We're Being Bowled Over

College football teams are playing tonight for the "national championship," and this old football fan couldn't care less.

Back when I did care, the college season ended on New Years Day. There were a half dozen or fewer bowl games. The "majors" included the Rose, Cotton, Orange, and Sugar Bowls. This year, a record 41 post-season games cluttered up sports pages and TV. The debacle started Dec. 10 and ends tonight.

I should be contented with results so far. My Wisconsin Badgers scored a bowl win. However, television producers thought so little of their contest that it aired at 10:30 at night. I thought so little of the timing that I taped it and watched a day later. Local favorite Western Michigan also won a bowl encounter, the first one in its history. So much holiday activity was going on at the time, however, I neglected to watch the contest. Son Lee's Minnesota Gophers also were victorious in a bowl, but they only won five regular season games to qualify, an indication of the reduction in quality when 6 bowls become 41. Neither of us watched the UM game.

Time to put a stop to bowl expansion.

We are being subjected to football overkill, and it just may end up killing the sport. Plenty of empty seats were in evidence when cameras gave us a glimpse of the "crowds" at some of the games. We also are being subjected to some nonsensical rhetoric by those who profit from the bowls--the overpaid coaches and athletic directors.

In most cases, the schools aren't among the financial winners. Consider the Western Michigan situation. The Broncos played in Popeyes Bahamas Bowl in Christmas Eve. If that name sounds ridiculous, it seems a step up in class from last year's appearance in the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl.

According to the Kalamazoo Gazette, the Potato Bowl trip cost the school $913,542. It was rewarded with a payback of $475,000. This year, the Western athletic director didn't provide details, but claimed the loss would be less. One reason is the Bahamas Bowl doesn't require participants to bring their marching band, nor does it demand the school pay for a specific number of tickets in advance. Nevertheless, there will be a loss when all the numbers are in.

The athletic director shrugs that off with one of the most ridiculous comments being repeated in sports interviews. AD Kathy Beauregard said, "I don't look at it like a loss. I look at the fact that we're going to be on ESPN at noon on Dec. 24 worldwide. So, you're going to be able to watch Western Michigan University for three-and-a-half hours on primetime television across the world. That's invaluable promotion for our great university."

Kathy, that really is a load of pure horse manure.

Find me a promising student who decides to attend Western because the football team played in Popeyes Bahamas Bowl, and I'll show you a nitwit that won't last six weeks at any reputable college. The only students who attend colleges because of the football program are the football players, and perhaps those intending to try out for cheerleading.

I'm pretty sure MIT has no football team, but last I heard students were fighting to get in. Ditto, Cal Poly. The University of Chicago, after years as a national power in the sport, dropped major-conference football in 1939. Enrollment and financial backing from alumni declined slightly for a time, but then rebounded and Chicago went on to become one of the premiere universities in the U.S. When's the last time Yale or Harvard played football in a bowl? When's the last time those schools didn't have a huge list of students seeking to enroll?

Instead of preaching a lot of nonsense to us, athletic directors might better spend their time thinking of ways to rekindle interest in college football. Nationally, attendance dropped 1 percent last year, following a 4 percent decline the year before. I'm betting 2015 numbers also will show a decline. Too much of anything is not a good thing.

Next for Big Ten Football--The Big Twenty?

“How many teams are in the Big Ten now,” she asked?

I had to think a minute before answering: “Fourteen.”

That bit of numerical craziness somehow seems fitting. The relative sanity that once prevailed in college football is vanishing rapidly as the almighty dollar lures institution officials to forsake the last remnants of tradition and stop pretending they are sponsoring amateur teams primarily to benefit students.

But then, Big Ten conference membership often has been a bit bizarre. After starting with seven schools in 1896, the conference quickly grew to include ten midwestern universities and gain the name that became official years later. However, Michigan was kicked out in 1907 for violating rules. So the Big Ten had only nine functioning members until the Wolverines returned from exile in 1917.

The University of Chicago, a powerhouse throughout the early days of college football, was a charter member of the conference. But the Maroons’ gridiron program fell on hard times in the 1930s, and the school dropped football in 1939.

Robert Hutchings, the Chicago president, said years later in an interview for Sports Illustrated, “The university believed that it should devote itself to education, research and scholarship.” What a novel thought! An educational institution should focus on academics.

The Big Ten numbered nine for the next ten years. Several attempts to add Notre Dame failed, although the school was a national football power whose South Bend, Indiana, location was smack in the midsection of the Midwest. Rumors had it that the Irish wanted in, but several rival schools kept them out. Instead, Big Ten schools voted to actually become ten again in 1949 by adding Michigan State to their ranks.

