Rutgers against Louisville has been a looooong time coming

I don’t normally venture into the realm of college football around these here parts. It’s not that I’m not a fan of the NCAA game – I am – it’s just that, well, I don’t really know what the heck I’m talking about. Now obviously, that’s never stopped me before when it comes to other sports, but at least I know enough about baseball, pro football and basketball to give the allusion that I have a clue (i.e., I know several of the players’ names). But college football is so all-encompassing that I can never seem to catch up. There are a million teams, from thousands of conferences, and all the games are played on Saturdays, when I’m usually partaking in the required husband-related duties that will free me up for a full Sunday of pro football. Not to mention – and I’m not ashamed to admit this – I don’t understand the BCS. It’s difficult to be a fan of a sport when you don’t know the rules, and when somebody wins a championship, you’re not exactly sure why. Plus, sometimes you’re not even sure which game was the championship. (See: 2003.)

To boot, I’ve never been a fan of a particular team. Being a die-hard fan of a college football team, I would imagine, gives one great insight into the sport itself. A fan of a team would know at least one conference inside-and-out, and would have strong, albeit possibly biased opinions. (That’s the one thing, by the way, that drives me crazy about college football – I don’t watch enough games to forge my own opinions. I have to listen to the so-called experts tell me what’s going on. Auburn is better than LSU? Steve Slaton is a Heisman candidate? Ummm..okay! Whatever you guys say. But, as we all know, experts are morons, with the possible exception of Kirk Herbstreit, who seems to kind of know what he’s doing. But I don’t even trust him.) I guess there are two main reasons why I never aligned with a team. For starters, I did not attend a college with a big-time football program. It wasn’t even really a small-time program, either. It was sort of a no-time football program. We did not have a football team. (My high school also didn’t have a football team, but swimming was huge, so it sort of evened out.) The big sport at my college was lacrosse, which is kind of like football, except without all the fun. (I mean, who needs Ohio State versus Michigan when you have Johns Hopkins versus Loyola?) The second reason I never became a fan of a college football team may seem strange, considering that I grew up right next door to one. Of course, that team was Rutgers, which goes a long way towards explaining why I was never swept up in the hoopla of hometown college football.

Let me first explain that I was not not a fan of Rutgers because they were traditionally horrible. That did not weigh into my decision in any way. In fact, there was no conscious decision. Rutgers was always kind of just…there. Sure, I attended a game or two each season, but I certainly never felt any kind of affinity for them. There was no aura about Rutgers, never an irresistible urge to fall in love with the hometown team. At least, not for me. They never seemed to capture the imagination of a young, impressionable sports fan. Maybe it was the utter lack of tradition. Maybe it was the players. (Ray Lucas is our Tony Rice.) And, although it wasn’t that they were just bad, maybe it was the fact that they were so comically inept. Maybe it was the fact that I never forgave the school for putting me on the waiting list when I was applying for colleges. (Bastards.) I don’t know. Whatever the case, I always wished the program the best, but never lived and died with every passing Saturday.

Lord knows I’m not the only one who has felt this way. The knock on Rutgers football has always been, how could a State University – especially within a state that breeds as many talented football players as New Jersey – be treated with such indifference within its actual quarters? This has always been the riddle. It’s even stranger for me personally. My entire family grew up in New Brunswick, and many of my family members attended Rutgers, played sports at Rutgers, and remain die-hard fans of the football program. Yet, this allegiance has never transferred over. In areas like the Deep South, you are born into a college football program, even if you live two hours from campus, and regardless of whether or not you attend that school. I grew up 10 minutes from the Rutgers campus, and each 2-9 season passed with nary a shrug of the shoulders.

Let’s put it this way - when I was in high school and college, my summer job was working in the mailroom at my uncle’s law firm in downtown New Brunswick. It was usually the case that several Rutgers’ football players would intern there in the summers as well. Their membership in the fraternity of Rutgers football afforded them little more than a passing glance. Imagine, however, getting in the elevator everyday at work and seeing Brady Quinn. Imagine bumping into Reggie Bush at the copy machine. Not quite the same affect for the Scarlet Knights.


