BCS Bombshell



Article written by:Intern

Indianapolis, IN—As the champagne spewed like Old Faithful throughout the plastic covered office, the men in suits rejoiced. After all, they deserved it. For there are men of substantial intellect meandering about this great nation, but none sharper than the Korbel-soaked genius of the NCAA.
“We got it right! The BCS! It’s perfect!” shouted Rick Lundley, a BCS committee member since the 1998 inception.
Yes Rick, it is perfect. This is why we are all here in this surprisingly passé Indianapolis office, partying like…whoever won the World Series this year partied when they won. After Texas squeaked out a win versus Colorado last week, and USC nudged UCLA, the party began. Because for the first time in what seemed like eons, the convoluted recipe that dictates the futures and fortunes of college football finally got one right. Number 1 will play…(gasp) number 2!
“This is why you work so hard,” said Tim Bowman, V.P. of marketing for the NCAA. “Some days I was putting in nearly three or four hours of actual work. My friends would say Tim, you’re nuts. Tell them to create a playoff system and let’s go to the strip club. But I knew if we all worked hard enough, the system’s true colors would eventually shine.”
True colors indeed, or should I say color. With million dollar check-toting corporate sponsors lining up at the door, the green radiates from college football like the stench from the vomit off the side of Bob Huggins’s car.
“We’ve come under so much scrutiny this past decade for our formula.” Said exuberant committee member Steve Stein, “everywhere I go people ask me when there’s going to be a playoff? Why isn’t there a playoff? Why do computers decide who plays for the title? Well, for those people, I got your playoff right here!” he mocks as he makes a derogatory gesture not suitable for print.
Another man was running down the hallways wearing a headdress and patting his hand over his mouth while screaming. Truly in poor taste, 2% of the population would have been appalled.
The NCAA has indeed been the topic of intense criticism for their BCS formula, which takes into account a myriad of factors that designate a team a certain point value. Thanks to the throngs of cheap champagne, I was fortunate enough to go where no journalist had previously been allowed to venture (sorry Geraldo, looks like its back Afghanistan for you).
“Ok, I’m going to show you how this thing works, but if you tell anyone…they’ll kill me.” Said nervous but too intoxicated to realize it ‘tech-guy’ Jeremy. “Follow me, she’s down in the basement.” He said pointing me to the elevator.
I couldn’t believe my fortune. I was actually going to see the BCS herself; the smartest machine in the world capable of accurately forecasting the bowl season every year, a true technological marvel.
As the elevator doors opened, my wildest imagination couldn’t have prepared me for what I was walking into. There were televisions everywhere, wires, lights, computers…it was like walking into a fully stocked Best Buy, but without the evil.
“So, you wanna see her?” Jeremy asked, waving me over to a hidden corner of the room.
I anxiously followed, unable to contain the excitement of what I was about to see.
“Here she is,” he said, holding something high in his hands as if to offer it as meat for the football gods. “Look at her; she’s the smartest thing in the world.”
“But…Ok, is this a joke? That’s just a magic 8 ball, I had one when I was a kid.” I said with utter surprise.
“What did you say?” Jeremy quipped angrily, “Just a magic 8 Ball? This is the BCS, it decides who plays who, where they play, and which ABC affiliate the game will be on. How dare you call it just a magic 8 ball. See, watch this,” he said as he cradled the ball in his hands the way Pete Carroll holds Matt Leinart on cold autumn evenings. “BCS, does Oregon deserve to play in the Fiesta Bowl?”
“This is ridiculous, I kind of just want to go…”
“Wait, listen to her. ‘All signs point to No.’ See, she’s fair and balanced, like Fox News. Hang on, one more.” he said with childlike excitement. “BCS, should Randolph Morris be eligible to play for Kentucky again?”
Absurd as it was, I leaned in anxiously.
“Hmm, she says ‘try again later’. She’s been saying that a lot lately.”
Figures. Well, by that time it was either the anger, the disappointment, or the disbelief, but I had to get out of there. I had to get out of this office, and away from the NCAA.
As I made my way back upstairs, what I had just witnessed was starting to marinate. The BCS is a magic 8 ball, who knew? Something must be done to stop them; the NCAA commits enough sinful acts to pique the interest of Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman. The regime of mindless propaganda, disgusting political correctness, endless hypocrisy, and overall idiocy must be obstructed. It’s either that, or, so help me God, We’ll be forced to watch West Virginia and Georgia every year.

Loading comments...