Perhaps in a “tit for tat” action, the Notre Dame trustees said no in 1999 when Big Ten officials tried to negotiate a deal to add the Irish to the lineup.

The tensome held for a long time, but ultimately the administrators just couldn’t resist making sense into nonsense. In 1993 they added Penn State to the conference. That not only again disrupted the namesake math, but it stretched the definition of “Midwest” beyond reason. In a feeble bow to tradition, conference commanders voted to keep the Big Ten name, but alter the logo to include a semi-hidden “11” in their emblem.  The “little 11” logo lasted only until 2011, when Nebraska became the 12^th Big Ten member.

Ten that is eleven didn't last. Would The Big Something be appropriate? 

Conference officials didn’t bother to stick a little “12” into the logo. They knew bigger things lay ahead. Sure enough, next year the University of Maryland and Rutgers University will field Big Ten teams for the first time. Maryland’s location is self-evident, and the last time I looked Rutgers was in New Jersey, a midwestern state if there ever was one. But regional identity no longer is considered a virtue by the “Big Something.”

University of Wisconsin Athletic Director Barry Alvarez recently said, “We’ve come up with a thinking that we want to be national, we want to have to play at least two bowl games in Florida, we want to play in Texas, we want to play in the desert (Arizona) and we want to play in California. Also New York—so we can spread our brand nationally.”

Sounds more like a corporate marketing exec than an educational institution official, doesn’t he? Alvarez is not alone.

Michigan State AD Mark Hollis said, “This (adding Maryland and Rutgers) creates new opportunities to be where our alums and donors are.” His comments came in a discussion about entering more television markets. The Big Ten now has its own network. After the 2012 season, the conference paid each school $25.7 million  as its share of television loot, most of it earned by selling ads through its own network.

The expansion frenzy is far from over. In public statements, Michigan AD Dave Brandon has strongly hinted at more growth. That probably will mean going to 16 teams in two eight-team divisions. It’s looking more like a professional league alignment all the time.

Sorry sports fans. I can still work up a little rah-rah spirit at the prospect of a traditional Wisconsin-Minnesota game or a Michigan-Ohio State contest, but Rutgers vs. Nebraska leaves me cold. Count me out. I’ll concentrate on backing the Green Bay Packers. At least they don’t deny being professionals who want to rake in more dollars by promoting their “brand.” 

A Penn State Report Card

The sad story of allegations of child sexual abuse by a coach who had a 26-year career at football power Pennsylvania State University has brought forth a variety of comments on the educational institution and college athletics in general.  The players in the sordid drama deserve one of two grades—A or F—nothing else seems a good fit. 

Here’s the Geezer report card:

A—Mike McQueary, an assistant coach who as a graduate assistant  says he saw Coach Jerry Sandusky performing a sex act on a 10-year-old boy in the showers in a Penn State football building.  McQueary says he reported the incident to Joe Paterno, Sandusky’s boss, as he should have.

McQueary might have earned an A-plus had he called the cops himself back in 2002 when the incident occurred, but that would have been a lot to expect from one who was a low-level participant in the athletic program at the time and who had coaching aspirations. McQueary has been placed on indefinite leave with pay.  Penn State officials state he may have special legal status as a whistleblower.

F—Sandusky.  A grand jury indictment includes allegations that he sexually harassed or assaulted at least seven other minor boys over a 15-year period. Sandusky is free on bail after his arrest when the youth in the Penn State incident came forward recently and McQueary corroborated the story.

F—Head Coach Paterno. As an experienced administrator in charge of the program within which the alleged crime took place, Paterno should have ensured that police were notified.  Instead, the iconic head coach merely informed his immediate superior, Athletic Director Tim Curley, and a vice president, Gary Schultz, and did not follow up.

F—Curley and Schultz. They apparently did not advise Paterno to report the alleged crime, nor did they contact law enforcement authorities.  Both have been charged with failing to report the incident. Whether or not the 84-year-old Paterno will be similarly charged remains in doubt.

F—University President Graham Spanier. Investigations now under way probably will reveal whether he did or did not know of the incident.  Even if he did not, he deserves a failing grade for maintaining incredibly poor communications with his top assistants.

A—The Penn State Board of Trustees.  They promptly fired Coach Paterno and President Spanier, even though Paterno had offered to make this season his last after leading the football program for 46 years. Curley and Schultz earlier had removed themselves from the Penn State staff.

