It was reported recently, by an organization called Oxfam, that the 85 richest people in the world control as much wealth as the 3.5 billion poorest. I'll put that a different way: There are roughly 7 billion people in the world, which means, even to a math idiot like me, that 3.5 billion people are roughly half the people on this Earth. Want more math? That's 1 out of 2 people. Look at the person next to you. One or the other of you is in that 3.5 billion group. The other of you, as a matter of housekeeping, isn't then, by default, part of that top 85, just FYI. Half, for math wizards like me is 50% of the people. 85 total people, for real math geniuses, is 0.000000012% of the people.
Now, I'm no chemistry major either, but I'm relatively sure you could consume 0.000000012% of mercury, arsenic, DDT or hemlock and continue to live. That's how small of a percentage that is. OK, now that the comparative math is established, here's the real issue:
Oxfam is a social activism organization-started in Oxford to address global famine, hence, Ox Fam. Poverty, as a result, is an obstacle the organization, obviously, sees as key to inhibiting its cause, thus the report.
But the report in and of itself isn't what is most startling. What is most startling is that there are people championing the numbers released in this report...for the 85 rich people. Yes, you read that right. In a recent interview, capitalist extraordinaire Kevin O'Leary, responded to the news issued by Oxfam as "fantastic."
<sound of crickets chirping>
Indeed, in much the same way that a driver 48 laps down in the Daytona 500 being passed by the race leader once more is motivated to drive even faster, O'Leary suggested that the remaining 6,999,999,915 of us in the bottom half of the world's wealth pool, would see this as motivating to "work hard" to get to the top with them.
<sound of crickets chirping>
This automatically jumped to the top of my "stupidest comment ever" list, replacing long-time champion, "I'm voting for Hitler. What's the worst that could happen?"
Where to begin? First, the suggestion that the volume of work one puts in equates directly to income is, at best, stupid and, at worst, insultingly condemning of 99.999999998% of the people on this planet. Included in the not-hard working, slovenly, lazy people at the bottom: cops, teachers, nurses, soldiers, construction workers, farmers and virtually everyone else that goes to work every day. In addition, to say the people included in that 85 got there through hard work alone is ridiculously laughable. Certainly there are plenty among those 85 who have created something and benefited from the popularity of said product, but there are loads of people within that 85-like the Walton heirs, Leonard Lauder, Charles Butt, Anne Cox Chambers and the Mars heirs-that got onto the list through the hard work associated with being born.
But who cares, really? I don't. I don't fancy a "redistribution of wealth," as O'Leary warned against as a measure to balance things out. But his idea of how to bring about greater balance in this equation is simply ridiculous and utterly stupid. Those people in the bottom half of wealth, which is all of us, in truth, can't get into that top half, become one of those 85 through hard work. Perhaps one or two or a dozen of us, two dozen, can invent something like Amazon.com or Google and get there that way, but surely not all of us. It's not practical.
Every journalist that works for Rupert Murdoch, say, and works infinitely hard will become a billionaire? Every Amazon procurement center employee, working as fantastically hard as you can imagine will be a billionaire? More importantly, what if they do? If there are 7 billion Warren Buffets in the world, what's the meaning of wealth? Your billion is worthless next to mine and everyone else's billion dollars.
That's not the point, which O'Leary seems to miss entirely. If a blind man was standing at the plate at AT&T Park, at night, with no moon, the lights off, facing the backstop instead of the mound and a blindfold around his eyes for good measure, swinging at a 99 mph pitch thrown by Stephen Strasburg-3,000 miles away in Washington DC-wouldn't swing and miss as badly as O'Leary did over the point of this report. I don't think most people begrudge the ultra wealthy their super billions. They do, however, find it problematic that as many as 1 out of 2 people in the world can't manage basic human needs-food, water, shelter. And certainly, wealthy or not, it's a problem worth the effort required to fix it. And it's a problem of significant magnitude, which is the point of the report, to demonstrate scale.
But getting back to Oxfam's original quest to help obliterate global famine: Those advocates need only find several grossly obese people and display them to those living in famine. These overly fat people will motivate the sickly and malnourished that there is food in the world and will encourage them to work hard to find some.
