologized to each
other. They shook hands. Fred introduced me to Coach Millstrom's son,
and we have been best friends ever since.
Now, while the stakes may have been higher in yesterday's Lions-49ers
game, Schwartz and Harbaugh can both learn something from my father.
Apologize to each other like men. After all, as my friendship with
Coach Millstrom's son proves, you never really know what can come out of
a simple apology.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
To Russia With Love - Fred Rubinoff's hockey journey
By: Jesse Rubinoff
The year is 1976. Sixteen-year old Fred Rubinoff is sitting in his seat on Aeroflot Airlines, scrunched up like an accordion, when he finally realizes the significance of the moment. As captain of the midget Don Mills Flyers, Fred is about to lead his team into a battle for hockey supremacy against two nations of relative unknowns; the Russians and the Czechoslovakians. Four years earlier, the Russian national team had taken Team Canada to an eighth and final game in the Summit Series, and just months before Fred's journey, Canada had narrowly defeated the Russians again to win the Canada Cup. Fred and his fellow teenage teammates would now be adding another chapter to an already storied hockey rivalry.
It's easy for Fred, now 51 years old, to recount his proudest moments as a hockey player. There is a strong sense of nostalgia, yet a greater sense of accomplishment when he discusses what it was like for his team to play hockey in Russia. But first, Fred makes it clear that the road to Russia cannot be mitigated. It was as big of a thrill, if not a bigger one to be crowned Canada's top team and earn the chance to venture into the great unknown. That year, the Don Mills Flyers had finished the Metro Toronto Hockey League now the Greater Toronto Hockey League season atop the standings. That got them into the Ontario Play-downs, where they steam-rolled teams from Kirkland Lake, Hamilton and Peterborough and earned the chance to play in the Canada-wide Wrigley tournament for a shot to go to Russia and Czechoslovakia.
The Wrigley tournament held significant water in 1976. The best teams from around the country came to do battle in Moncton, New Brunswick, all with the same goal in mind: win the tournament and then get the chance to do what their childhood heroes in the NHL had just done, play in Russia. The Flyers won four games en route to the final where they played against a speedy and skillful squad from Quebec. Nerves had never really been a concern for Fred. He loved the game of hockey and considered it a blessing to be able to play it at such a high level. But as Fred explains, the boys knew how much was on the line going into the finals, "We knew that if we won, we'd be going to Russia as the Canadian representatives. We wanted to be the team that exchanged the logo on the front of our jersey for the Canadian Maple Leaf. So yeah...I was nervous, I think we all were because we wanted to win." The Flyers put together a total team effort and disposed of Quebec's best 7-6, winning the Wrigley Tournament and becoming the latest edition of "Canada's team".
With the tournament victory came a lot of enhanced press coverage. Three major Toronto newspapers started covering the Flyers' every move. As captain of the team, Fred was lured to several speaking arrangements set up by the people at Wrigley. The Flyers started playing exhibition games against Canadian junior teams laden with 18, 19 and 20 year olds to get ready for the Russians and the Czechs. They kept winning. They knew they were good enough, and they wanted the real test. "The anticipation was brutal," says Fred. "We just wanted to go already. We had no idea what we were in for but that was the beauty of it, that was the excitement. Enough with the junior teams we thought, give us the Russians!" And finally, in early March, off they went on that Aeroflot plane, heading for the motherland with one goal in mind...win.
Fred didn't know much about Russia then, but then again nobody really did. As a 16-year old, Fred only knew that it was a communist country, and that the national team had put up quite a fight against the Canadians in the Summit Series. But looking back 35 years later, Fred vividly remembers his time walking around Moscow because there was a lot that was different than what he was used to back home. "The place was very grey, nobody really smiled. The people that were with us were nice, but I assumed those were the higher-ups in the society, because everyone else seemed cold and unmotivated." But the Flyers were treated well. They stayed in a first-class hotel, the food, while it was foreign and not necessarily agreeable with the North-American digestive system, was actually quite tasty. They had everything they wanted. The relationship between the Canadians and the Russians seemed to be blossoming. That is until the Flyers stepped onto the ice.