F—The Penn State students who demonstrated in favor of restoring Paterno to his coaching job.  More reprehensible are individual demonstrators who turned violent and significantly damaged property.  The latter should be arrested and expelled if they can be identified.  The remainder should, at the very least, be required to receive some special instruction on the relative values of greed (win at all costs) and integrity (do the right things).

A—The Penn State students who organized vigils as statements of sympathy for any boys who were victimized, and their families, and for all victims of sexual abuse.  They showed they understood and supported the values that Penn State long has proclaimed it teaches and practices.

F—A few commentators who implied or flatly stated that the incident unmasked widespread corruption in college sports.  The headlines accompanying these stories, and some of the sensational language in the tales, suggested that sexual abuse is rampant in university athletic programs, particularly football.

In more than five decades of closely following sports, including a few years as a sports editor, the Penn State affair is the only instance of sexual abuse of a minor by a coach that has come to my attention. Anyone who knows anything about sports writers knows that given even an inkling of such conduct, many of them would doggedly pursue the story. Child sexual abuse may be common in other institutions, including some well-publicized activities in religious organizations, but it most likely rarely has any association with college athletics.

A—The many critics who cast this incident as a classic case of greed versus integrity.  University officials should be the epitome of men and women who place honor and open and honest dealings above all else. They are among the ultimate role models in our society.  But too often, stadiums seating 80,000 to 100,000 fans and financial supporters and $100-million-dollar athletic budgets seem to be the motivating forces in these officials’ lives. 

At Penn State, a whole series of officials, going right to the top, appear to have participated in a cover up, and if they did so they endangered many children.  Obviously, all believed the straightforward action of reporting an alleged crime would somehow endanger the programs they so love.  Actually, doing the right thing probably would have enhanced the reputations of all concerned, except of course, for Sandusky. 

The bedrock issue in collegiate athletics, as it is today in the United States, is the power of the dollar in influencing decisions that should be made on the basis of ethical, not economic, factors.  Rewarding successful college football and basketball coaches (and athletic directors) with multi-million-dollar contracts is ridiculous.  University presidents could put a stop to the practice, but doing so would risk the wrath of enraged alums and might threaten their own bloated compensation packages.

Some like to draw a parallel between recruiting big-time football coaches and CEOs of major corporations.  “You have to pay top dollar to get a top performer,” that logic goes.  It may have some truth in the business world, but this tenet is ridiculous in the world of what is supposed to be amateur sport. 

It is difficult to find business execs with proven abilities to turn moribund enterprises around or to maintain other huge organizations at a highly profitable level.  It is not at all difficult to find football coaches who have come up through the high school and assistant coaching ranks with winning programs.  A whole lot of them are more than willing to head a major university program for a salary of a few hundred thousand dollars.  The trick should be to carefully examine the integrity of the candidates.  Those who pass that test might be worth a half million or so a year.  Six or seven million is outrageously unnecessary.

The Geezer often has laid the blame on college and university presidents for allowing greed to direct the athletic programs at their schools.  Perhaps the Penn State experience shows that position has been wrong.  The blame might be better placed on members of Boards of Trustees and Boards of Regents. They are where the buck stops, since presidents, unfortunately, are too often complicit in the abuses.

Come to think of it, the Penn State Board of Trustees deserves a bit more that an A for their resolute actions in the football program affair.  Let’s hear it for them:

Hip, Hip, Hooray. . . Siss Boom Bah . . . PENN STATE  TRUSTEES . . . Rah, Rah, Rah!  

Modesty, First Class


For about 20 years when we lived in Ogden, Utah, the Geezer regularly played golf on Saturday mornings at the Ben Lomond Golf Club with the “Local Legends.” The Legends were mostly U.S. Forest Service personnel and retirees, but there was some diversity in the membership.


For a time, Richard Jones, a professor at Weber State University, played in the group. Of course, he almost immediately became known as “Dr. J.” What else?


Dr. J. was a big man who appeared to be in excellent condition and could hit golf balls a long way. He soon was asked the obvious question, “Did you play football in college?”


“Yeah, I played for a couple of years at a small West Coast school,” the professor somewhat grudgingly admitted.


Dr. J. continued with a story about one of the toughest games he ever played in when Michigan State badly defeated his team. Spartan coach Duffy Daugherty went directly into the losing team’s locker room after the game and gave a little speech telling the dejected players they should be proud of they way they conducted themselves during the contest. Dr. J. said he had never forgotten that example of goodwill by an opponent and how he was positively affected by it.


