There seems to be a measure of bemusement bordering on feigned outrage with the announcement that Boise State will use a public relations firm to enhance its chances of a BCS bowl invitation. I mean, how dare they cheapen the process by which the powerful reward themselves for being powerful, right?
Of course, it's silly for the university to do this because it is far nobler to do it on the field where the results cannot be disputed, and yet in the world of intercollegiate whoring, it is but a single chip in a supercomputer. It is also a bad use of money because the BCS system comes closer to mirroring the hive mind of the Borg, the Star Trek supervillain, than anything this side of ... well, the rest of the NCAA.
|
|
| Here comes the cavalry, in the form of a PR firm hired by the WAC to boost Boise State's profile. (US Presswire) |
You may notice that, Boise State aside, the cries of anger over the BCS have subsided this year. They will peak in about two weeks, but last year the drumbeat of outrage started much earlier and lasted longer. Point is, people are pretty well punched out on the BCS, the same way they would be beating a heavy bag filled with Jell-O. It always regains its shape, and you exhaust yourself without making even an indentation.
People have figured out that the BCS isn't going away. They have figured out that the powers who run college football have hired marketers and ad specialists and corporate-world wise guys to pencil this out 50 different ways, and they make more money doing it this way than a playoff system. If there was a different way, they'd have changed it, and until someone way smarter than a sportswriter, pundit or blogger can math it out for them differently, the system will remain, impervious to your slings and arrows and whining.
But more than that, people have figured out that even politicians (yes, you, Orrin Hatch, you grandstanding weasel, who was outraged when Utah was getting hosed but remains oddly quiescent now that TCU has blocked its hat) don't have the stamina to bust up the BCS ring, and that the only true force for good here, the fans, doesn't care enough to show its displeasure by refusing to attend games and change the equation.
In other words, the battle is over, and everyone agrees that the terms of surrender were harsh -- you promised to lose heart, and the BCS promised to continue not to give a damn. The BCS has won because nobody else has the enormous firmness of purpose required to bring it down, and faced with that basic reality, Boise did the only thing Boise can do -- jump into the silliness with both feet.
I mean, winning the Fiesta Bowl a couple of years ago in one of the greatest games in the history of the sport didn't do it. The postgame marriage proposal didn't do it. The blue turf didn't do it. Beating Oregon didn't do it. And since Idaho doesn't have the budget to help subsidize sending hookers, cars and clothing to every voter and computer maven in the system, the only thing left is to win the games and hope there's a clever ad writer out there.
Maybe one with Ian Johnson, his wife, Chrissy, and a baby saying, "Hey, we did this for you, remember?"
So why not an ad campaign? It won't work because the big football schools already have media people doing this stuff for free, but even an empty gesture is better than none at all. And it doesn't demean the process because there is nothing about the process that isn't demeaning anyway.
It's what Boise thinks it has to do, above and beyond beating Louisiana Tech on Friday night, and then Idaho and then Utah State and then Nevada.
And maybe if that's still not enough, they can try to get Chris Petersen into a slinky gown. You know, just in case there are voters who see coaching differently than the rest of us.
Ray Ratto is a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle.
