NCAA Football: Offensive Lethality

NCAA 2008 Offensive Lethality

Points divided by Time of Possession; that is, points scored per minute (PPM) of offensive possession.

Team	Off. TOP	Points	PPM
Oklahoma	409.66	716	1.75
Oregon	325.47	545	1.67
Missouri	367.21	591	1.61
Tulsa	412.68	661	1.60
Houston	352.18	528	1.50
Florida	418.94	611	1.46
Texas Tech	391.39	569	1.45
Rice	398.71	537	1.35
Oklahoma St.	402.59	530	1.32
Boise St.	372.22	489	1.31
Texas	420.68	551	1.31
Kansas St.	330.06	419	1.27
Penn St.	410.13	506	1.23
Southern California	400.86	488	1.22
Nevada	423.27	489	1.16
Ball St.	423.81	489	1.15
Utah	418.10	480	1.15
Arizona	415.94	476	1.14
Troy	375.45	426	1.13
BYU	393.11	445	1.13
California	376.09	424	1.13
Kansas	393.11	434	1.10
La.-Lafayette	371.42	397	1.07
Mississippi	390.74	417	1.07
UTEP	371.02	395	1.06
Florida St.	408.40	434	1.06
Nebraska	439.64	460	1.05
LSU	390.53	402	1.03
North Carolina	350.68	360	1.03
Georgia	400.00	409	1.02
Western Mich.	364.68	372	1.02
Baylor	333.05	336	1.01
Akron	358.50	360	1.00
Southern Miss.	396.56	398	1.00
Central Mich.	385.36	384	1.00
Fresno St.	386.43	385	1.00
Illinois	350.15	344	0.98
Buffalo	432.86	424	0.98
Iowa	407.33	394	0.97
TCU	454.50	437	0.96
Oregon St.	414.65	397	0.96
Rutgers	396.56	377	0.95
Alabama	447.24	422	0.94
Bowling Green	353.13	332	0.94
Miami (Fla.)	380.83	352	0.92
Fla. Atlantic	357.57	326	0.91
South Fla.	396.77	359	0.90
Cincinnati	401.31	362	0.90
Texas A&M	333.24	300	0.90
Florida Int’l	328.87	296	0.90
Wisconsin	398.93	357	0.89
Kent St.	347.56	308	0.89
UNLV	349.95	307	0.88
Ohio St.	409.70	359	0.88
Stanford	359.69	315	0.88
Navy	405.82	353	0.87
Pittsburgh	405.39	352	0.87
Clemson	378.03	327	0.87
Air Force	403.02	348	0.86
Louisiana Tech	371.79	320	0.86
Temple	327.08	281	0.86
Northwestern	371.35	317	0.85
West Virginia	375.45	319	0.85
Utah St.	342.79	288	0.84
Memphis	423.91	353	0.83
Iowa St.	367.05	304	0.83
Purdue	357.50	296	0.83
Arkansas St.	391.70	324	0.83
Michigan St.	400.86	326	0.81
SMU	315.55	256	0.81
Hawaii	425.44	345	0.81
Georgia Tech	394.40	317	0.80
Boston College	430.77	346	0.80
Ohio	360.88	289	0.80
Toledo	336.62	269	0.80
Arizona St.	343.98	274	0.80
North Carolina St.	383.20	305	0.80
Notre Dame	404.31	321	0.79
Colorado St.	412.50	327	0.79
Middle Tenn. St.	345.77	274	0.79
Connecticut	409.91	324	0.79
Eastern Mich.	391.30	309	0.79
Maryland	359.08	283	0.79
Louisville	376.99	296	0.79
Minnesota	387.73	302	0.78
Kentucky	380.62	294	0.77
East Carolina	426.36	328	0.77
Indiana	320.12	246	0.77
New Mexico St.	348.36	266	0.76
La.-Monroe	372.61	284	0.76
Northern Ill.	413.14	314	0.76
Marshall	332.25	246	0.74
San Diego St.	312.96	231	0.74
Michigan	329.86	243	0.74
UAB	373.21	273	0.73
Arkansas	363.07	263	0.72
South Carolina	383.85	270	0.70
Colorado	345.37	242	0.70
New Mexico	362.47	253	0.70
Wake Forest	394.62	273	0.69
Virginia Tech	459.31	309	0.67
Syracuse	325.09	217	0.67
Duke	362.08	241	0.67
North Texas	365.85	240	0.66
Idaho	362.47	235	0.65
Vanderbilt	385.57	249	0.65
San Jose St.	350.15	224	0.64
Tennessee	340.60	208	0.61
Miami (Ohio)	365.85	221	0.60
UCF	331.65	199	0.60
UCLA	359.29	212	0.59
Virginia	332.25	193	0.58
Auburn	360.29	208	0.58
Tulane	373.61	200	0.54
Mississippi St.	360.88	183	0.51
Army	378.78	177	0.47
Washington	347.96	159	0.46
Wyoming	346.37	152	0.44
Washington St.	378.68	165	0.44