Old Rutgers

The reason I mention all of this is because, as the Rutgers football team enjoys its most successful season in decades, I want to reiterate that I am not hopping on any bandwagons. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for them, and for all the people I know who have stuck with them along the way. I have to admit, I was skeptical as to the Greg Schiano turnaround plan dating back to the beginning of last season, when Rutgers ceremoniously blew its opening game to Illinois in vintage Rutgers fashion. (On second thought, “vintage Rutgers fashion” would have been losing 42-3, not blowing a big lead late. So…scratch that.) Since then it’s been a whole new football team. They even went to a bowl game last year, losing a shootout with Arizona State, 45-40. Before that game, the mere mention of Rutgers in a bowl game would have elicited more laughter than a Friday night at the Stress Factory, another New Brunswick institution. This year, the Scarlet Knights are undefeated at 8-0, and ranked No. 14 in the entire nation. This Thursday, they’ll be facing another undefeated team and Big East foe Louisville, the No. 4 ranked team in the country. It’s the biggest Rutgers’ football game since, pretty much…ever.

So, good for them.

From what I’ve observed so far this season (I actually have caught almost every RU game), Rutgers may not be as good as their record would indicate. They’ve played a fairly weak schedule, and their biggest win of the year so far was at Pitt, a team coached by the immortal Dave Wannstedt. Quarterback Mike Teel is good for at least a couple of turnovers a game, and has yet to prove he can carry the team on his shoulders. Then again, he hasn’t had to. This Rutgers team is led by the dominance of Ray Rice, a suffocating defense, the versatility of Brian Leonard, and the inspiring confidence of Schiano. Besides, the negatives with this team are nitpicking, because their biggest success has been the return investment for fans who have survived years of heartache and embarrassment.

Like my friend Matt and his dad, who have been season-ticket holders since before Matt and I were in high school. Like my uncle Dave and his parents, all Rutgers’ alums who virtually never miss a home game, and who followed the team all the way to South Florida this season. Like every longtime RU fan whose biggest thrill of the season, for years, was when Miami came to Piscataway and wiped the floor with the hometown team. What they receive in return is a chance to watch their beloved Scarlet Knights put a stronghold on the Big East Conference, and leapfrog their way towards even more respectability. What they receive in return is a matchup between two top-15 ranked teams, at Rutgers Stadium, something that never seemed remotely possible. What they receive in return is No. 4 Louisville at No. 14 Rutgers, on freakin’ ESPN2, with everything on the line.

Not quite Michigan and Ohio State, but it’s a start.

And it sure as hell beats Johns Hopkins and Loyola.

I’ll be watching. Maybe not with my heart in my throat, but definitely not with my head in my hands.


New Rutgers...sweet

Reggie Bush: The Trojans’ horse

He’s arguably the most exciting player that college football has witnessed since Rudy, and with slightly more talent. His USC team is on a one million game winning streak (an NCAA record) and well on their way to a third straight National Title. He has NFL scouts drooling all over themselves. He can leap tall buildings in a single bound. HE is Trojans’ running back Reggie Bush, and he’s agreed to sit down with me for an exclusive interview involving love, life, and if there’s time, football. For legal reasons, let it be known that this interview never happened.

Me: Hi Reggie! Thanks for stopping by. Did you have any trouble getting here? Sometimes Mapquest can be a pain in the you-know-what.

Reggie: Getting where? You’re at MY house.

Me: Ha ha! Yeah…you must mean that metaphorically. Ummm, it says here that you were named after two great American heroes – Reggie Jackson and George Bush, Sr. Is that true?

Reggie: What? No, that’s not true at all. I don’t know where you heard that. For one thing, you can’t just alter your last name so it’s the same as that of a former president. It’s just a coincidence that my last name is Bush. And I don’t even like baseball.

Me: Well, I’m glad we were able to squash a false rumor. Darn tabloids. Anyway, how does it feel to be part of a college football dynasty?

Reggie: It feels great, man. We’ve really created something special here at USC, and I hope we can continue this run with another title.

Me: Spoken like a true warrior. It seems like head coach Pete Carroll is fun to play for. And by that I mean, it seems as though he probably spends more time kissing your guys’ butts than worrying about things like stupid practice drills. Even when he yells, it’s usually words of encouragement, like, “Yeah! Go get ‘em!” and “You guys are the best!” Then he hugs everyone. Has he ever yelled at you in a negative manner?

Reggie: Yeah, once, when I was a freshman. He said something at practice, like, “Ronald! What are you DOING out there?!” And I was like “Ronald? Who the heck is that? I’m Reggie.” And he was like, “Reggie Bush? Oh crap, sorry about that.” Then he sent me home early so I could take a nap.