Man, solving world problems is fun!
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Monday, January 20, 2014
Stars in their eyes
So the match-up is set for the Super Bowl this year. The league's two top teams will go head to head in the big game in New York and it's certain to be another fun game. And why wouldn't it be? That's the peak of any sport, isn't it? Watching, waiting to see who is crowned the league's best-it's what we wait the whole season for.
But the NFL has already crowned some top performers. Did you know that? Officials are rated and ranked throughout the year by the league. That's why the refs have numbers on their backs. Did you know that? At any rate, the top officials at each position- referee, umpire, back judge and so on-are then given the chance to call games in the playoffs.
By the time the AFC and NFC championship games roll around, the league sends out it's absolute best teams of rules enforcers. And that's a pretty horrifying realization. Horrifying for two particular plays in the NFC championship game.
Let's throw out all of the things that could have been or might have been called but weren't. Never mind, for instance, that Craig Dahl is still looking for the jersey one of the Seahawks ripped off of him during Doug Baldwin's long kick return. Stuff like that happens all the time and isn't called.
Let's instead focus on two plays that were called. First, there's the "running into the kicker" call on a punt late in the third quarter. A defensive player from Seattle made contact with punter Andy Lee on Lee's plant leg (the one that doesn't kick the ball). The penalty is "roughing" the kicker for that infraction. And it's not a matter of interpretation or of severity. Seattle's Chris Maragos, the guilty party in this case, didn't hit Lee hard. But that's like saying someone was barely out of bounds. Did he hit his plant leg, yes or no? Obviously he did and obviously the officials saw it-hence, the "running into" flag. The only place Maragos could have hit Lee was in his plant leg, therefore, it should have been roughing the kicker and an automatic first down.
Does that mean the Niners would have driven and scored? No. But even if they hadn't moved the ball another inch and Lee connected on the very same punt (42 yards) Seattle would have had the ball around their own 25 rather than their own 40. Certainly San Francisco would have settled for that.
Another important call was the non-fumble near the goal line in the fourth quarter. The ruling in this case has been talked about for all of the wrong reasons. The fumble, which was clearly ripped away and possessed by NaVorro Bowman in a replay, was ruled to have been recovered by Seattle. The recovery is non-reviewable and cannot be challenged. At any rate, the Niners recovered a fumble on the very next play, so no harm no foul. That's the consensus among football analysts. But there is harm. And here's why: Bowman had possession of the ball while standing up. As he and Jermaine Kearse were hit from behind, he continued to possess the ball. He went to the ground and was still clearly in possession of the ball. A pileup obstructing the view of Bowman and the ball didn't happen until after he was on the ground.
So where's the harm, you ask? That this group of seven officials, elite, all star officials, couldn't see that. The problem isn't that the 49ers didn't get possession. The problem is these officials didn't see a blatantly obvious call. Bowman was in clear, unobstructed possession of the ball for maybe two seconds at worst and as many as four seconds at best and 14 elite, all star eyes didn't see it. Four seconds might not seem like much time, but it's enough for a reasonable fast baseball player (Angel Pagan, say) to run from home to first. For an elite NFL official, an unobstructed view of someone in possession of a ball for two seconds is a lifetime. If these highest of high caliber officials can't see the simplest of plays like that, what hope do they have on difficult plays? What hope still do non-all star officials have? Think about that for a moment, forgetting, of course, that there are two officials on the sidelines specifically looking to see where the ball is when it's near the goal line.
And if officials can't see things they are looking for, what is the point of having them on the field? Maybe it's to "let them play," as one color analyst said of Richard Sherman's especially physical brand of manhandling an opponents shoulder pads that we then call press coverage. Except, that's not the point of officials. The officials are there to enforce rules, not "let them play." Seems even the very best the NFL has to offer can't even do that to a satisfactory degree.
But the NFL has already crowned some top performers. Did you know that? Officials are rated and ranked throughout the year by the league. That's why the refs have numbers on their backs. Did you know that? At any rate, the top officials at each position- referee, umpire, back judge and so on-are then given the chance to call games in the playoffs.