BCS and the Pac 10 (2008 reprise)

Since the BCS started in 1998, there have been a total of 21 BCS “at
large” berths available (excluding the “required” berths for undefeated non-BCS conference schools). There are only six conferences–Pac 10, the SEC, the Big 10, the Big 12, the Big East, and the ACC–plus Notre Dame to fill those 21 games (remember, I’m excluding the Utahs, Boise States and so on). The Pac 10 has received two of the 21 available at-large berths (2000 and 2002)–one fewer than Notre Dame. The Big 10 has received seven at-large berths; the SEC has received six; the Big 12 has received three. The Big East and ACC haven’t received an at-large berth because they suck.

In those eleven years, the Pac-10 has had schools with records better than the at-large team on three occasions (11-1 Arizona bypassed for 10-1 Ohio State in 1998; 10-1 Oregon bypassed for 9-2 Ohio State and 9-2 Notre Dame in 2005; 10-2 Arizona State bypassed for 9-3 Illinois in 2007) and the same record on three other occasions. The remaining five seasons, two of them the Pac 10 received a berth (2000 and 2002), and three of them the Pac 10 didn’t have a team with a record equivalent to the at-large teams.

Please give us our Rose Bowl back. Which, it so happens in 2008, we get: one-loss USC and one-loss Penn State squaring off. But we used to get that anyway, and in the past the Rose Bowl would have been for a probable share of a national title. This year? It’s not, because one-loss Oklahoma and Florida have been magically designated better.

So, remind me, what do we actually get out of the BCS, again?

Mitigating my outrage in 2008 are two key things–the Pac 10 sucked this year, including the two worst football teams in football history (UW & WSU), and this problem is largely the Pac 10 commissioner’s own fault. He agreed to this stupid BCS plan; Pac 10 football’s not on TV channels that people can see (and perception is a massive ingredient in polls and computer ranking); and, making matters worse, the Pac 10’s bowl games suck (the second best Pac-10 bowl is against the Big 12 number three on December 30).

Round Two: Pac 10 Senior Quarterbacks

I am much less enthusiastic about the “Pac 10 Senior Quarterbacks” theory than I was in 2007, owing to Oregon’s lack of one, but I remain confident that it is a sound theory just the same. In 2007, betting $100 per game on senior Pac-10 QBs against the point spread no matter what, I turned $1,000 into $1,590 in three short months. And you can, too!! And past performance *is* a guaranteed lock on future returns!! (yes, inveterate gambler reader, I was penalizing myself the ‘vig’ in losses)

Veteran Senior Pac-10 Quarterbacks:

1. Arizona, Willy Tuitama (Sr)
2. Arizona State, Rudy Carpenter (Sr)

Juniors:

1. USC, Mark Sanchez (Jr)
2. OSU, Lyle Moevao (Jr)
3. UCLA, Patrick Cowan (Sr)–>Ben Olson (Sr)–>Kevin Craft (Jr)
4. Stanford, T. Ostrander Pritchard (Jr)

Sophomores:

1. Washington, Jake Locker (So)
2. California, Nate Longshore (Sr)–>Riley (So)

Freshman

1. WSU, Rogers(Jr)–> Lopina (Fr)–>Lobbestael (Fr)
2. Oregon, Nate Costa (So)–> Justin Roper (Jr)–>Jeremy Masoli (So)–> Chris Harper (Fr)–>Darron Thomas (Fr)

(This is a difficult conference in which to keep your quarterback upright.)

