College Football: BCS not as bad as naysayers, have-nots insist

The woebegone bandits in this instance are the five conferences trapped outside the BCS's velvet rope. They want into the club, and they don't want to hear about pedigrees and dress codes. They're willing to get rough, if not with a holdup, then by hauling the bigwigs in front of Congress or into a courtroom.

The 54 non-BCS schools want to dance with the pretty girls, too, particularly the one who distributes as much as $100 million annually to her 63 favorite teams. They aren't satisfied with their $4.5 million annual tip for serving as patsies when BCS teams don't want to play each other.

The BCS folks aren't interested in wealth redistribution, insisting, instead, that they merely systematized the prevailing, historical reality of college football since World War II: There are elite schools and there are lightweights and they rarely switch places. And they aren't willing to find out otherwise.

Current BCS teams have won every national championship since World War II, except one (BYU's controversial title in 1984). In 20 seasons from 1978 to the formation of the system in 1998, 159 of the 160 slots in the Rose, Sugar, Fiesta and Orange bowls were filled by BCS teams, the lone exception being Louisville's 1990 Fiesta Bowl trip.

John L. Smith used to be Louisville's coach, where he routinely griped about the BCS. Now he's Michigan State's coach, and his tune has changed.

"Realistically, seeing both sides of the coin, the champions of those leagues don't have a chance," Smith said. "I don't see any reason to split the pie. Let's be realistic, there are maybe four teams in the country that have a chance to be the best."

After an acrimonious summer spent trading blows via press releases -- not to mention a hearing in front of the House judiciary committee concerning BCS antitrust liability -- the opposing parties sat down for a five-hour, clear-the-air meeting this week in Chicago.

Issues potentially on the table included a Division I-A football playoff, adding a fifth BCS bowl game, greater revenue sharing and a general overhaul of the BCS system.

And what revelations came out of the meeting of school presidents and NCAA President Myles Brand? Get ready for a lightning strike.

"We didn't come into this meeting trying to create news and I'm afraid you've got about as much news as you're going to get," Nebraska Chancellor Harvey Perlman said.

That being nothing, nada, zippo.

Of course, Perlman represents the stodgy powers-that-be. For revolutionary comments, we must turn to Tulane president Scott Cowan, the Che Guevara of the non-BCS revolt.

"It was an unbelievably constructive and positive meeting and I think in many ways probably exceeded all of our expectations about what might be accomplished today," said Cowan, gushing as though hanging out with the rich kids so thrilled him that he forgot the huddled masses in the WAC, Mountain West, Sun Belt, Conference USA and MAC.

Unfortunately, what was accomplished apparently was thoroughly summarized by Perlman: nothing. So there's no need to review the 5,000-word transcript of the media teleconference, a task as thrilling and enlightening as reading "Moby Dick" backward.

They will meet again in November, when perhaps Brand will again tell us that everyone got along swimmingly, or as he put it -- apparently paying tribute to Gertrude Stein -- "I believe that is good news and it is the news of this meeting."

Eventually the hot air will dissipate and there will be some minor changes, a tweaking for the next BCS contract for 2006. But don't expect the door to be flung open for the have-nots, mostly because their arguments appeal to the emotions rather than reality.

Non-BCS teams aren't shut out. Instead, the hoops they must jump through simply leave little margin for error. They have to finish in the Top Six to be guaranteed a berth in a BCS bowl. They qualify for consideration if they're in the Top 12. No non-BCS team has been ranked higher than No. 10 since 1998.

But whose fault is that?

Cowan's nostrils are flaring because Tulane was ignored by BCS bowls after going 12-0 in 1998. Go back and look at the Green Wave's schedule, which featured just three winning teams -- none of them ranked.

Two years ago, Fresno State started 6-0 and vaulted to No. 8 in the nation. The Bulldogs looked like a sure BCS team, and probably would have played Miami for the national title if they finished undefeated. But, after whipping BCS teams like Oregon State, Wisconsin and Colorado, they blew games against Boise State and Hawaii.

Colorado State and TCU were the only two non-BCS teams ranked this preseason. But the Rams opened with a loss to Colorado and probably won't play another ranked team, while TCU's toughest non-conference game is at Pac-10 bottom-feeder Arizona.

If you want the big ham bone, you've got to whip the big dog on the porch. That's how Florida State became a major player, traveling thousands of miles a year and taking on all comers.

The BCS is complicated and imperfect and easy to pick on. But it's worth remembering that, before 1992, the bowl system matched No. 1 vs. No. 2 only nine times in 45 years.

The BCS is counterattacking its naysayers in a wise way. It's using the final moments of last January's thrilling Fiesta Bowl between Miami and Ohio State in a "public service announcement" on ABC and for replay on member stadiums' big-screen video boards (it will debut during the telecast of the Illinois-UCLA game).

Think about this the next time you drub the BCS: The greatest game in the history of college football would never have happened without it.

That realization alone convinced me that, in lieu of a playoff, this is the best we can do.

P-I reporter Ted Miller can be reached at 206-448-8017 or tedmiller@seattlepi.com

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