Playing Through
Did UT's performance in the Fiesta Bowl prove them to be the No. 1 team in college football?
By Thomas Hackett, Fri., Jan. 9, 2009
Not that I'm complaining, but I'm not sure that winning, but only just barely, made things any easier.
By halftime of the Fiesta Bowl, with the Longhorns looking listless and confused, trailing Ohio State 6-3 in what was shaping up to be a dismal game all around, it seemed we could quietly forget any claim to having the best college football team in the country, sorry that we ever brought it up. The second half was a different story. Colt McCoy remembered that he was Colt McCoy, completing 41 of 59 passes of the night; Quan Cosby caught everything thrown his way; and then, with 16 seconds remaining and the ball on the 26-yard line, the two once again connected over the middle to give the Horns a 24-21 win.
Afterward, McCoy said, "I don't think there's anybody in the country who can beat us at this point," which seems a little conceited, considering the 10th-ranked team in the country very nearly did beat Texas.
I get his point, though. By all rights, Texas should be playing in the Bowl Championship Series National Championship game tonight, instead of Oklahoma. A first-grader could figure this one out. Both Texas and the Sooners finished the season with only one loss. The difference is, Oklahoma lost to Texas by 10 points, ergo Texas is the better team. But there are dark and mysterious forces at work in this country, my friends – say, a Supreme Court giving the presidency to a perfect nincompoop or an arcane and inane BCS system that denies Texas or USC or the undefeated University of Utah a shot at a national championship in favor of two teams (OU and Florida) with records that are no better.
Now some might say that Texas had its chance, on Nov. 1, in Lubbock, when all freshman safety Earl Thomas had to do was shove Texas Tech's Michael Crabtree out of bounds to win the game (a bit much to lay at the feet of a 19-year-old kid). They'll say that for all its imperfections and possibilities of unfairness, the BCS creates a regular season of do-or-die drama, unlike any other team sport, collegiate or professional.
Actually, I agree with all that. The one thing that college football has going for it over other team sports is that every game matters. The first game in August, against Podunk U, matters every bit as much as the last game in November, against your storied rival. A playoff system would deflate that regular-season drama. But there's no getting around it: From its inception in 1998, the BCS system has been a joke.
My solution? Ditch the BCS, but don't mess with a playoff, either. Leave the matter of a national champion up for endless, irresolvable discussion, the way it used to be. Life is full of ambiguities and seldom brings the clear resolution we'd like. Why should college football be any different? Anyway, virtue is its own reward.