Week 1: Oregon State at Stanford–I take Stanford plus three points (final: Stanford 36-28/WIN); Michigan State at California–I take California minus 6.5 points (final: California 38-31/WIN); Tennesee at UCLA–I take UCLA plus six points (NO BET–they lost Olson); Idaho at Arizona–I take Arizona minus 29 points (final: 49-0 Arizona/WIN); Northern Arizona at Arizona State–NO LINE. Week One Change: +$300. New total: $1,300.

Week 2: Cal at WSU minus 13.5 (final Cal 66-3… but NO BET because Longshore was benched for the sophomore Riley); Toledo at Arizona minus 24 points (final Arizona 41-16/WIN); Stanford at ASU (Sr. Carpenter vs. Jr Pritchard; I take ASU minus 14.5) (final ASU 41-17/WIN). Change: +$200.  New total: $1,600.

Week 3: Two Seniors left: ASU and Arizona. Arizona vs NMexico (-9.5) (final NMexico 36-28/LOSE); ASU vs UNLV (-25) (final UNLV 23-20/LOSE). Change: -$220. New total: $1,380.

Week 4. Arizona vs UCLA (-3.5) (final Arizona 31-10/WIN); ASU vs Georgia (+7.5) (final Georgia 27-10/LOSE). Change: -$10. New total: $1,370.

Week 5. no Pac 10 senior starters.

Week 6. ASU vs Cal (+9.5) (final ASU loses by 10/LOSS); Arizona vs. Washington (-24) (final Arizona wins by 34/WIN). Change: -$10. New total: $1,360.

Week 7. ASU vs USC (+27) (final ASU loses by 28/LOSS); Arizona vs Stanford (-6.5) (final Arizona loses by 1/LOSS). Change: -$220. New total: $1,140.

Week 8. Cal vs Arizona (+2.5) (Arizona wins by 15/WIN). Change: +$100. New total: $1,240.

Week 9. ASU vs Oregon (+3) (ASU loses by 34/LOSS); Arizona vs USC (+14) (Arizona loses by 7/WIN). Change: -$10. New total: $1,230.

Week 10. ASU vs OSU (+14) (ASU loses by 2/WIN). New total: $1,330.

Week 11. Arizona vs WSU (+40) (Arizona wins by 31/LOSS); ASU vs Washington (-13) (ASU wins by 20/WIN); plus Longshore starts once again for Cal vs. USC (+21.5) (Cal loses by 14/WIN). Change: +90. New total: $1,420.

Week 12. WSU vs ASU (-36) (ASU wins by 31/LOSS); Arizona vs Oregon (+6) (Oregon wins by 10/LOSS). Change: -$220. New total: $1,200.

Week 13. OSU vs Arizona (-3) (ASU loses by 2/LOSS). New total: $1,090.

Week 14. ASU vs UCLA (-9.5) (ASU wins by 25/WIN). New total: $1,190.

Week 15. ASU vs Arizona. Both senior QBs–doesn’t count.

2008 results: 19% ROI. Money.

Killing the cat

What we have here, Adam, is a classic Schrödinger’s cat situation.

As we both know, the dream is dead. Dixon is out for the season along with his top three backups and half of our opening-day depth chart. Stewart, with no other credible threat to divide the attention, is a sitting Duck, and an increasingly gimpy one too. Jaison Williams can’t catch. BCS bloggers are writing disdainful one-liners (and not much more) about Oregon’s “one-trick-pony offense” and predictable collapse. On and on the litany goes.

This is the awful truth — except…

…the two of us haven’t talked since ASU. I’ve tried to call a few times. I’ve composed messages in my head only to have the situation change (that is, worsen) before I could send them along. The last time we actually talked, though, the Ducks were up to #2 and just needed to ride the 51% odds to play for the national championship.

And so it hasn’t all happened yet, not completely, not in a quantum mechanical sense. The Ducks’ season is the cat in the box, laying in a fluctuating state of dead/alive from radioactive isotopes, waiting for us to officially take a peak to send the whole debacle crashing down.

This sense was heightened the other day by a malfunction in my cell phone. It played me a “new” message: my old archenemy Adam wandering the Autzen parking lot in the wake of the USC game, crowds whooping behind him, finally giving up on finding a specific tailgate amid so much celebration and euphoria.

