Musings from Arledge: Don't do it, Big Ten
The following breaking news analysis does not express the views of On3, WeAreSC, or any responsible party, really. It is solely my own analysis. And despite what you may think, it was not written under the influence of any adult beverage or narcotic—only anger and disappointment.
Have you ever been at the store, walking past the “clearance” table—a big pile of junk that nobody has wanted for a very long time, all in disarray, disheveled piles having been picked at, some of it having even fallen onto the ground—and thought to yourself, “Hmm. I’m not sure I really want that, but it’s only 99 cents….”
That’s what the Big Ten presidents are doing right now as they look at Oregon on the Pac-12 clearance scrap heap. Not really our thing. We already passed once. But, I don’t know, for 99 cents….
The stuff on the clearance table is usually junk. Still, the Big Ten may just buy it. Who knows. I don’t spend a ton of time at garage sales, but I’ve seen enough to know that people will buy all kinds of crap when it’s really cheap. And, right now, sitting in a broken, has-been conference, sinking as everybody else looks to find a lifeboat, staring at a new “TV” deal with no actual TV and hardly any money, watching as the corner schools prepare to jump and reduce the Pac-9 to the Pac-6, Oregon is cheap. Dirt cheap.
So the Big Ten may be willing to shop in the bargain basement after all. And Oregon may even be worth it if you can pay a fraction of the money that goes to Rutgers, Maryland, Illinois, and Northwestern. That point’s debatable, but it’s not crazy. A good businessman might be tempted. So the Big Ten may just bring Oregon on as a partial member. It may even be profitable. I once saw a broken-down version of a one-hit wonder 80’s band at a county fair. It looked like they still managed to sell a few tickets. You can sometimes make some money off things that aren’t all that valuable in the marketplace. Maybe these Big Ten presidents are astute.
Of course, the broken-down 80’s band at least had a hit once. I’m too lazy to research it, but I’m not sure that Oregon ever has.
But don’t tell that to Dan Lanning. When asked for his response to Colorado leaving the Pac-12, Lanning strutted around like a peacock, feathers out for all the world to see, and proved that he really does belong at Oregon: “Not a big reaction. I’m trying to remember what they won to affect this conference. I don’t remember…. Do you remember them winning anything?”
Well, Dan, now that you mention it, I don’t remember Colorado winning anything to affect the conference. Not like you. You won the Holiday Bowl over a five-loss North Carolina team. And lost to Georgia 49-3. That surely moved the needle. The streaming-only Apple deal probably would have been for only 10 or 15 million per team, not 20, without that stunning show of force.
Of course, I also remember Colorado winning a national title once. A long time ago, sure. But they did. I saw it. And I don’t remember…. Do you remember Oregon winning one of those?
Dan did, as an assistant coach. Just like Steve Sarkisian did. Just like Charlie Weis won some Super Bowls as an assistant. Assistants who are cogs in powerful machines built by great head coaches often like to take credit for something that wasn’t theirs. Dan left … and Georgia won another title while Dan’s new defense gave up almost 30 points a game. The truth always comes out. Kirby Smart needs Lanning the same way Belichick needed Weis.
So, yes, Colorado hasn’t won anything. Dan is right about that. But here’s the thing about Oregon, which also hasn’t won anything, despite the millions that Uncle Phil has spent dressing up that pig. (Yes, it’s a prettier pig than it used to be, but it’s still good only for bacon.) Oregon crawled out of the swamp 20 years ago almost like it showed up on the scene from another dimension. Who are these guys? We’ve never seen them before. But Oregon wasn’t new; they’d been around forever. Yet it can seem like you’re new, I suppose, if you’ve never actually done anything in your many decades of play and nobody has any reason to remember you. Oregon moved from fourth rate to second rate when Daddy Warbucks bought them a new house and better clothes. There’s nothing wrong with that; but it doesn’t change what they are underneath the fancy new threads. That’s probably why Oregon coaches always leave as soon as they can find another job. Dan will, too—if he can win something bigger than the Holiday Bowl.
Oregon is what they’ve always been: a charity case for USC. Only the charity has all run out. USC used to give $100,000,000 a year in media value to the rest of the conference. Then it left, and the conference imploded like a black hole; its power source having been depleted immediately with USC’s departure, it just collapse into itself like an infinitely dense ball of nothingness. You know it’s there; you just can’t see it anymore. Certainly not on network television. The networks aren’t interested.
And since the day USC took its $100,000,000 of annual charity to the Midwest, Oregon has been begging to join the Big Ten too. And rightly so; you can’t expect a crew that has been living off of somebody else’s largesse for decades to be able to support themselves right away. That takes time, patience, training. Maybe even a little intellect. Good luck with that. Better to see if you can beg your way into another sugar-daddy relationship. Now it’s not just USC. Michigan, Penn State, and Ohio State can all help support your clothes habit. Join the Big Ten and get money for as many different game-day costumes as the slave labor in Nike’s overseas factories can invent.
This will allow Uncle Phil to save his money for what matters most: trying to get USC commits to make a terrible life decision and join Oregon instead by offering large bags of cash. Kids of 17 and 18 often aren’t all that hard to fool. Better education, better coaching, better future? Nah, just give me a couple hundred grand instead. That should last forever. I’ll be rich.
And there’s the rub. The Big Ten may feel they can make some money off Oregon. And maybe they can. They may even feel sorry for Oregon. Oregon is effectively homeless, and a kind heart might wish to provide shelter to somebody with no home. But Oregon isn’t little Orphan Annie, despite having the same number of national championships. It’s not cute and sweet and deserving of love. Oregon football is a pernicious weed sucking the nutrients out of whatever soil it’s planted in. It’s a marketing gimmick built on a sneaker slush fund. It’s holding onto its (second-rate) place in college football only by breaking NCAA rules to take recruits from better programs because it knows that the NCAA can’t do anything about it right now. Oregon is the homeless guy you let into the house only to find that he walked out overnight along with your silverware, TV, and a bottle of liquor.
The Big Ten should not be extending Oregon a lifeline. USC certainly should not be doing so. Helping Oregon now right when they’re on the verge of going away forever is absurd. It’s like the slasher film where they think the killer is dead but they don’t put in a second bullet. They just turn the other way, so happy to be alive, and the monster starts to get up behind them, unseen. It’s like when the professional wrestler drops his opponent, and instead of finishing the match, he climbs on the ropes, faces the crowd, and celebrates prematurely. It’s dumb. It’s embarrassing and it’s dumb. USC should know better. The Trojans know what Oregon is.
And where it is. Right now Oregon is on life support, sprawled out in the gutter boasting with alcohol breath about how much better it is than Colorado (which actually has a TV deal now) and how all of the conferences would be lucky to have the Ducks.
Don’t do it, Big Ten. I don’t care if it’s profitable. Some money’s not worth having. Don’t do business with Oregon football. If you want more money, earn it doing something better for society, something not as gross and embarrassing: try selling meth or promoting cock fights. Don’t go down this road. Don’t help Oregon football. The Ducks are dying. Help them do that.
Oh, I almost forgot: welcome Washington. We’re thrilled to have you.
