From Mayo to Cheez-It.  College football title fight remains southern fried

From Mayo to Cheez-It. College football title fight remains southern fried

Few things are more American than wanting to know who is No. 1. Foam fingers and top 10 lists testify to our need to know.

Systems and protocols have been devised to remove doubt, including the clumsy and often-adapted system used for college football, again by offering us either Alabama or Georgia.

It always seems to be Alabama or someone, often a neighbor, or part of the same regional cuisine where groats are constant. This redundancy is not necessarily good for variety or for college football per se, but until the rest of college football finds out how we can stop it, we are stuck with Luke, Bo and them.

Bless their hearts. You’ll all be back, listen.

It gets worse. What is loosely identified as the Southeastern Conference will soon be joined by Texas and Oklahoma. This will make 14 teams and will stretch geography like a mouth full of pulled pork, will be stacked higher than a plate full of fried catfish, will be harder than mule jerky.

OKAY. Enough to make fun of food and sentences. It’s serious. Alabama and Georgia have already done this just a few weeks ago, and Alabama won, of course.

College football is the buttermilk of the south (okay, just one more) and proud, mighty proud to be so.

After all, street parades and salon quarrels are never held about which school inflicts on the world with wiser brokers or loud-mouthed lawyers.

Measurements of value are made by how eagerly thick-necked children can punish each other. It is not a perfect system.

Georgia may have Atlanta, but Alabama has Nick Saban, stiff and competent, a coaching tradition in Tuscaloosa that goes back to and outside of Bear Bryant.

To meet again, each had to defeat a team from the north, the wrong team from Ohio (Cincinnati) and the right team from Michigan (Michigan). Also easy, with every team wondering in the wake, shouldn’t Clemson be here?

Playing an entire season of football only to end up where it left off is a kind of circular madness, like cable news, endlessly dressing the same story in different clothes.

This was not the idea when the College Football Playoff format was established to find the best college football team in the country, to end the sound arguments leading the sport from one season to the next.

It was assumed that a Notre Dame or a Southern Cal or, once, a Nebraska, the usual suspects, would remain usual, and only Ohio State managed to do so.

Hoping to find a Gonzaga or a Villanova, a Loyola, to verify and breathe new life into the competition that basketball does, college football instead ends up with the same lump of territorial tyrants year after year.

As a result of this redundancy, the bowl system – which was sworn to be a sacred part of college football – has managed to both wither and swell at the same time.

Bowl games should be rewards for a season of success, not life-defining or character-changing trials. The bigger the end of things gets, the less vital the beginning.

None of the 42 other approved bowl games were sold out. In fact, four of them were completely canceled, including the Wasabi Fenway Bowl, always the place to be in the winter.

When pedigree affairs like the Orange Bowl or Cotton become excuses to hold a New Year’s parade. Ratings have dropped, sponsorships last only as long as the marketing manager keeps his job.

The big game is isolated to emphasize, and sets it apart from the crooked world of the Duke’s Mayonnaise Bowl and Cheez-It Bowl, yet it adjoins the pro playoffs.

When college football kicks off the final game of the traditional bowls that have already expired for New Year’s Day, it devalues ​​everyone else. The bigger things get in the end, the less significant things are in the beginning.

What an unfortunate and disturbing circumstance this is. Gloom settles the loser of a national title game much heavier than the loser of the Tax Act Texas Bowl. The world is upside down when happiness is easier to find at the bottom than at the top.

Well, as long as Alabama is happy. Or Georgia. Things get weird when they are not.


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