The Russians had been known to use some questionable tactics on the ice and it didn't take long for Fred to become acquainted with what was in store for the rest of the tournament. Early in the first game, Fred went into the corner to battle for a loose puck, and in came a big, burly Russian chasing after him. Fred got there first, and the Russian player jabbed his stick straight into the back of Fred's right leg. Fred finished the rest of the shift and skated back to the bench. He was in excruciating agony, hesitant to look down at his leg. When he finally brought himself to do it, Fred saw a shard of wood from the Russian's stick lodged in the back of his leg. While he was eventually okay, the spear served notice to the rest of his team that the Russians were going to use any means necessary to come away with victory. Unfortunately for the Russians, their tactics of dirty play weren't good enough in the first game as the Flyers walked away 4-2 victors. The Flyers tied the second game 4-4, and then were slated to square off against the Junior Red Army team, a team of supposed future Russian stars. It was before the game against the Junior Red Army squad where the questionable on-ice tactics of the Russians suddenly turned into questionable off-ice tactics as well.
Before the game against the Red Army, the Russians painted the dressing room that the Flyers had used in previous games, forcing the Flyers to another change room that was about a five minute walk from the ice surface. The entire team's sticks disappeared before magically showing up about five minutes before puck drop. "You never knew if the games that were being played were on purpose or not. So it was really important to not worry about that part of it, and to just go with the flow and concentrate on winning the hockey games," Fred explains. And that's exactly what the Flyers did, disposing of the Junior Red Army team by a score of 5-3.
The fourth team the Flyers were to play against was supposed to be the weakest of the bunch. However, when Fred stepped onto the ice for warmups, and looked across the rink, he had a feeling that wasn't going to be the case. "I recognized some of the players from previous games. We all kind of looked at each other and thought, holy crap, they put together a team of all-stars so that we wouldn't go home undefeated. Whether or not we were correct in assuming their motives, that's what it seemed like for sure." To the Flyers credit, they rose to the occasion and were minutes away from leaving Russia 3-0-1 when a huge brawl erupted in front of the Russians net. The Flyers played the remainder of the game two men down, eventually losing 6-5. "It was a ridiculous ending but we knew in our heart of hearts that we were better than their group of all-stars, and that made us feel pretty good about our accomplishments in Russia."
The Flyers parlayed their impressive performance in Russia into three more wins in Czechoslovakia, finishing with a 3-1-1 record there. The whole trip was deemed a resounding success by the Flyers, their families, the Canadian media, and somewhat surprisingly, by the Europeans themselves. The Flyers had not gone undefeated in Russia nor Czechoslovakia, so the Europeans avoided embarrassment in their own countries. In addition, the off the ice relationship between the Canadians and specifically the Russians continued to grow. Aside from the occasional mind games, no Canadian had a single complaint about their time in Russia. The Canadians as a group felt a lot better about the country after the trip, than they did before it.
The Don Mills Flyers left Europe that year as arguably the best 17-under hockey team in the world. Fred's greatest thrill as a hockey player came when the team arrived back in Canada. He was told his jersey would be placed in the Hockey Hall of Fame for one year, along with other gifts and collectibles the team had brought back from Europe. It was an honour Fred would never, ever forget. "To have my jersey residing inside the same walls as some of the best players in the history of hockey was a spine-tingling experience for me, especially to have my teammates names there right beside mine." It was a team that was as good as the sum of its parts. A couple of players, including Larry Murphy and Paul Marshall would go on to have successful NHL careers, especially Murphy who now finds himself as a member of the Hockey Hall of Fame. As for Fred, he chose not to pursue a career in the NHL, partly because he didn't think he was good enough, but also because he wanted to go out on top. "You always hear of these athletes who don't retire at the right times. I had just won the Canadian midget championship, gone to Russia and Czechoslovakia and defeated the best teams there. If I would have made the NHL, I would have had to do a hell of a lot to top what I did as a 16-year old, so I decided to hang 'em up."
A lot has changed since Fred Rubinoff and the Don Mills Flyers went to take on the best the hockey world had to offer. Europe's Iron Curtain fell over twenty years ago, hockey is no longer dominated by Russians and Canadians alone, and the World Junior Championship is what dominates the headlines come Christmas time. But none of that matters to Fred because every time somebody asks him about what it was like to go to Russia, he starts off the story with..."well, I was scrunched up like an accordion on this Aeroflot flight..." and on he goes, and that's something nobody will ever be able to take away from him.