By the time the AFC and NFC championship games roll around, the league sends out it's absolute best teams of rules enforcers. And that's a pretty horrifying realization. Horrifying for two particular plays in the NFC championship game.
Let's throw out all of the things that could have been or might have been called but weren't. Never mind, for instance, that Craig Dahl is still looking for the jersey one of the Seahawks ripped off of him during Doug Baldwin's long kick return. Stuff like that happens all the time and isn't called.
Let's instead focus on two plays that were called. First, there's the "running into the kicker" call on a punt late in the third quarter. A defensive player from Seattle made contact with punter Andy Lee on Lee's plant leg (the one that doesn't kick the ball). The penalty is "roughing" the kicker for that infraction. And it's not a matter of interpretation or of severity. Seattle's Chris Maragos, the guilty party in this case, didn't hit Lee hard. But that's like saying someone was barely out of bounds. Did he hit his plant leg, yes or no? Obviously he did and obviously the officials saw it-hence, the "running into" flag. The only place Maragos could have hit Lee was in his plant leg, therefore, it should have been roughing the kicker and an automatic first down.
Does that mean the Niners would have driven and scored? No. But even if they hadn't moved the ball another inch and Lee connected on the very same punt (42 yards) Seattle would have had the ball around their own 25 rather than their own 40. Certainly San Francisco would have settled for that.
Another important call was the non-fumble near the goal line in the fourth quarter. The ruling in this case has been talked about for all of the wrong reasons. The fumble, which was clearly ripped away and possessed by NaVorro Bowman in a replay, was ruled to have been recovered by Seattle. The recovery is non-reviewable and cannot be challenged. At any rate, the Niners recovered a fumble on the very next play, so no harm no foul. That's the consensus among football analysts. But there is harm. And here's why: Bowman had possession of the ball while standing up. As he and Jermaine Kearse were hit from behind, he continued to possess the ball. He went to the ground and was still clearly in possession of the ball. A pileup obstructing the view of Bowman and the ball didn't happen until after he was on the ground.
So where's the harm, you ask? That this group of seven officials, elite, all star officials, couldn't see that. The problem isn't that the 49ers didn't get possession. The problem is these officials didn't see a blatantly obvious call. Bowman was in clear, unobstructed possession of the ball for maybe two seconds at worst and as many as four seconds at best and 14 elite, all star eyes didn't see it. Four seconds might not seem like much time, but it's enough for a reasonable fast baseball player (Angel Pagan, say) to run from home to first. For an elite NFL official, an unobstructed view of someone in possession of a ball for two seconds is a lifetime. If these highest of high caliber officials can't see the simplest of plays like that, what hope do they have on difficult plays? What hope still do non-all star officials have? Think about that for a moment, forgetting, of course, that there are two officials on the sidelines specifically looking to see where the ball is when it's near the goal line.
And if officials can't see things they are looking for, what is the point of having them on the field? Maybe it's to "let them play," as one color analyst said of Richard Sherman's especially physical brand of manhandling an opponents shoulder pads that we then call press coverage. Except, that's not the point of officials. The officials are there to enforce rules, not "let them play." Seems even the very best the NFL has to offer can't even do that to a satisfactory degree.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Hall of Shame
The inductees for the MLB Hall of Fame were announced today and the news is grim. Sure, it's awesome that three worthy candidates–Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine and Frank Thomas–were inducted in the 2014 class. The grim news is, with this vote, baseball writers across this country with the capacity to cast a ballot for the Hall, have condemned the baseball Hall of Fame to be little more than a joke.
Once again, with the "PED Era" still looming overhead, players like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens were left out. Certainly that seems like a victory for some people. Winners never cheat and cheaters never win and all that sort of second grade garbage. I'll get to Bonds and Clemens shortly, but one other player left out of the Hall was Jack Morris. It was the final time Morris had an opportunity to be elected to the Hall and now he will forever be on the outside. Bonds and Clemens aside, this fact is really unfortunate and it's proof the Hall voters have no real criteria for their votes, no standard method of voting, no rhyme nor reason as to why they vote a certain way nor, most of all, no real idea what the Hall is about and why people should be voted in.
