Cupcakes and College Football
The backlash from the college football slate of games last week is loud, tumultuous, and on-going.
Ohio State beat Florida A&M 76-0.
Louisville beat Florida International 72-0 with a running clock in much of the second half.
Miami (FL) beat Savannah State 77-7 after shortening the 4th Quarter by 3 minutes.
Baylor beat Louisiana-Monroe 70-7.
Earlier this season, Georgia Tech beat Elon 70-0.
Oregon beat Nicholls State 66-3.
Arizona State beat Sacramento State 55-0.
Florida State beat Nevada 62-7.
Syracuse beat Wagner 54-0.
Cincinnati beat Northwestern State 66-9.
Each of the games listed above came against lower-tier competition, typically a result of Football Championship Subdivision (FCS) schools travelling to Football Bowl Subdivision (FBS) schools. The FCS has scored a couple of wins over FBS schools this year, but by and large the outcomes have greatly favored the FBS. The last week, in particular, really set the sporting world afire with anger and resentment over the outcomes. In four games last weekend, the FBS defeated the FCS by a combined score of 295-14. Savannah State has played four games, has a record of 1-3, and has been outscored 240-46. The losses came to FCS power Georgia Southern, Sun Belt conference member Troy, and ACC member Miami (FL).
In the vast majority of these blowout wins over what is referred to as a “cupcake,” the winning team usually has their starters out by halftime, if not earlier, and resorts mostly to running plays in an attempt to move the game-clock along faster. They’ll even go for it on fourth down with the intention of setting up the opposition with better field position instead of punting.
To the sports media, though, these balms salve no wounds. Especially with the four-team college football playoff coming to fruition next season, the idea of cupcake games appears to be on its last legs. But let’s step back and take a look at the bigger picture.
In the last two seasons, Savannah State has played Miami, Troy, Florida State, and Oklahoma State. It was understood the Savannah State was being brought in to pad the stats and provide an easy win. They’re not Appalachian State going to Michigan and upsetting a traditional powerhouse school. They’re young. It’s not like the players are not talented. But considering that Miami may have scouted one player on the SSU roster, it should tell you the disparity in the level of talent on the field. So why put yourself, your school, and your players through such a thing?
Well, for one, there is that Appalachian State victory over Michigan. Earlier this year, North Dakota State went into Manhattan and beat Kansas State. Then again, App State (at the time) and NDSU are among the strongest schools the FCS has to offer. Any player on the SSU roster would love an opportunity to pull an App State and upset a school from the “big boy” conferences. But they also know that App State’s victory was a confluence of events. NDSU’s win over KSU was the result of a Kansas State team that was in rebuild mode after their BCS run last year.
No, the key reason these smaller FCS schools agree to take on Miami, and Florida State, and Ohio State is simple…money. Savannah State reportedly has an athletic budget as small as $2 million. Their two games against Oklahoma State and Florida State last year garnered them nearly 40% of that annual budget. When you can schedule two drubbings and make that much of your budget, it is understandable why these games happen.
So what happens when the major market programs stop scheduling the FCS teams for the sake of better positioning in the playoffs? Teams like Savannah State, and Nicholls State, and Florida A&M, will suddenly be left out in the cold when it comes to athletic budgets. The “cupcake” game is almost what keeps some of these schools afloat athletically. Taking away that guaranteed money-maker will almost certainly ensure that some part of the school’s athletic program gets cut. Some would say that, in the world of collegiate athletics, it’s dog eat dog and if you can’t cut it, then you cut it out.
I disagree. These FCS schools know what they’re getting into by agreeing to play FBS teams. They know that, unless the perfect storm occurs, they’re going to get beat, and it’s going to be bad. They also know that taking a beating like that will guarantee their athletic department stays open for another year, or they can buy better equipment, or create better facilities. To borrow a phrase from military parlance, it is truly losing a battle to win the war.
The unfortunate outcome for the FBS team is that fans are far more unlikely to attend these games. After all, you are charging the same price for Miami vs Savannah State that you charge for Miami vs Florida State. With down attendance comes a completely different feel in the stadium. The fans that do show up are far less likely to be as excited against an FCS team as they would a conference foe. In some cases, the FBS team truly plays down to their competition, essentially taking the week off and looking ahead to an upcoming game. It’s a time for starters to play maybe a quarter or two, and then the second-, third- and fourth-string players get in on the action.
Removing the cupcake from the schedule changes all of that. Is it really so bad for an FBS team to schedule an FCS team? If you’re an FBS fan, then perhaps you agree. You don’t like blowouts of lesser competition. You don’t want to pay full price to see what is, in essence, a preseason game.