What was the “small West Coast school” whose team lost that day with our friend at tackle?


Stanford.

Showing Your (?) Colors

Those with a sharp eye will recognize a Bucky Badger and University of Wisconsin “W” adorning son Lee’s apron pocket as he and fiancée Karen took a photo op break from preparing this year’s Thanksgiving dinner.

With Wisconsin on a football roll toward the Rose Bowl, the UW emblem was only fitting. What didn’t fit is that Lee is a University of Minnesota grad. I gave him the apron a few years back.

It was a retaliation gift. Lee had presented me with two Golden Gopher golf sweaters and a cap. The cap had a big Minnesota rhomboid emblem. I tried, not very successfully, to make the cap work to my advantage.

My golfing partners in Utah had no idea what the block “M” represented, and when they asked I informed them it stood for “Money,” and that’s what I intended to win during that day’s round. The theory was my brazen statement might rattle opponents and negatively affect their games. Of course, once they saw me play a few holes any edge I had acquired evaporated.

When Lee was a Minnesota student, Sandy and I would journey to the Twin Cities for U of M-UW football games. Lee visited Madison with us when the games were played there. He went one up in the family rivalry one year when he lulled me into trusting him to buy the Madison tickets. Our seats were right next to the Minnesota band. The proximity to the loud “Here’s to the U or M” guys had the desired effect of drowning out my feeble “U rah rahs” for Wisconsin.

Karen is a Purdue University grad. She’s not big on football rivalries, and thus takes a more adult approach by wearing an apron devoid of school colors. However, if she decides to pull some sort of sophomoric stunt on the geezer, she may qualify for her very own Bucky Badger apron, or perhaps a nice chef’s hat with a cardinal “W.”

Easily Identifiable

The University of Wisconsin colors are cardinal and white. Ohio State University’s colors are red and gray. Thus it was no surprise when announcers for Saturday’s nationally televised football game between the two rivals several times described the scene at Camp Randall Stadium in Madison as a “sea of red.”

Old fraternity pal Thor Thorsen was among the 81,000 spectators. He phoned fellow Sigma Nu Bob Hirsch just before the game started.

Thor said, "You won't have any trouble spotting me at the game if you're watching on TV. I'm wearing a red shirt."

Wofford? Woeful

In a contest Fox News described as a “laugher,” the Wisconsin Badgers eked out a 44-14 football win yesterday over the Wofford College Terriers. Shame, Wisconsin. Shame, Wofford.

Yes, I know Big Ten teams traditionally warm up with a couple of opening games against patsies. Yes, I know the patsies occasionally rise up and embarrass one of the biggies with an upset. But, Wofford?

It’s somewhat surprising the Terriers can field a team. The student body on the Spartanburg, South Carolina, campus numbers a whopping 1,400. Wisconsin only has some 40,000 bodies to select its semi-pro players from. It’s amazing a few Terriers didn’t get killed in the game at Madison. Certainly, at least some of the visiting student-athletes suffered psychological damage from the beating they took. That is not what collegiate football should be about.

Greed motivates both parties in this kind of horrendous scheduling. The overpaid Wisconsin athletic director and coach want an easy win to pad the season record. The goal is a post-season bowl invitation. That brings millions of extra dollars directly to the school, and indirectly to them. Their needier counterparts at Wofford take home a tidy visitor's share of the gate from a game before more than 70,000 at Camp Randall. The extra cash will run a big part of their athletic program this year.

When I was a student at Madison, it worked exactly that way every fall. Marquette, known as the Hilltoppers when I first attended a game in Milwaukee, visited Camp Randall for the season opener year after year. Wisconsin always won, Marquette always started the year with a good payday. The students had some fun. The Marquette crew offered up a disparaging song starting with “Marquette was on the hilltop when Wisconsin was a pup. . .” Badgers countered with their version of the Marquette fight song, which ended spelling the school’s name as “M-A-R-K-E-T.”

But comparing Marquette and Wofford is ridiculous. Marquette had nearly 10,000 students at the time; Wisconsin about 15,000. Marquette had a proud football tradition, including major bowl appearances in the past. Marquette played nationally known teams as part of its regular schedule. Marquette lost one of the openers at Wisconsin during my student days by a slender margin, and the Badgers had a very good team that year featuring all-America fullback Alan Ameche.

The kind of greed displayed by Wisconsin and Wofford in scheduling their game is just plain disgusting. The college and university administrators who sanction these sorts of travesties are the same men and women we trust to educate the future leaders of our nation. That is just plain frightening.