The general consensus among sports people is that players considered for inclusion in any Hall of Fame should be compared only to their contemporaries within the context of the era in which they played. Fair enough. So go to the 80s then, fill a pitching staff with the five best starters you can find. I defy you to not pick Jack Morris. I'll take him. My Jack Morris-included pitching staff will beat your non-Morris staff every single day. Not voting for Morris is simply an indication that those particular voters don't know what they're doing and, hence, shouldn't have a vote in the first place.
Now then, as to Bonds and Clemens, any Hall voter who didn't vote for either of these two should have their voting privileges revoked immediately. Yes, but the whole cheating thing. Right. Except the problem is nobody knows Clemens and Bonds used PEDs–they merely believe they did. See, knowing something involves evidence and as there is no evidence in either case, people can only assume Clemens and Bonds used something.
But, what about what Andy Pettitte said? He said Clemens used PEDs, yes I remember. I also remember that people only say stuff that actually happened. Oh. I mean, except for the whole concept of lying, half truths and "mis-remembering" things. Roger Clemens had 23 other teammates beside Pettitte, which says nothing of free agent signings, call ups for injured players, trades...so what are we talking about in a 5-6 year span? Maybe 40 different teammates? 50? More? Only one guy ever saw something? Only one guy was ever compelled to come forward–or...was it only one guy who was facing similar allegations who was trying to deflect some of the blame dumping down on him? Pettitte said this. That's meaningless, particularly given his circumstances. Twenty former Yankees players came forward and corroborated Pettitte's claims...now that's more tangible. Except...that never happened. Did it?
And what are you left with? Great pitchers Glavine and Maddux getting into the Hall while Clemens is left out? Glavine and Maddux are worthy, no doubt. They have six Cy Young Awards between them. Of course, they collectively still have one fewer than Clemens. Roger Clemens has won more Cy Young Awards than everybody besides...no, that's it. More than everybody. In fact, HOF pitchers Sandy Koufax, Bob Gibson and Jim Palmer only have one more Cy Young combined than Clemens has on his own. So there's the comparison among contemporaries: Maddux and Glavine are in with their six combined Cy Young Awards, Clemens is out with his seven.
The Cy Young Award is only one measure of a pitcher's quality of course, but when you consider the award is voted upon by many of the same people that cast Hall ballots, the decision to omit Clemens is even more ridiculous. They are the ones who decided Clemens was the best pitcher of his era and they are the same ones keeping him out of the Hall because they think he might have broken some rules. But let's never mind with these voters knowing what they are talking about. One voter, a respected baseball writer for ESPN, said of his vote for Maddux that he was "the only pitcher to ever win the Cy Young four years in a row." Amazing. Not the Cy Young streak–it's amazing this respected baseball writer would include that sentence in his summation without including the remainder of the sentence: "Except for Randy Johnson...who also did it." Of course, Johnson's streak of wins started an entire three seasons after Maddux's run ended, so it's an easy oversight.
And I realize my appeal to logic and reason is not a sensible stance to take. I'm willing, as a result, to grant you all of the "proof" you want to cite as to Barry Bonds using PEDs. Let's forget, of course, the "evidence" against Bonds would not hold up in court–oh wait, I forgot. It didn't hold up in court. That's because the court, as a finder of fact, determined there were no facts. Conjecture, it turns out, isn't proof. Hmm. Who knew?
But forget all that. I'll still grant you all the "proof" you want against Bonds. So throw all of his PED Era stats away. What is that? A third of his home runs? Take them all away and all you have is a guy who hit 400-plus home runs and stole more than 400 bases...and what kind of standard is that for inclusion in the Hall? If we consider the "PED Era" began in 2000 and throw out everything Bonds did after that–no 73 home runs, no home run record, none of that, what you're left with is a player who played in nine All Star games, was a Silver Slugger seven times and won three MVP awards (which is one more than Thomas) and had eight straight seasons with an OPS over 1.000. Thomas, in comparison, was an All Star five times and won the Silver Slugger four times (even including the PED Era one) and he had an OPS over 1.000 seven times which, again, includes stats from the PED Era, whereas Bonds' PED stats are omitted.