Me: He seems like a true enforcer. Most people feel as though you locked up the Heisman Trophy with your performance a few weeks ago against Fresno State. You had 513 all-purpose yards and two touchdowns. I’m not sure the Cleveland Browns have 513 yards and two touchdowns on the season. Do you think the NCAA is going to even bother inviting four other guys to the Heisman ceremony? They might as well just put a couch on the stage instead of five chairs, and you can just lounge out on the couch while people throw flower petals all over you, and the video monitor can play interviews of people saying how you’re not just a great football player, but a great person as well. It’ll be like the Reggie Bush Show!

Reggie: Ha ha! I appreciate that, but I don’t think I’ve “locked” anything up. There have been a lot of great performers in college football this season, including my own teammate – Matt Leinart. Brady Quinn has had a fabulous year at Notre Dame as well, and we all know what Vince Young has meant to that Texas team. I think there are several players just as deserving of the award as I am.

Me: Spoken like a true warrior. You mentioned Matt Leinart. I understand that he is a huuuuuuge celebrity in California, and can often be seen at various celebrity functions, like a Frankie Muniz engagement party, for example. Does this bother the team, that Leinart has achieved such status within the community, while the rest of you guys continue to live a life of virtual anonymity?

Reggie: Oh, not at all. I mean, we have a lot of fun with it. Like, this one time, Tara Reid left this rambling, drunken message on Matt’s voice mail, and we played it over and over again at a team meeting. It was hilarious. Hey – Matt’s a good-looking guy, and the quarterback of a great college football team. He deserves all the attention he gets. Plus, it’s not like the rest of us are no-names on the L.A. scene. People know who we are. I mean, you’re here talking to me now, right?

Me: Yeah, but that’s only because Leinart cancelled. Ha ha! Just kidding, Reggie. Sort of. Anyway, if you had your druthers – Jets, Texans or 49ers?

Reggie: Ya’ know, I haven’t even thought about it. We have unfinished business here at USC, and I’ll worry about my NFL prospects when the time comes.

Me: Are you saying that your lifelong dream of having a 53-year-old Vinny Testarverde handing off the ball to you for a 3-yard loss hasn’t crossed your mind even once?

Reggie: Nah, not at all. And I don’t run for losses.

Me: Spoken like a true warrior.

Reggie: Why do you keep saying that?

Me: I don’t know – it sounds cool. Well, you guys have one more big hurdle to climb – a National Championship Game against a tough Texas team. Is this going to be a good game, or reminiscent of last year’s drubbing of Oklahoma?

Reggie: No disrespect to Oklahoma, but Texas is a great team. We’re definitely going to have our hands full with them. It should be a great game, but obviously, I hope we come out on top.

Me: Are you saying that you expect Texas to actually show up for the game, instead of curling up into a little ball while you guys run all over them for 25 touchdowns, similar to Oklahoma’s game plan last year? I still want my money back for that game, and I didn’t even pay for it.

Reggie: No, that’s not what I implied at all. Let’s just say that I think Texas matches up with us very well.

Me: Yeah, whatever. Reggie, it seems as though there’s nothing you can’t do on the football field. Are you the greatest college football player of all time?

Reggie: That’s for the world to decide.

Me: Reggie, what would you say if I told you that I talked to the world, and they agree that you are, in fact, the greatest college player ever?

Reggie: I’d probably say that’s impossible. You talked to the whole world?

Me: Actually, just a few people at a bar by my house. But they said they had friends who thought the same thing.

Reggie: Well, that’s a start, I guess.

Me: One last question before we go. People have compared you to such greats as Gale Sayers, Barry Sanders, and Ladainian Tomlinson. Does that bother you? Because personally, I hate it when people compare me to Ernest Hemingway. I mean, I’m my own man, ya’ know? How do you feel about that?

Reggie: Well, it does kind of add some unwanted pressure, but I consider it a huge compliment when people compare me to such great players. Hopefully in time, I can prove them right, and maybe someday, people will be comparing some young college football player to Reggie Bush.

Me: Wow. I’m holding back tears right now. Happy tears. Listen Reggie, thanks for stopping by. I wish you the best of luck on Saturday night during the Heisman ceremony. It’s going to be a close one. Really close. Can you see me winking? Cause I’m winking.

Reggie: Yeah, I can see. And what are you throwing at me? Are those flower petals? Where did you get those?

Me: From the front yard. Why?

Reggie: My mom is going to kill you.

The BCS motto: If it’s broken, don’t fix it

About a year ago, as the college football bowl games were getting underway, Nike ran a great ad in Sports Illustrated. It was simply a grid, matching up two games between the four undefeated teams in college football that year, followed by a National Championship Game for the two winners. It was like the Final Four grid in a college basketball pool. Underneath it read, “Just do it.” It was a tremendous advertisement, not because the concept of a college football four-team playoff was Nike’s idea – we had all heard it before - but because seeing it in print made everyone realize the practicality of such an inherently simple, and feasible playoff system. Just do it. Well, nobody did it.