So one option is to never speak to you again, preserving that last shred of possibility like on a DNA sample in cryogenic freeze.

(What does happen, by the way, if Dr. Schrödinger just takes the unopened box and packs it away in the attic unobserved? At some point, the dead/alive cat just kicks it anyway from hunger, right? How does the suspended particle/wave decide when it’s time to stop goofing around and do in the cat? Or does his hearing or not hearing the poor animal’s cries bring things to their natural conclusion anyway?)

If you were less amusing, I admit I’d be tempted to consider ex-communication as a workable strategy. Instead, with a sigh, I guess it’s time to share my observations on a situation that, though trivial, sure feels like it deserves the overused word “tragic.”

First, Dixon’s injury cost us a shot at the national championship, but wasn’t it Costa’s injury — barely reported at the time — that ultimately cost us the Rose Bowl? The post-Dixon offense against Arizona, particularly after Leaf’s injury took away his mobility, and against UCLA was among the worst showings of all time, trailing even the third-string-QB games with last year’s Stanford team and possibly the (deep shudder) Hargain-led Ducks of yore. Yet both games were just sitting there waiting to be won. Wouldn’t Costa, judging from the methodical drives he has conducted every time he’s been inserted in a game, have gotten the job done?

I’m surprised how disappointed I was to hear that Dixon was not invited to the Heisman ceremony. It was a foregone conclusion, but I guess I was still holding out hope. Most everyone agrees he was the best or second-best player, but the sense is that his inability to finish the season, missing the final 2.5 games, disqualifies him from serious consideration.

AND YET there is Colt Brennan, holding his Hawaii-to-NYC ticket, despite having missed two full games late in the season with injury — two games, it is worth noting, that his overrated, struggled-against-the-Huskies (!) team had no real trouble winning without him.

It’s not that the Ducks were a one-man show and couldn’t function without Dixon — an argument that probably could be levelled with some validity against Tebow and the Gator offense. If that’s the classic Dominique Wilkins role, Dixon instead fulfilled the much rarer Magic Johnson/Larry Bird role: he made his teammates better.

Initially that consisted of keeping Stewart on track and, more importantly, getting the most out of a receiving corps that at full health was still a primary cause for concern. Linebackers and wide receivers — those were the subjects of my preseason nightmares. Paysinger and Colvin were good, but nowhere near the quality of our usual top receivers like Howry or Demetrius.

What was amazing about this season was the way Dixon (and Chip Kelly, and the surprisingly good O-line) compensated and even extended the offense despite weekly downgrades in available personnel. People called us a “PlayStation offense” and made it sound like Dixon was just the lead in an all-star juggernaut, but the reality is that the guys he was throwing to were all unproven or had bad hands or were too small or hadn’t lived up to their potential or should honestly have been biding their time on the scout team.

The remarkable thing about this season isn’t the speed with which we collapsed after Dixon’s injury — it’s the fact that we continued to perform at the highest level despite a ridiculous string of injuries that should have humbled any team long before.

I have more to say, particularly about the decision making surrounding Dixon’s continuing to play on a blown knee, the sucker punch seemingly inherent in not informing the rest of the team, the inappropriateness of Bellotti’s churlish reaction to be questioned on it, and so on, but that will have to save for another day.

Go, Ducks.

The Pac 10, Bowls, and the BCS

The BCS is a disaster. Not for everyone, but certainly for the Pac 10. Every year, the Pac-10 goes around the country, plays more than its share of legitimate non-conference games, wins a huge share of those games, then settles into a grueling conference round-robin. Most years, there’s little real argument–the Pac-10 is one of the two or three best football conferences in the country.

Still, like the changing of the seasons, every December you can rely on the BCS snubbing the Pac 10. Let’s take a look:

1998: Snubbed Twice. 1998 Title Game: UCLA wins the Pac 10, 10-1 (8-0) and goes to the Rose Bowl. UCLA is passed over for the national title game by 11-1 (7-1) Florida State, who goes on to lose to undefeated Tennessee. In the 1998 BCS: 11-1 (7-1) Arizona is bypassed for an at-large BCS bid by 10-1 (7-1) Ohio State and a team with a worse record, 9-2 (7-1) Florida.