By: Jesse Rubinoff
The year is 1976. Sixteen-year old Fred Rubinoff is sitting in his seat on Aeroflot Airlines, scrunched up like an accordion, when he finally realizes the significance of the moment. As captain of the midget Don Mills Flyers, Fred is about to lead his team into a battle for hockey supremacy against two nations of relative unknowns; the Russians and the Czechoslovakians. Four years earlier, the Russian national team had taken Team Canada to an eighth and final game in the Summit Series, and just months before Fred's journey, Canada had narrowly defeated the Russians again to win the Canada Cup. Fred and his fellow teenage teammates would now be adding another chapter to an already storied hockey rivalry.
It's easy for Fred, now 51 years old, to recount his proudest moments as a hockey player. There is a strong sense of nostalgia, yet a greater sense of accomplishment when he discusses what it was like for his team to play hockey in Russia. But first, Fred makes it clear that the road to Russia cannot be mitigated. It was as big of a thrill, if not a bigger one to be crowned Canada's top team and earn the chance to venture into the great unknown. That year, the Don Mills Flyers had finished the Metro Toronto Hockey League now the Greater Toronto Hockey League season atop the standings. That got them into the Ontario Play-downs, where they steam-rolled teams from Kirkland Lake, Hamilton and Peterborough and earned the chance to play in the Canada-wide Wrigley tournament for a shot to go to Russia and Czechoslovakia.
The Wrigley tournament held significant water in 1976. The best teams from around the country came to do battle in Moncton, New Brunswick, all with the same goal in mind: win the tournament and then get the chance to do what their childhood heroes in the NHL had just done, play in Russia. The Flyers won four games en route to the final where they played against a speedy and skillful squad from Quebec. Nerves had never really been a concern for Fred. He loved the game of hockey and considered it a blessing to be able to play it at such a high level. But as Fred explains, the boys knew how much was on the line going into the finals, "We knew that if we won, we'd be going to Russia as the Canadian representatives. We wanted to be the team that exchanged the logo on the front of our jersey for the Canadian Maple Leaf. So yeah...I was nervous, I think we all were because we wanted to win." The Flyers put together a total team effort and disposed of Quebec's best 7-6, winning the Wrigley Tournament and becoming the latest edition of "Canada's team".
With the tournament victory came a lot of enhanced press coverage. Three major Toronto newspapers started covering the Flyers' every move. As captain of the team, Fred was lured to several speaking arrangements set up by the people at Wrigley. The Flyers started playing exhibition games against Canadian junior teams laden with 18, 19 and 20 year olds to get ready for the Russians and the Czechs. They kept winning. They knew they were good enough, and they wanted the real test. "The anticipation was brutal," says Fred. "We just wanted to go already. We had no idea what we were in for but that was the beauty of it, that was the excitement. Enough with the junior teams we thought, give us the Russians!" And finally, in early March, off they went on that Aeroflot plane, heading for the motherland with one goal in mind...win.
Fred didn't know much about Russia then, but then again nobody really did. As a 16-year old, Fred only knew that it was a communist country, and that the national team had put up quite a fight against the Canadians in the Summit Series. But looking back 35 years later, Fred vividly remembers his time walking around Moscow because there was a lot that was different than what he was used to back home. "The place was very grey, nobody really smiled. The people that were with us were nice, but I assumed those were the higher-ups in the society, because everyone else seemed cold and unmotivated." But the Flyers were treated well. They stayed in a first-class hotel, the food, while it was foreign and not necessarily agreeable with the North-American digestive system, was actually quite tasty. They had everything they wanted. The relationship between the Canadians and the Russians seemed to be blossoming. That is until the Flyers stepped onto the ice.
The Russians had been known to use some questionable tactics on the ice and it didn't take long for Fred to become acquainted with what was in store for the rest of the tournament. Early in the first game, Fred went into the corner to battle for a loose puck, and in came a big, burly Russian chasing after him. Fred got there first, and the Russian player jabbed his stick straight into the back of Fred's right leg. Fred finished the rest of the shift and skated back to the bench. He was in excruciating agony, hesitant to look down at his leg. When he finally brought himself to do it, Fred saw a shard of wood from the Russian's stick lodged in the back of his leg. While he was eventually okay, the spear served notice to the rest of his team that the Russians were going to use any means necessary to come away with victory. Unfortunately for the Russians, their tactics of dirty play weren't good enough in the first game as the Flyers walked away 4-2 victors. The Flyers tied the second game 4-4, and then were slated to square off against the Junior Red Army team, a team of supposed future Russian stars. It was before the game against the Junior Red Army squad where the questionable on-ice tactics of the Russians suddenly turned into questionable off-ice tactics as well.