But if you are the FCS school, you recognize this game for what it is: a chance to enhance your program’s budget, to increase national exposure (under the “no such thing as bad publicity” adage), and to possibly pull an “App State.” I do think the “cupcake” game will vanish someday, probably in the next few years. Until it does, the FCS will wring every penny they can from the FBS, and gladly take the beatings that allow them to stay afloat.
Putting the “We” in Team
Lately I’ve been on a bit of a rant against ESPN, as they’ve gone from reporting on sports to promoting and sponsoring events, teams and players to the detriment of others participants. They single-handedly made Mark Sanchez a top five pick in the NFL draft a few years back. They began promoting Jeremy Lin as a possible first-ballot Hall-of-Famer in the NBA, simply because Lin had a good month for the Knicks. This year they pushed Yasiel Puig as the greatest baseball player in the game and a (should-be) All Star, over more consistent and established players like Freddie Freeman and Adrian Gonzalez, and Hunter Pence.
I say that to say this: I still listen to ESPN radio on my drives to and from work. This morning, on the Mike & Mike in the Morning show, Mike Golic and Mike Greenberg (hereafter referred to as Greenie) got into a verbal argument over the use of first person plural pronouns in conjunction with sports teams. Golic, a fan of the Cleveland Indians, said something to the effect of “Are we in?” referring to the Indians’ playoff hopes. Greenie immediately fired the first shot, stating that Golic, in the past, had continually made fun of him for referring to the New York Jets and himself as “we.” Greenie, being quite possibly the biggest Jets fan on Earth, constantly referred to the Jets as “we,” saying things like “We lost that game” or “We need a big win.” Golic would mock him mercilessly for such comments.
So today, Golic says “we” in regards to the Indians and Greenie has the chance to turn the tables. He does, but Golic fires back with a retort of his own. The key premise, or first bullet point, of Golic’s argument is this:
You can only say “we” or “us” in regards to a sports team if you played professionally yourself. If you did not play professionally, then you can only refer to your favorite team as “they;” you cannot include yourself in the discussion.
I don’t know that I have enough space on this blog to describe just how much I disagree with Golic on this. My favorite college team is obviously the Georgia Bulldogs. When it comes to the NFL, I’m a Falcons fan and a Steelers fan. Baseball? The Braves. NHL? Unsure, as the Thrashers are gone, but probably the Blackhawks. There’s also the Gwinnett Gladiators (ECHL hockey). For the majority of those teams, when discussing them, I say “we.”
“We” seemingly struggled against North Texas last week, so “we” have to get better before LSU comes to town Saturday.
I can’t believe “we” blew two leads and lost to the Dolphins.
If “we” don’t step up over this last week, “we’ll” lose home field advantage to St. Louis.
Ever since I really got into sports, I’ve always referred to the team in a third person plural manner. Most sports fans do the same. If you take Golic’s approach, then I’m not allowed to. There are even people out there who feel you cannot cheer for a team unless you played that sport or are from that city. Bye-bye Steelers and Blackhawks, I guess. No more cheering for the Dawgs, since I did not go to UGA. Some folks even go so far as to say people who refer to their favorite teams as “we” are retarded. These are usually the same people who think there are four quarters in a hockey game and don’t know the difference between a touchdown and a home run.
Frankly, that’s a very snobby and elitist way of looking at things. Why do people refer to their favorite teams in a third person plural manner? Because the team represents them. The fans, in essence, live vicariously, even for a moment, through their team. When Georgia wins, I’m usually in a better mood. When the Dawgs lose, my mood is a bit sour. I’m not saying that it completely changes who I am. I recognize that it is just a game. But for a brief moment, its glory that the team and the fans can share. Otherwise, no one would be allowed to be a fan at all, unless they played themselves.
I’ll continue to say “we” when talking about the Dawgs or the Falcons or the Braves. The geographic limiter does come into play. But not too much. For example, a few days ago I was in the grocery store, wearing a Steelers shirt, and the cashier and I had a conversation that went like this:
Cashier: ‘You guys are in for a long season”
Me: “Tell me about it. We can’t figure out how to run or pass, and we’re decimated by injury.”
Cashier: “I know, man. Hope it gets better for you.”
He understood the relationship a fan has with his or her team. He didn’t ask me if I played football. He didn’t ask me if I was from Pittsburgh. He simply knew that a fan of a team relates to that team.
We all know that. And we’re being snobs about it.
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