So compare contemporary players. Throw out all of Bonds' numbers in the PED Era and compare them to Thomas (PED Era numbers included) and then figure out what justification voters have for keeping Bonds out of the Hall. Oh. But isn't there something to be said about his adversarial relationship with media members, many of whom simply don't like Bonds? Indeed. But it's the Hall of Fame. If it were the Hall of People Who Were Great Players and Universally Liked, the membership would be pretty thin. Cal Ripken, Kirby Puckett, Tony Gwynn and Paul Molitor would be pretty lonely in there, wouldn't they Ty Cobb?
Once again, with the "PED Era" still looming overhead, players like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens were left out. Certainly that seems like a victory for some people. Winners never cheat and cheaters never win and all that sort of second grade garbage. I'll get to Bonds and Clemens shortly, but one other player left out of the Hall was Jack Morris. It was the final time Morris had an opportunity to be elected to the Hall and now he will forever be on the outside. Bonds and Clemens aside, this fact is really unfortunate and it's proof the Hall voters have no real criteria for their votes, no standard method of voting, no rhyme nor reason as to why they vote a certain way nor, most of all, no real idea what the Hall is about and why people should be voted in.
The general consensus among sports people is that players considered for inclusion in any Hall of Fame should be compared only to their contemporaries within the context of the era in which they played. Fair enough. So go to the 80s then, fill a pitching staff with the five best starters you can find. I defy you to not pick Jack Morris. I'll take him. My Jack Morris-included pitching staff will beat your non-Morris staff every single day. Not voting for Morris is simply an indication that those particular voters don't know what they're doing and, hence, shouldn't have a vote in the first place.
Now then, as to Bonds and Clemens, any Hall voter who didn't vote for either of these two should have their voting privileges revoked immediately. Yes, but the whole cheating thing. Right. Except the problem is nobody knows Clemens and Bonds used PEDs–they merely believe they did. See, knowing something involves evidence and as there is no evidence in either case, people can only assume Clemens and Bonds used something.
But, what about what Andy Pettitte said? He said Clemens used PEDs, yes I remember. I also remember that people only say stuff that actually happened. Oh. I mean, except for the whole concept of lying, half truths and "mis-remembering" things. Roger Clemens had 23 other teammates beside Pettitte, which says nothing of free agent signings, call ups for injured players, trades...so what are we talking about in a 5-6 year span? Maybe 40 different teammates? 50? More? Only one guy ever saw something? Only one guy was ever compelled to come forward–or...was it only one guy who was facing similar allegations who was trying to deflect some of the blame dumping down on him? Pettitte said this. That's meaningless, particularly given his circumstances. Twenty former Yankees players came forward and corroborated Pettitte's claims...now that's more tangible. Except...that never happened. Did it?
And what are you left with? Great pitchers Glavine and Maddux getting into the Hall while Clemens is left out? Glavine and Maddux are worthy, no doubt. They have six Cy Young Awards between them. Of course, they collectively still have one fewer than Clemens. Roger Clemens has won more Cy Young Awards than everybody besides...no, that's it. More than everybody. In fact, HOF pitchers Sandy Koufax, Bob Gibson and Jim Palmer only have one more Cy Young combined than Clemens has on his own. So there's the comparison among contemporaries: Maddux and Glavine are in with their six combined Cy Young Awards, Clemens is out with his seven.
The Cy Young Award is only one measure of a pitcher's quality of course, but when you consider the award is voted upon by many of the same people that cast Hall ballots, the decision to omit Clemens is even more ridiculous. They are the ones who decided Clemens was the best pitcher of his era and they are the same ones keeping him out of the Hall because they think he might have broken some rules. But let's never mind with these voters knowing what they are talking about. One voter, a respected baseball writer for ESPN, said of his vote for Maddux that he was "the only pitcher to ever win the Cy Young four years in a row." Amazing. Not the Cy Young streak–it's amazing this respected baseball writer would include that sentence in his summation without including the remainder of the sentence: "Except for Randy Johnson...who also did it." Of course, Johnson's streak of wins started an entire three seasons after Maddux's run ended, so it's an easy oversight.