1999: Not Snubbed. The Pac-10 didn’t have a case for the national title, and only champion Stanford (8-3, 7-1) got an automatic berth. Oregon was the Pac-10’s next best team (8-3, 6-2) but didn’t deserve to move ahead of at-large 9-2 (6-2) Michigan or 9-2 (6-2) Tennessee.

2000: Snubbed Once. 2000 Title game: 10-1 (7-1) Washington was passed over for 11-1 (8-0) Florida State (Miami was snubbed–they’d beaten Florida State–but Washington beat Miami, who beat FSU–so you tell me who was snubbed worse). In the 2000 BCS, the Pac 10 had Washington in the Rose (automatic), and 10-1 (7-1) Oregon State got one of the two available at-large berths (9-2 Notre Dame got the other one).

2001: Snubbed Twice. 2001 Title game: 10-1 (7-1) Oregon is passed over for 11-1 (7-1) Nebraska, despite being ranked second in both the AP & Coaches polls (and despite Nebraska’s 30 point defeat in its final game of the season). In the 2001 BCS, Florida (9-2, 6-2) gets the at-large bid ahead of Washington State (9-2, 6-2).

2002: Not snubbed. 2002 Title game: Two undefeated teams (Ohio State and Miami) met in the championship game; the Pac-10 Champion (Washington State (9-2, 7-1) had no legitimate claim on the title. The BCS selects USC and Iowa (both 9-2, 7-1) for at-large bids.

2003: Snubbed once. 2003 Title game: LSU, Oklahoma, and USC finish with 11-1 records, but USC is dropped from the title game. The BCS at-large bid goes to Ohio State (10-2, 6-2); the Pac-10’s second-best team (Washington State) has three losses, and doesn’t deserve to be included.

2004: Snubbed once. 2004 Title game: USC (12-0, 8-0) goes to the title game against Oklahoma (12-0, 8-0). The Trojans entered the season as defending (co) national champions, held out of the national title game one year earlier, which helped them hold off undefeated teams from the SEC (Auburn) and two other non-BCS conferences. The BCS at-large bid went to Texas (10-1, 7-1) over Cal (10-1, 7-1).

2005: Snubbed once (by two teams). 2005 Title game: USC (12-0, 8-0) goes to the title game against Texas (12-0, 8-0)—there is no controversy there. The BCS at-large bids go to Ohio State (9-2, 7-1) and Notre Dame (9-2), bypassing a one-loss Pac-10 team, Oregon (10-1, 7-1).

2006: Snubbed twice. 2006 Title game: Florida (12-1) and Ohio State (12-0) face off in the title game, and the Pac-10 champion Trojans, with two losses, don’t deserve inclusion. BCS at-large bids go to Michigan (11-1), LSU (10-2), and Notre Dame (10-2). Cal (10-2, 7-2) is passed over for an SEC team and a Notre Dame team with equivalent records. (note that Wisconsin, 11-1, is also left out, but that’s because the Big 10 can only have two teams in the BCS.)

2007: Snubbed once. 2007 Title game: USC (10-2, 6-2) is left out of the national title game in favor of LSU (11-2, 7-2) and Ohio State (11-1, 7-1). I’ll say that’s not a snub (but it’s close). The BCS at-large bids go to Illinois (9-3, 6-2), Georgia (10-2, 6-2), and Kansas (11-1), meaning that one team with a record identical to the second-best Pac-10 team, Arizona State (10-2, 7-2), gets in, as does a Big 10 team with a worse record. (Note that 11-2 Missouri is also left out, but that’s because the Big 12 can only have two teams in the BCS.)

Through 2007, there have been 18 at-large berths in the BCS. The Pac 10 has put teams into those slots just twice (OSU in 2000 and USC in 2002). The Pac 10 has had qualified teams–since 2004, four teams with records identical to the Pac-10’s runner-up have received at-large berths, and two teams with *worse* records than the Pac-10’s runner-up have received at-large berths–the Pac 10’s teams just get overlooked.

What about those two occasions when the Pac 10’s runner up did not get overlooked?

In 2000, the only team other than one-loss OSU with fewer than two losses was Virginia Tech (10-1, 6-1) from the Big East. The BCS picked Notre Dame, with two losses, then was left with one slot for either the Pac-10’s runner up or the Big East’s runner-up. Other than a two-loss Nebraska team, no other non-conference champions from a BCS school had fewer than *three* losses. In short, the choice was to snub either the Big East or the Pac 10.

