Tim Tebow’s Using A New Kind of Steriod

Tim Tebow believes in God, and I’m starting to think it’s unfair.

I mean, he really believes.  It’s not just a finger point to heaven after a touchdown, or a silent prayer on one knee.  It’s more than that.  It’s powerful.

And that’s the problem.

His unflinching faith creates an advantage.  It’s like a drug.  A super steroid. 

Tim Tebow is cheating.

While nerves rattle others in big spots, Tebow doesn’t feel the pressure.  Why would he?  He’s covered by the man upstairs.

Tebow has nothing to worry about.  Wins are guaranteed.  Dramatic success pre-ordained.

It’s brilliant.

And it should be illegal.

Real life, real game situations are unpredictable.  Nerve racking.  Interesting because we don’t know what’s going to happen.

But Tebow does know the future.  And it’s making grown men mad. 

Try as I might, I can’t believe like that.  Can’t free myself to work stress free.  Can’t let go.

And I’m not the only one.

So until everyone gets the missionary upbringing, homeschooling, and parents who communicate with God, Tebow's faith should be equalized. 

He needs a cross to bear, literally. 

Like extra weight on the horse of the lightest jockey, Tebow’s unyielding faith must be counterbalanced.  A 20 pound cross would do the trick.

Otherwise he’s unstoppable.

Banish Strength of Schedule

With a system as unfair and cartel-esque as the Bowl Championship Series, it’s easy to lose sight of its most insidious flaw.  It's a flaw so dangerous and unseemly that it actually masquerades as a good, a flaw guaranteed to stab 58 football teams in the back every year, and in all probability, a flaw actually designed to do only one thing:  keep mid-major upstarts out of the national title game. 

The Flaw?  Consideration of a team’s strength of schedule.

Sold to the public as the great equalizer, the strength of schedule’s most important effect is ignored like a dirty secret.  It keeps mid-major schools out of the national title game, and it does it with sinister beauty.

Maybe you think a chance at the national title is unimportant.  Maybe you agree with BCS proponents that say we need to save the BCS system in order to save the holiness of college football’s regular season.  Fine. 

But for anyone who believes that access to a national title is critical to the game’s integrity, and who wants a system that gives everyone a chance, consideration of strength of schedule is an impossible hurdle for all 58 teams who reside in non-automatic qualifier conferences, and many others in major conferences like the Big East and the ACC.

Brilliant in its viral design, strength of schedule rests upon the assumption that who one plays is a critical factor in determining whether they are “the best.”  But that’s untrue.

It can’t be.

Not with so few games in a season, few non-conference opportunities, and coaches from football powers generally unwilling to schedule solid mid-major opponents.  This is like Major League Baseball’s crowning of a “World Champion”— it sounds good, but everyone knows no other country gets to play in the World Series.  

Instead of leveling the playing field, strength of schedule is like a progressive tax on the middle class of college football.  It’s class warfare, and the rich get richer every year with big bowl payouts.

Let’s say this year’s Houston Cougars had risen to No. 1 in the polls.  Is there any question that the strength of schedule component so critical to the so called “computers” would have worked against it?  No.  And the same goes for Boise State, TCU, and the others whose mid-major pedigree serves as a noose around the neck of their national title aspirations.    

Boise State and TCU are celebrated as true BCS busters, but the fact is they busted the equivalent of strip-mall jewelry stores, not the Fort Knox-like National Title Game. 

Even Boise State’s enchanted Fiesta Bowl victory over Oklahoma was small potatoes compared to the national title game.  Moreover, in accepting BCS payoffs and adoration for those compelling but relatively small-market victories, those mid-major powers mostly blew their opportunities to say something real about the inequities of the system. 

The BCS propaganda sheet, also called its media guide, actually quotes Boise State’s Chris Peterson in its “They Said It” section saying the current system “has worked very well for Boise State." 

Well, sorry coach, but I’m not drinking that Kool-Aid.