And I realize my appeal to logic and reason is not a sensible stance to take. I'm willing, as a result, to grant you all of the "proof" you want to cite as to Barry Bonds using PEDs. Let's forget, of course, the "evidence" against Bonds would not hold up in court–oh wait, I forgot. It didn't hold up in court. That's because the court, as a finder of fact, determined there were no facts. Conjecture, it turns out, isn't proof. Hmm. Who knew?
But forget all that. I'll still grant you all the "proof" you want against Bonds. So throw all of his PED Era stats away. What is that? A third of his home runs? Take them all away and all you have is a guy who hit 400-plus home runs and stole more than 400 bases...and what kind of standard is that for inclusion in the Hall? If we consider the "PED Era" began in 2000 and throw out everything Bonds did after that–no 73 home runs, no home run record, none of that, what you're left with is a player who played in nine All Star games, was a Silver Slugger seven times and won three MVP awards (which is one more than Thomas) and had eight straight seasons with an OPS over 1.000. Thomas, in comparison, was an All Star five times and won the Silver Slugger four times (even including the PED Era one) and he had an OPS over 1.000 seven times which, again, includes stats from the PED Era, whereas Bonds' PED stats are omitted.
So compare contemporary players. Throw out all of Bonds' numbers in the PED Era and compare them to Thomas (PED Era numbers included) and then figure out what justification voters have for keeping Bonds out of the Hall. Oh. But isn't there something to be said about his adversarial relationship with media members, many of whom simply don't like Bonds? Indeed. But it's the Hall of Fame. If it were the Hall of People Who Were Great Players and Universally Liked, the membership would be pretty thin. Cal Ripken, Kirby Puckett, Tony Gwynn and Paul Molitor would be pretty lonely in there, wouldn't they Ty Cobb?
Thursday, January 2, 2014
SEC delusion
A large portion of my family lives in the middle of South Eastern Conference (SEC) football country. Besmirching the good name of the SEC to them is like spitting in the face of Jesus. There are few higher crimes. And why say anything negative? I mean, the SEC is the greatest football conference on Earth. The second NFL. That's what I like to call them.
That's the perception, isn't it? That the SEC is so great that we must avert our eyes, lest we be blinded by their radiant brilliance. But I don't buy it. And I know what the SEC people will say: look at the SEC's track record in recent championship games. Yes. Your conference has a good track record in championship games, but then again, when an SEC team is in the championship game every year, the odds are certainly better than the odds for other conferences. And this fact all boils down to the perception that the SEC is so much better than every other conference.
Sure, there's an argument to be made to that end, but much of that argument is based in what people think, not factual results. Why, for example, is Alabama ranked as highly as they are? Because they played well in their tough SEC schedule? Alabama played six teams that played in bowl games this year. So did Oregon. USC–the one from Los Angeles– played nine teams that played in bowl games. So sure, USC lost a few more games, but they probably wouldn't have had they played juggernauts like Georgia State and UT Chattanooga. Look at Georgia, as a comparison. While most SEC teams each year play powerhouse programs like Murray State and Arkansas State, Georgia played a similarly tough schedule to that of USC. And what happened? They had pretty much the same record as USC.
But what about bowl results? Teams have to play tough teams without much of a choice as to who. True. And the SEC has a good bowl record in recent years. However, they've also been in a better position to win. The BCS title game aside, in bowl games played where at least one of the teams was ranked, the SEC team was the higher ranked team in every bowl this season. Same was true last year and the year before that. So what does that mean then? A ranked team, LSU say, beats unranked Iowa. And that's a special accomplishment why? USC should beat Fresno State. They did. UCLA should be Virginia Tech. They did. Oregon should beat Texas. They did. But nobody is waving the flag, saying OMG, look how great the Pac 12 is. A ranked team beating an unranked team is nothing to jump up and down about–except for SEC fans.
And don't start on the BCS championships. Alabama reached the BCS championship in 2011 without playing in their conference championship game. The Tide was, at best, the third best team in their conference yet they were somehow one of the top two teams in the country? And that's not the worst of it. In 2003, Oklahoma went to the title game after losing their conference championship. So I don't want to here about the SEC's track record in a championship game that is based in ridiculous stupidity. Justify those two games, using logic and ration, and then I'll listen to your BCS track record argument.
