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Okay, that's it. Enough's enough. You had me, you lost me. I hereby officially tender my resignation from the Bowl Championship Series fan club. Hasta la vista. Thanks for stopping by the booth. Please destroy my honorary BCS pom-poms. Give, give, give ... that's all I've done since 1992, when the infant Bowl Coalition made its first national appearance. By then, the boys in the polyester jackets were locking up teams in early November and creating the kinds of lopsided December and January matchups that only a booster club member could love."Hey, kids, let's pile in the Dodge Dart and go watch Miami humiliate Texas, 46-3, in the Cotton Bowl!" So I got behind the Coalition and sure enough, it produced two No. 1 vs. No. 2 matchups in three years. Until the Coalition arrived, there had only been eight such games in the previous 56 seasons. So far, so decent. The Coalition morphed into the Bowl Alliance in 1995. And even though the Pac-10 and the Big Ten conferences still weren't on the Bowl Alliance train, I continued with the cheerleader gig. Sure, I was a bit wary when the Alliance lined up some computer geeks in 1997, but I understood the reasoning: the writers and sportscasters voting in the Associated Press poll didn't want to determine who played in what bowl. Fair enough. Then came the BCS in 1998. No. 1 Tennessee beats No. 2 Florida State. Fine. No. 1 FSU beats No. 2 Virginia Tech the following year. Okay. But No. 1 Oklahoma playing shaky No. 2 Florida State instead of Miami in 2000? Hmmm. And then this past season's computer silliness involving Nebraska, Colorado and Oregon vs. No. 1 Miami? It wasn't that I had a huge problem with the Cornhuskers reaching the Rose Bowl -- you could make a legitimate case for the Children of the Corn, the Buffs and the Ducks for No. 2. What the BCS people couldn't defend (and privately, didn't even try) was the treatment of Oregon by three of the eight computer polls. The same Ducks team that finished second in both the media and coaches polls, somehow finished 8, 7, and 7 in three computer formulas. UO athletic director Bill Moos immediately accused the BCS of an "East Coast bias," which would have made a lot of sense if two of the three low computer rankings hadn't come from California-based services. Sorry, Bill. Even through that mess I clung to the belief that, A) The BCS system beats the old days and, B) A playoff system will be instituted shortly, when Sarah Hughes does an IceCapades show in hell. Now I've moved on to C) Blow up the BCS. I'll supply the fuse and match. For the past few days in Phoenix the six BCS-member commissioners (Big Ten, Big East, ACC, Big 12, Pac-10 and SEC), as well as the "non-equity" commissioners (Conference USA, etc.), ABC suits, and other assorted power brokers, have been discussing ways to fix this mess. Tuesday's announcement that there wouldn't be much to announce shouldn't come as a surprise. Generally speaking, the BCS people don't do much in their early spring get-togethers. But this much is obvious: something is going to give. How much, is the question. I say do what they did in Goldfinger. Drive the freakin' BCS car to the junkyard and turn it into scrap metal. This annual tweaking and fine-tuning of the computer lineup, or the strength-of-schedule factor, or the bonus points is maddening. The BCS has become so light-sensitive, so reactionary, that it's losing its credibility in chunks. Either you believe in your formula or you don't. Einstein didn't change his mind on E=MC2 every other year. But the commissioners don't know what to do. That's why every option is on the negotiating table in Phoenix, including the one said to be favored by new BCS custodian Mike Tranghese of the Big East: a football version of the NCAA's Men's Basketball Selection Committee. Works for me. Assemble a 10-member BSC selection committee to essentially choose your No. 1 vs. 2. My nominees: -- Tranghese (one of the sharpest Crayons in the box). -- Roy Kramer (the SEC commissioner is retiring soon, so he'll have some time on his hands to look out for his BCS baby). -- DeLoss Dodds (the Texas athletic director knows football). -- Bernie Kosar (the former Miami quarterback is smart and passionate about the integrity of the game). -- Jeremy Foley (the Florida athletic director isn't afraid to make difficult decisions). -- LaVell Edwards (the former BYU coach is a voice of reason). -- Craig Thompson (the Mountain West commissioner, and former chair of the men's basketball committee, is a no-brainer choice). -- Tom Osborne (the former Nebraska coach is calm, analytical and would drive other committee members nuts with his jokes about lard). -- President of the Football Writers Assn. of America (this year it's USA Today college football writer Kelly Whiteside). -- Ted Leland (Stanford athletic director). If you can find 10 better, go right ahead. The point is to create a human factor, supplemented by available computer analysis, rankings and statistics. Sure, the men's basketball committee doesn't always get it right, but nor do the BCS computers. And best of all, we'd finally have a central entity to vent our frustrations. Someone ... something would be accountable. I'm not saying it's perfect. It's not a playoff system. But it beats what we have right now. Confusion.
Gene Wojciechowski is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at gene.wojciechowski@espnmag.com.
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