And 2002? Two at-large slots were again available. The non-championship contenders were Iowa (11-1, 8-0) from the Big Ten, Kansas State (10-2, 6-2) and Texas (10-2, 6-2) from Big 12, USC (11-2, 7-1) from the Pac 10, and a 10-2 Notre Dame team. The BCS took Iowa and USC–the latter having recently beaten Notre Dame. USC had six straight wins (after early losses to K State and WSU), and their record was marginally better than K State’s and Texas’, but, more significantly, K State had just been walloped 35-7 by Oklahoma in the Big 12 Championship game, and Texas hadn’t even qualified for that game. In short, the choice was either to snub a Big 12 team or USC from the Pac 10.

In summary, USC appears able to perturb the BCS machines so that it is treated like a Big 10 or SEC school and not rejected out of hand when competing against teams with equivalent records. But woe unto Pac 10 teams that are not USC: the only way such a team has ever gotten a BCS at-large bid was in a year when every Big 10 and SEC alternative had three or four losses, where they had to choose between OSU or a Big East team.

So here we are, 2007. Three at-large slots, but none for the Pac 10 runner-up. Instead, the Pac 10 is sending everyone but USC to relatively awful and obscure bowl games. Every BCS conference, the Pac 10 included, is guaranteed one $17 million payday for its conference champion (and an additional $4.5 million for additional teams). So, after sticking USC in it’s BCS Pac-10 Champion slot, none of the remaining five Pac-10 bowl teams will play on or after January 1, and together those five will make a total of $6.45 million this year. How does that compare?

The SEC: After subtracting its guaranteed $17 million payday, it is putting eight other teams in bowls (four of which are on or after January 1) and will make $22.15 million this bowl season.

The Big 10: After subtracting its guaranteed $17 million payday, it is putting seven other teams in bowls (two of which are on or after January 1), and will make $18.1 million this bowl season.

The Big 12: After subtracting its guaranteed $17 million payday, it is putting seven other teams in bowl games (three of which are on or after January 1), and will make $16.4 million this bowl season.

The ACC: After subtracting its guaranteed $17 million payday, it is putting seven other teams in bowl games (one of which is on January 1), and will make $12.2 million this bowl season.

The Big East: After subtracting its guaranteed $17 million payday, the eight team Big East puts four other teams in bowl games (none of which is on or after January 1), and will make $3.7 million this bowl season.

Comforting though it is to know the Pac 10 is not at the bottom of the pecking order, wouldn’t it just be better to have our Rose Bowl back?

Sources: various and sundry, including

http://www.usatoday.com/sports/college/football/2006-12-06-bowl-payouts_x.htm

http://www.collegefootballpoll.com/2004_archive_standings.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_NCAA_Division_I-A_football_season

Not Enough Football Talk!!

It’s a hell of a thing, getting bent out of shape about the insanity of the BCS standings, and–let’s be honest–it’s a treat. When you’re indifferent to the madness of the way the BCS ranks teams, it’s because your team sucks. In those rare instances that your team is so spectacular that you get to care, well… lucky you.

The funny thing about the BCS is that time spent trying to out-think it is time wasted. All you need is for your team to win its games–there’s a remote possibility that if you do that, you’ll still get screwed, but usually you won’t. One of my primary concerns in the past week had to do with the weakness of Ohio State’s claim on the top ranking in the BCS; turns out that resolved itself (thanks, Illinois!). I shouldn’t have worried.

 That said, it’s fun to worry, and the new worry is that even if Oregon and LSU win out, one of them will get bumped off by a team from the Big 12. In the spirit of fun, I compiled a list of each team’s wins this season:

Hell. Pasting from Excel doesn’t work. Well, here’s what the spreadsheet tells us:

Oregon lost to California–a team ranked (like) 37th nationally, right? Oregon is 4-1 against teams in the Top 40, but it lost that game. The kindest thing you can say about Kansas is that they are undefeated against teams in the Top 40; the most straightforward thing you can say is that Kansas has not played a single team in the Top 40. They haven’t even had a chance to lose to a team of California’s caliber (increasingly small-caliber as it is). That said, if Kansas gets to 13-0, and does so by beating top 10 Missouri and Top 10 Oklahoma–they’ll have an argument to make. Until they win those games, they don’t.