Never mind, in all of this, that few SEC teams know where the Rocky Mountains are, let alone the Pacific time zone. When a MMA champion is interviewed in the octagon after a tough fight and is asked who he/she wants to fight next, they almost always say "whoever they want me to fight, I'll fight." Not the SEC. They say, "I'll fight anyone, anywhere...except, mainly I mean anyone projected to finish .500 or under or come from the FCS subdivision and only here in our stadium." Boy, what a mark of a champion. Don't think that's true? Look at BCS championship contender Auburn this year. Five of their first six games were at Jordan-Hare Stadium. The one road game? They had to go all the way to Louisiana to play LSU. Whoo-wee! A six hour drive! PS, they lost. They only had one other tough road game, which they won by 4. Their other two really tough games were at home...which they won in miraculous fashion. Gee. No wonder they're playing in the championship game with a track record like that. But they are the SEC champions...and that gets you an automatic bid into the BCS title game. Heck, sometimes just being from the SEC is good enough to get you in.
That's the perception, isn't it? That the SEC is so great that we must avert our eyes, lest we be blinded by their radiant brilliance. But I don't buy it. And I know what the SEC people will say: look at the SEC's track record in recent championship games. Yes. Your conference has a good track record in championship games, but then again, when an SEC team is in the championship game every year, the odds are certainly better than the odds for other conferences. And this fact all boils down to the perception that the SEC is so much better than every other conference.
Sure, there's an argument to be made to that end, but much of that argument is based in what people think, not factual results. Why, for example, is Alabama ranked as highly as they are? Because they played well in their tough SEC schedule? Alabama played six teams that played in bowl games this year. So did Oregon. USC–the one from Los Angeles– played nine teams that played in bowl games. So sure, USC lost a few more games, but they probably wouldn't have had they played juggernauts like Georgia State and UT Chattanooga. Look at Georgia, as a comparison. While most SEC teams each year play powerhouse programs like Murray State and Arkansas State, Georgia played a similarly tough schedule to that of USC. And what happened? They had pretty much the same record as USC.
But what about bowl results? Teams have to play tough teams without much of a choice as to who. True. And the SEC has a good bowl record in recent years. However, they've also been in a better position to win. The BCS title game aside, in bowl games played where at least one of the teams was ranked, the SEC team was the higher ranked team in every bowl this season. Same was true last year and the year before that. So what does that mean then? A ranked team, LSU say, beats unranked Iowa. And that's a special accomplishment why? USC should beat Fresno State. They did. UCLA should be Virginia Tech. They did. Oregon should beat Texas. They did. But nobody is waving the flag, saying OMG, look how great the Pac 12 is. A ranked team beating an unranked team is nothing to jump up and down about–except for SEC fans.
And don't start on the BCS championships. Alabama reached the BCS championship in 2011 without playing in their conference championship game. The Tide was, at best, the third best team in their conference yet they were somehow one of the top two teams in the country? And that's not the worst of it. In 2003, Oklahoma went to the title game after losing their conference championship. So I don't want to here about the SEC's track record in a championship game that is based in ridiculous stupidity. Justify those two games, using logic and ration, and then I'll listen to your BCS track record argument.
Never mind, in all of this, that few SEC teams know where the Rocky Mountains are, let alone the Pacific time zone. When a MMA champion is interviewed in the octagon after a tough fight and is asked who he/she wants to fight next, they almost always say "whoever they want me to fight, I'll fight." Not the SEC. They say, "I'll fight anyone, anywhere...except, mainly I mean anyone projected to finish .500 or under or come from the FCS subdivision and only here in our stadium." Boy, what a mark of a champion. Don't think that's true? Look at BCS championship contender Auburn this year. Five of their first six games were at Jordan-Hare Stadium. The one road game? They had to go all the way to Louisiana to play LSU. Whoo-wee! A six hour drive! PS, they lost. They only had one other tough road game, which they won by 4. Their other two really tough games were at home...which they won in miraculous fashion. Gee. No wonder they're playing in the championship game with a track record like that. But they are the SEC champions...and that gets you an automatic bid into the BCS title game. Heck, sometimes just being from the SEC is good enough to get you in.
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