Before the game against the Red Army, the Russians painted the dressing room that the Flyers had used in previous games, forcing the Flyers to another change room that was about a five minute walk from the ice surface. The entire team's sticks disappeared before magically showing up about five minutes before puck drop. "You never knew if the games that were being played were on purpose or not. So it was really important to not worry about that part of it, and to just go with the flow and concentrate on winning the hockey games," Fred explains. And that's exactly what the Flyers did, disposing of the Junior Red Army team by a score of 5-3.
The fourth team the Flyers were to play against was supposed to be the weakest of the bunch. However, when Fred stepped onto the ice for warmups, and looked across the rink, he had a feeling that wasn't going to be the case. "I recognized some of the players from previous games. We all kind of looked at each other and thought, holy crap, they put together a team of all-stars so that we wouldn't go home undefeated. Whether or not we were correct in assuming their motives, that's what it seemed like for sure." To the Flyers credit, they rose to the occasion and were minutes away from leaving Russia 3-0-1 when a huge brawl erupted in front of the Russians net. The Flyers played the remainder of the game two men down, eventually losing 6-5. "It was a ridiculous ending but we knew in our heart of hearts that we were better than their group of all-stars, and that made us feel pretty good about our accomplishments in Russia."
The Flyers parlayed their impressive performance in Russia into three more wins in Czechoslovakia, finishing with a 3-1-1 record there. The whole trip was deemed a resounding success by the Flyers, their families, the Canadian media, and somewhat surprisingly, by the Europeans themselves. The Flyers had not gone undefeated in Russia nor Czechoslovakia, so the Europeans avoided embarrassment in their own countries. In addition, the off the ice relationship between the Canadians and specifically the Russians continued to grow. Aside from the occasional mind games, no Canadian had a single complaint about their time in Russia. The Canadians as a group felt a lot better about the country after the trip, than they did before it.
The Don Mills Flyers left Europe that year as arguably the best 17-under hockey team in the world. Fred's greatest thrill as a hockey player came when the team arrived back in Canada. He was told his jersey would be placed in the Hockey Hall of Fame for one year, along with other gifts and collectibles the team had brought back from Europe. It was an honour Fred would never, ever forget. "To have my jersey residing inside the same walls as some of the best players in the history of hockey was a spine-tingling experience for me, especially to have my teammates names there right beside mine." It was a team that was as good as the sum of its parts. A couple of players, including Larry Murphy and Paul Marshall would go on to have successful NHL careers, especially Murphy who now finds himself as a member of the Hockey Hall of Fame. As for Fred, he chose not to pursue a career in the NHL, partly because he didn't think he was good enough, but also because he wanted to go out on top. "You always hear of these athletes who don't retire at the right times. I had just won the Canadian midget championship, gone to Russia and Czechoslovakia and defeated the best teams there. If I would have made the NHL, I would have had to do a hell of a lot to top what I did as a 16-year old, so I decided to hang 'em up."
A lot has changed since Fred Rubinoff and the Don Mills Flyers went to take on the best the hockey world had to offer. Europe's Iron Curtain fell over twenty years ago, hockey is no longer dominated by Russians and Canadians alone, and the World Junior Championship is what dominates the headlines come Christmas time. But none of that matters to Fred because every time somebody asks him about what it was like to go to Russia, he starts off the story with..."well, I was scrunched up like an accordion on this Aeroflot flight..." and on he goes, and that's something nobody will ever be able to take away from him.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Intricacies of Making Your NCAA Picks
People ask me why I take the time to organize an NCAA tournament pool every year; one that, at this point, over 145 people have joined for two years in a row. Here's what I tell them: "Firstly, it is without question March Madness is the most exciting time of the year. If you don't believe that, you are lying to yourself. Secondly, it gives me the opportunity to keep in touch with old friends, who have to find a way to forward me the money before the tournament starts. Every single conversation I have had with an old friend goes something like this:
Old Friend: "Long time man."