Now I concede that strength of schedule can be marginally valuable in comparing schools in automatic qualifying conferences, and in that respect it is “fair.”  But at best that’s the second most important thing it does, way behind keeping about half of all teams out of the national title picture. 

If you think the chance for a national title should be every team's post-season centerpiece, then strength of schedule is more Trojan-horse computer virus than it is anti-virus software.

If you like consideration of a team’s strength of schedule, ask yourself this:  Would the current BCS system put last year’s Green Bay Packers into the BCS title game if you took the names off their jerseys and dressed them in, say, the blue and orange of Boise State? 

Not a chance. 

Even if the voters had the fortitude to vote the hypothetical Boise State Packers No. 1 — the BCS computers would ensure the team at most an invite to a lesser BCS game. 

It would matter little how good the team performed against lesser opponents.  As the real Boise State proved in past years, domination is hardly enough.

The truth is that only a playoff will allow fair access to the national title game and exponentially up the excitement of college football.  For now, however, let’s just get rid of any computer program that factors in strength of schedule.  It renders too many teams ineligible for the title game, and that’s bad for any sport. 

Besides, if you’re a mid-major rendered ineligible by the BCS’s strength of schedule component, exactly why are you playing?  And what are you playing for?

This is How You Bust the BCS

Attention Oklahoma State, Boise State, and other schools past, present and future who want to bust the BCS.  You don't bust a system by working with it.  You bust a system by giving it the finger.  Here is how it is done:

It Takes Balls to Reject a BCS Bid

By Bob Firpo

Imagine this headline: 'Boise St. and TCU Reject BCS Bids; Will Face Off For Shot at AP National Title'

Crazy? Maybe. But it might be the only way either school will sniff a title shot under the suppress-the-rest system set up by the major conferences. So I say, give us this game, the first true BCS buster of the BCS era.

I know what you’re thinking, “No! Boise State and TCU should play BCS schools so that they can prove how good they are to the non-believers!”  That was my first reaction too, and it was certainly my feeling last year. But considering the domination Boise State and TCU have shown this season, neither has anything to prove against the lesser competition they’re likely to face in a BCS bowl.

Accepting BCS hush money only reinforces its flawed system. If the BCS was designed to pit No. 1 v. No. 2, the strength of schedule component was designed to keep non-BCS teams out of that game. So the two undefeateds should resist the temptation and expectation to bow to the system’s grace in a year when fully 25 percent of the eight most deserving teams cannot qualify for the title.

They should instead bust the BCS by playing a made-for-TV game that could legitimately be billed as the “AP National Title Game.” Easily the biggest story of the bowl season, it’s the only other match-up aside from Oregon versus Auburn that could result in a National Champion, with the bonus being a BCS watered-down with undeserving teams. Perhaps best of all, a Boise State-TCU game would be a swinging sledgehammer to an unjust system that just might inevitably lead to the college football playoff that everyone but BCS puppet masters crave.

In short, perfection.

Of course, this only works if both Boise State and TCU are left out of the BCS Title Game, and then only if one of them is in the top two in the AP poll. But if those stars align, nowhere in college football is there a better strategy for ridding the world of the BCS, nor could anyone find a more compelling story-line. 

The BCS certainly won’t pit the two if the above scenario unfolds.  Boise St. and TCU are too good and highly ranked for the BCS to allow them to face-off, especially considering that those pesky and unaffiliated AP voters have loved both Boise St. and TCU longer than any other relevant Title-contender.  No, pitting Boise St. and TCU would create the possibility of a split AP/ Coaches National Title, and would therefore be deemed unacceptable by the unidentified leaders of the system.

If either or both Boise State and TCU secures and accepts a BCS invite, they'll play against weak ACC or Big East automatic qualifiers.  Unfortunately, that would mean any shot at the AP Title would be gone due to one of the BCS’s other crushing flaws — the automatic bids often go to relatively lowly conference champs.  A Boise St. or TCU victory in that scenario would be demeaned as another victory against relatively weak competition.  It’s an inside game after-all, and Boise St. and TCU are the consummate outsiders.

