The purpose of the College Football Playoff selection committee is to sort through the unsortable — deciding between two teams of similar accomplishment.
This sport is a spectacular mess, of course, famously and belovedly so. The FBS level has 136 teams playing 12 regular-season games competing for one championship. The schedules are disparate, even within the current oversize “conferences.”
No one would design such a thing. Big schools. Small schools. State schools. Religious institutions. Even three military academies. From L.A. (Los Angeles) to L.A. (Lower Alabama). It’s glorious.
If a proper computer formula exists to figure out who should or shouldn’t be in a playoff, none has earned the trust of the sport. College football, after all, ain’t much for college.
So, it has a selection committee — 13 people who make the final, difficult, no-truly-correct-answer call. Their thanks comes from a barrage of hate courtesy of whomever they didn’t choose.
That there is controversy, hard feelings and anger doesn’t mean the system isn’t working.
It’s a sign that it is.
A sport that used to leave unbeaten teams out of the title game is now arguing about 10-2 and 9-3 clubs. A postseason that was once a collection of mostly meaningless exhibition bowl games designed as tourism campaigns is now anchored by a 12-team, 11-game free-for-all.
At least half a dozen teams must believe they can actually win the national title. Maybe more. Four playoff games will be staged on campuses, not at antiseptic NFL stadiums. The title will be settled on the field. This is the good stuff.
It’s why everyone needs to exhale for a moment.
Don’t let the pursuit of (unachievable) perfection get in the way of progress. This is always going to be an imperfect operation.
Would it be better if the ACC’s tiebreaker system didn’t malfunction and both Miami (as ACC champ) and Notre Dame (as an at-large selection) were in the field? Of course. But the presence of James Madison and some Fighting Irish disappointment shouldn’t cause anyone to take a wrecking ball to this entire enterprise.
College athletics is famous for knee-jerk decisions that it comes to regret. It too often makes policy via emotional swings and selfish reasoning without vision for the future.
Leagues get blown up (or expanded) for basic cable subscriptions (which are already dwindling). Legal cases are waged on the idea NIL will decrease competitive balance (Indiana is currently ranked No. 1). Congress is lobbied with hysterics that the sport needs “saving” (all while interest, revenue and television ratings rise).
The latest overreaction is to kill off this 2-year-old playoff for a bigger model that will supposedly be controversy-free (impossible) — one with 24 teams, at least, or with four automatic bids to certain conferences or who knows what else.
The committee is the punching bag. Subjectivity is the wedge issue. Conspiracies are everywhere. Emotions are running hot.
Look, there is one sure way for major programs to get into this thing: win your conference. If not, then you get into the knife fight that is the at-large selection process. Anything can happen. Criteria can shift. Decisions can seem unfair or arbitrary.
If, like Notre Dame, you find more overall value in independence, then this is your trade-off. It isn’t going to work as you wish every time.
Are there improvements and tweaks that can be made? Of course.
The committee should no longer release weekly rankings during the back half of the season. A single verdict should come out at the end. The current setup is good for content (including here at ESPN, which broadcasts the weekly rankings), but it undermines the credibility of the process. The week-to-week contradictions are maddening and, even worse, can box in the committee’s final decision.
Bloated leagues could return to divisions in an effort to create scheduling structure or find other ways to fix tiebreakers (ahem, ACC).
Two rounds of home games would increase the importance of seeding and bring more campuses and local communities into the fold. That would serve fans and families rather than bowl directors.
Conference championship weekend could even be eliminated altogether; if Alabama can get beaten soundly and not drop, then was it even a real game? (And yes, BYU, we see you.) That would move the playoff up a week and allow for the semifinals on New Year’s Day and a title game in early January rather than during the heart of the NFL postseason.
Of course, ending conference title games would require leaving money on the table, not to mention unwinding complicated media and hosting contracts, so it’s a heavy lift.
The minor tweaks are fine, though, as long as the regular season continues to matter. That has to be the North Star. This committee maintained that by valuing Miami’s Week 1 victory over Notre Dame. Yes, it should have made that determination weeks earlier, but it’s never too late to do the right thing.
A playoff that gets so big where results don’t matter very much or, as the Big Ten proposal would have, where Michigan and Iowa are still alive via play-in rounds forever alters how the sport is played.
Better to have one or two bitter 10-2 teams out there at the end.
Better to have cries and screams and a little bit of infuriation.
Better to have those 13 people in a meeting room making a decision.
Because in this wonderfully chaotic and disorganized sport, the selection committee, to channel some Winston Churchill, might indeed be the worst system ever, except for all the others.