Me: "Yeah, how are things?"
Old Friend: "Good…So, who you liking in the tourney this year?"
Me: "Notre Dame or Duke" This is a complete farce. I don't think either of these teams is going to win the tournament. However, people seem to think I know what I'm talking about because I've been running a pool for four years. So, I knowingly steer them in what I believe to be the wrong direction. This is not bush league. It's more like gamesmanship.
In a tourney pool such as this, you must use every means available to you to gain a leg up on your competition. Not even the Oracle from the Matrix could foresee the results of an NCAA Tournament. But with that said, it is not a complete crapshoot. There are some crucial guidelines that you must utilize in order to keep yourself in the running up until the final weekend. Here is my list of things to keep in mind before etching your bracket in stone:
1. Avoid the aura surrounding top seeds.
In four straight years, a number one seed has cut down the nets in early April. If you choose a number one seed to win, you have a decent shot at winning your pool. But upon further examination, save for 2008, number one seeds haven't had such an easy road to the Final Four. Last year, Duke was the only number one seed to make it. In 2006, not a single number one seed got there. In 2004, Duke was the only number one seed to make it again.
Choosing a number one seed to win the tournament is safe. It's easy. It's like saying Halle Berry looked the best on Oscars night. But looking back days later, after you really think about it, Mila Kunis looked much better. Hence, be weary of the up and comers.
2. Don't fall in love with the overhyped underdogs.
"Who will be this year's Gonzaga?" Who cares. These are all good teams. That is why they made it to the tournament. Stop falling in love with underdogs.
Example 1: Think Ivan Drago v. Rocky Balboa in Rocky IV. Let's face it. The big Russian never really had a chance. His strength was impressive, but he was too overhyped. All he did pre-Rocky fight was kill Apollo Creed, who has washed up anyway. Drago was the real underdog. And underdogs will make you look like a genius during the game (he pummelled Rocky in the first few rounds), but when they inevitably lose, you just look silly for choosing them to win in the first place. (my theory is that the Russian crowd started cheering for Rocky because they didn't want to look stupid cheering for the overhyped Drago).
Example 2: Jamaican Bobsled Team. The true underdog. An incredibly valiant effort at the 1988 Calgary Olympics, but there was never any chance they were going to win a medal. But it was "cool" to like them. It was exciting. Think about the commentators in Cool Runnings flipping out at how good the Jamaicans were and how they were right in contention. What happened on the third day? They flipped their sled. Point, exactly.
3. Don't put too much stock in Yahoo's 'user picks'.
Everyone looks at user picks. It makes you feel more comfortable choosing a winner, knowing that if you're wrong, 67% of the people were wrong also. It's like getting onto an airplane when they first call for you to board. Everyone is doing it, so why not? But in reality, the smart move is to wait until the final boarding call. That way you won't have to wait in the freakin' tunnel for 20 minutes waiting for grandma and grandpa to load their bags in the overhead compartments. Be innovative. Go against the grain. Don't be a follower.
4. Choosing seeds 1-5 to make it to the Final Four is defensible. Anything after the fifth seed, you look like you got your girlfriend to choose which colour jerseys she likes better. Don't do it. It's not cool.
5. Don't pick the number 15 seed to upset the number 2 seed.
I was actually discussing this possibility with my good, good pal Josh Howard. I wanted to go out on a limb and pick number 2 San Diego State to be ousted in the first round. Josh responded with: "If you're banking on a 15 seed upsetting a 2, you're probably the same guy who thinks Donald Trump is going to win the next American Presidential Election. Yeah, they'd both be hilarious and a lot of people would end up screwed over, but both outcomes are about as unlikely as Justin Bieber growing facial hair in the next six months." Well played, Jho.
6. Don't boast to your friends that you love your bracket and this year is "your year".
Picking a bracket anticipating that you're going to win is like cheering for the Leafs/Raptors/Jays to win a championship. Every year you start with optimism. By the second weekend, you realize…"what the hell was I thinking?"
7. Be proud when it's all said and done. Especially...
If you pick two of the final four teams successfully, you've done well. Go buy yourself a nice steak dinner at the Keg.
If you chose three right, walk around with your head held high. For an entire year. And when your boys insult you for being weirdly cocky, remind them that you picked three of the four final four teams correctly. They'll know what's up.