There would certainly be logistical headaches with a BCS-free TCU and Boise State matchup, and no doubt the big boys at the BCS and ESPN/ABC will fight it. But it's absolutely worth considering. Imagine getting the warm fuzzies watching Rece Davis and his “College Gameday” crew scrambling to make sense of it — the little guys refusing to be paid off, giving up millions for the chance to be recognized as a champion.

The publicity itself would turn this Outlaw Bowl into a bigger contest than the official BCS title game, with ESPN talking heads in essence being paid to undermine the BCS title game by the company that owns that game’s broadcasting rights — giving BCS haters a tasty swig of irony. And millions of American sports fans would be rooting for the undercard to upstage the main event. 

It’s far-fetched, and to be sure, it’s never easy fighting The Man. But an opportunity like this comes along rarely, so it must be seized with the kind of passion that only the oppressed can express. And while it may turn out bad for the little guys, the risk of lost cash cannot compare to a legitimate shot at a National Title. Not even close.

We know the current system has no possible way to account for incredible teams like the 2010 editions of Boise State and TCU, because the BCS’s strength of schedule component and voter bias against the smaller conferences won’t allow it.

So I say, let’s not beg for BCS bids this year, let’s bust it instead.

Bob Firpo is an attorney and freelance sports and outdoors writer.  He lives in Boise, Idaho.

Occupy Las Vegas Bowl

It’s Boise State’s own fault. Bob Kustra and Chris Petersen took the money and stayed polite. And now they got the shaft they deserved.   

The Broncos dug their own grave.

Fans are outraged by the BCS snub. Players disappointed. And others just resigned to reality.

Just don’t blame the BCS Bronco Nation. Blame your leadership. Blame Chris Petersen and Bob Kustra.

We all know the BCS smells. College football fans have been saying it for years. But Boise State chose to ignore the stench.

Instead of saying, “We don’t want to be garbage men even if it means a nice salary,” Boise State has embraced Dumpster diving. Boise State begs for BCS games, celebrates BCS appearances, and promotes the BCS more than most Automatic Qualifier conference schools. And their coffers are full because of it.

But if the BCS is the most unfair post season system in any sport, its small conference publicist is Boise State.

There are costs to shilling for the BCS. It means celebrating minor BCS victories instead of clamoring for a shot at national titles. It means exploring Big East membership instead of building a more sensible regional conference.

And now it means trying to sell Las Vegas. Trying to get fans excited about nothing. 

Shilling for the BCS now means taking the Fifth Amendment on those parts of the BCS that really are worth talking about. The unfair parts. The parts most of us actually care about.

Petersen’s comments yesterday, which came only after he was caught stabbing TCU in the back with his coaches’ poll vote, are too little, too late. 

The system didn’t embarrass Boise State, Petersen did.

Bob Kustra says he’s pleased with Las Vegas. Chris Petersen too. Both are now trying to convince Bronco Nation that fans owe it to Boise State to make the trip to Sin City. 

Insulting. 

It’s not fair to hit up the fans on this one. Not when Kustra and Petersen refused to bash the BCS for so long. Refused to say what every fan was thinking. Refused to fight.

Broncos on the field, Boise State is a helpless pony off of it. Even a Vandal has more guts.

Boise State had unique chances to actually take a stand on this matter. As the top non-Automatic Qualifier over the last ten years, it was Boise State who could have called out the system, pushed for change, and fought for the little guy.

But while the team was rising up on the field, Kustra and Petersen cowered off of it. Instead of leading, they were led. 

To blame the BCS now is a cop-out. Kustra sits on the BCS Presidential Oversight Committee, and Petersen is quoted in the BCS media-guide in support of the BCS. 

No wonder they’re so quiet, so out of touch.

I’m not saying that Kustra and Petersen relish their roles as BCS spokesmen. I’m sure it’s difficult. But it’s precisely in difficulty where each of us has an opportunity to do what is right. And like so many Average Joes out there, Kustra and Petersen took the easy road.

I expect more. We all should.