In fact, nobody has done anything to remedy the issues plaguing the current BCS format of college football, a system by which several computers collaborate with various FBI agents to determine whether or not Iowa State has the right to play in the Sealy Posturpedic Mattress Bowl. It’s utterly ridiculous. The BCS (“Bowl Championship Series,” or, for the layman, “Big Confusing Scam”) system can’t even get things right during the regular season, best evidenced by the fact that one month ago, then-9th ranked Notre Dame lost to then-1st ranked USC on the last play of the game, which inexplicably caused the Fighting Irish to plummet to 16th in the rankings the following week, when they should have moved UP in the standings. And let’s not forget about three weeks ago, when USC, a team that had been ranked No. 1 for the past eight years, beat Washington on the road by 27 points, but fell to No. 2 because Texas won at home. Huh? Apparently, the computers saw something they didn’t like.

But hey – I’m certainly not the first person to hop on my soapbox and complain about college football’s ludicrous postseason format. And THAT’S the problem. Have you ever talked to, listened to, seen on television, read in print, went to the supermarket with, or engaged in email banter with someone who is happy with the current BCS system? Anyone?! Me neither. It is common knowledge that the format stinks. In fact, the running joke among college football fans is that the BCS system is best described by removing the “C.” Yet nothing has changed. The entire nation is so sick of the ongoing controversy caused by the BCS, but the powers that be won’t change it.

This just doesn’t make sense to me. Remember when Ray Handley, for lack of a better word, “coached” the Giants, but then everyone realized that he was the worst coach of all time, so he got fired? Or how about the time Michael Jordan retired from basketball to play baseball, realized that he couldn’t play baseball very well, so then came back to the NBA? And let’s not forget about the time the Fox Network created a show starring Michael Rappaport, realized that they had created a show starring Michael Rappaport, and pulled it off the air? (Well, okay – the show hasn’t been pulled YET, but c’mon.) Are we not all familiar with the concept of “when something isn’t working, fix it?” Well, under the current BCS system, Ray Handley would be in the process of leading the Giants to their 12th consecutive 2-14 season, Michael Jordan would have ended his career batting .039 for the Chattanooga Chickadees of the Independent League, and Michael Rappaport would be President of the United States.

Of course, the people running college football, whoever they may be, are full of excuses as to why there are no alternatives to the BCS system. Their biggest point of contention to a playoff format is the fact that it’s not right to ask the teams involved to play so many more games when they only play 10 or 11 games during the course of the regular season. Apparently, they are under the impression that we are asking for a 64-team tournament similar to that of NCAA basketball, which will start in January and end in May, and which will feature first-round matchups like Montana Tech versus Texas. That is not what we’re asking for, obviously. A four-team playoff is all we ask.

A four-team playoff, by which only two teams would play one additional game. A four-team playoff that would infinitely decrease the possibility of an undefeated team getting shafted out of an opportunity to play for the National Championship. A four-team playoff that would captivate the entire college football-loving nation, and inadvertently increase revenue for the NCAA itself, plus the schools involved. A four-team playoff that would alter virtually nothing regarding separate bowl games, and would only serve to give us an undisputed college football champion, which is something the current BCS can never guarantee.

Sounds crazy, right?

The BCS is seriously flawed. It is adequate only when a season plays out with just two undefeated teams at the top of the standings, and when that happens, it doesn’t mean the system works. It means the system lucked out. And hey – if there ARE just two undefeated teams left at the end of the season ranked No.1 and 2 respectively, then we don’t need the four-team playoff. It’s that simple. In fact, the computers were probably giving each other high-fives this past weekend, after undefeated Virginia Tech laid a big egg against Miami, and undefeated UCLA fell to Arizona. This now leaves us three undefeated teams – USC, Texas, and Alabama – and Alabama still has two very tough games remaining (LSU and Auburn). The system may luck out in 2005. It may not. But why this problem still exists is beyond me.

If the rest of this season holds true to form, USC is going to play Texas for the National Championship, which will make all the sense in the world, unless you happen to be a fan of Alabama, who has yet to lose. If they don’t lose, computers will ultimately decide that ‘Bama isn’t good enough to play for it all. And for no reason whatsoever, the idea of a four-team playoff continues to fall on deaf ears.
What else is there to say?

Just do it.

And cancel that darn Michael Rappaport show while you’re at it.