And lastly, if you pick all four final four teams correctly, do the following:
a. Go buy a lottery ticket
b. More importantly, go out to the local bar/club on the Thursday/Friday/Saturday before the Final Four games. Your guy friends will all be congratulating you at the bar, fawning over you actually. This will make you 108% more likely to take home the girl of your dreams. She will see all of the attention you are getting and fall weak at the knees. Girls love the centre of attention. Fact.
BUT, if you picked all four number one seeds, and that's how it turns out (as it did in 2008), as Bill Simmons would say about Kareem-Abdul Jabbar, you're just a "ninny".
8. Bracket is NOT all about winning. Charlie Sheen was wrong. It's about having fun.
Good ol' Charlie was just fired from Two and a Half Men. He's about as broken as the ankles of Kemba Walker's latest victim. Hence, he's probably not the guy I'd want to be taking advice from.
Enjoy the tournament, old friends.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Mess that is the BCS
On the heels of last night's thrilling BCS National Championship Game between the Auburn Tigers and the Oregon Ducks, it would seem the BCS computers made the right choices, and pitted the two best teams in the country against one another. A 22-19 final with a 19-yard field goal to win the game as time expired would certainly suggest that. But lost amidst the excitement is the fact that another undefeated team, the Texas Christian University Horned Frogs, will go into the off-season without a chance to prove their worth as the best college team in the country. This is strikingly unfair and screams for a resolution to be made.
The TCU Horned Frogs finished the season 13-0 for the first time in school history, winning the Rose Bowl over the Wisconsin Badgers in the process. A nice feat for sure, but not the equivalent of winning a National Championship. The Horned Frogs can take solace in the fact that they are not the only team in the history of the BCS to get the National Championship Game snub. In 2004, Auburn, Boise State and Utah were left out of the title game after going undefeated during the regular season. In 2008, Utah was snubbed again after going undefeated, and even finishing with a better record than the eventual National Champions, the Florida Gators! In 2009, Alabama, Texas, Cincinnati, Boise State, and...you guessed it...TCU finished the regular season undefeated but were ignored in favour of more prominent schools, Alabama and Texas. After two consecutive years of being snubbed, TCU is facing the reality that it may never get a chance to participate in the National Championship Game.
Which begs the question...What is the purpose of having a team participate in Division 1-A football if they are not going to be rewarded with a chance to be crowned the best team in the country? There is not one facet of life where an individual, a group, or a team feels comfortable playing for second place. Competitive drive is a by-product of human nature, and TCU is being robbed of their competitive spirit year-in and year-out.
Not only does human nature suggest that TCU should be discouraged by their recent plight, but the BCS system may also affect the quality of their football program in the future. The talent that makes up a college football program comes from the recruitment of high school players. These high school players have criteria that they look for in a given school before making their decision. Some look for academics, some look for student life, but many football players look for prestige. The number of National Championships a school has won could go a long way in determining the quality and talent level of that school's recruiting class. For example, if a Texas kid is being heavily pursued by both the Texas Longhorns and the TCU Horned Frogs, but that kid knows that TCU is unlikely to ever get to the BCS National Championship Game, if that kid holds prestige in high-esteem, it's likely he would accept the invitation to play at the traditional, more prestigious school in Texas. Thus, the BCS system is curtailing both the present and future football potential of smaller, less traditional schools like TCU.
So what's the alternative? A traditional playoff system in which eight or 16 teams will do battle to determine the best team in the country. Of course, like with any fundamental change, there would be some negative consequences of switching to a playoff format. School administrators argue that long-standing traditional rivalries would suffer, more "playoff" games would create academic issues for the athletes, travel would likely be more difficult, and attendance might suffer. But it's ridiculous to assume that the bright minds at the NCAA wouldn't be able to work out the logistics so that a playoff system could work. After all, the credibility of college football programs are at stake. The reputations of schools are at stake. When football programs suffer, schools lose money. The BCS should not be about making tons of greenback for the big-time schools, by rewarding them with appearances in the BCS championship game every year. Sometimes it's okay to reward the little guy too. So lock the heads of the NCAA in a room and tell them not to come out until they've figured out a legitimate playoff system. Only problem is, after last night's title game, you might have trouble getting them into the room in the first place.
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