(There’s national consensus that Hawaii is a paper tiger, but at least it has one win against a team ranked in the Top 40–Fresno State.)

Regarding LSU: their schedule chalks up like ours does. They’re 5-1 against the top 40, including a loss to ~27 ranked Kentucky. Funny thing is to see their schedule has delicious cupcakes–they’re 3-0 against teams ranked 90th or worse. Oregon hasn’t even gotten to play cupcakes that delicious; our cupcakes have glass shards and stuff in them (Stanford, WSU, Washington…). If they win out, they’ll add one more quality win (probably Georgia or Tennessee (the latter being of fairly dubious quality)).

 Oklahoma has a respectable schedule, I guess. Yes, they ate 4 true cupcakes (teams ranked 90th or worse), and their loss was to a team ranked 65th or so. Their strong wins, though, are decent–they’re 3-0 against teams in the top 40, including a win over #5 Missouri. If they pile on a win against an undefeated Kansas team (assuming Kansas escapes Missouri), they look pretty good.

Really, if any of these teams win out (Hawaii excepted), they have a good case for being in the national title game. Kansas’ schedule has been a cakewalk, but they run into actual competition in the next few weeks. Oklahoma has had a fair-to-middlin schedule, and they’ll have to beat two teams ranked about 35th and one team ranked in the top 10 by December 1. LSU and Oregon have had comparable seasons, but LSU has one more clearly difficult game to play in the Conference Championship.

We know that either Oklahoma or Kansas will get one loss, since they’ll have to play one another if they keep winning. In LSU and Oregon’s upcoming six games, the probability of both teams winning out (assuming, optimistically, that we each have an 80% chance of winning every game we play) is 25%.

Just beat Arizona, and watch the magic!

Ducks and Democrats

The way to understand the Democratic field, as with most things, I find, is to think more about Duck football.

Just as the Democrats need a solid candidate to take back the beleaguered White House, the Ducks need a solid quarterback to take command of the retuned spread offense and erase the nasty memories of 2006. Conveniently, the major candidates in each campaign find themselves with a rough equivalent on the other side that tells us something about the nature of both races.

Who’s who, then?

Hillary is Dennis Dixon: experienced, capable, occasionally inspiring, sometimes tone-deaf and boneheaded. Her anoitment in the highest role has long been expected, but misfires along the way have assembled a legion of skeptics and outright detractors, and it is no longer clear among the faithful that she deserves a shot at the top job. The Iraq vote is, in a manner of speaking, the bowl game.

John Edwards is Brady Leaf (unless Bill Richardson is), the solidly decent, archetypal candidate who in a down year would make a perfectly acceptable choice, but whose limited upside makes him an also-ran in this contest. If he’s playing, the fans are unhappy, not because he is terrible, but because that means the “better” candidates have self-destructed.

Obama is, of course, Nic Costa, the high school All-American with the rocket arm, the A+ scouting reports, the stunningly good performances in mop-up duty and the Spring Game, and the huge attraction in the eyes of summertime fans of not having made a single mistake on the field yet. He may be the next Dan Fouts or Chris Miller, or even Brett Favre. He may play on Sundays until our kids are grown. Or he may throw his first, long-awaited pass into the hands of a cornerback, the way the freshman Kellen Clemens did, and earn detractors of his own. Only time will tell, but for now he is the savior incarnate, glorified not despite his being unknown but because of it.

So who is Al Gore, you ask? Well, there is no Al Gore on the Ducks right now, which is unfortunate, though Clemens in his senior year would not have been a far-off comparison. But no, in the context of this year’s race, Gore is the complete wild card: he is Joey Harrington, who conquered the NCAA and went on to bigger things, was abused and discarded, and now suddenly may find his way back home, rediscovering a lost year of eligibility (use your imagination) and leading the team that is properly his for as long as he will have it.

Times have changed, and people too, but there is no dispelling the idea that if Gore wins and we bring back the ugly spruce uniforms and buy a big enough billboard to hang on Times Square, things will probably work out fine.

Who have I forgotten, sitting at the end of the bench? Kucinich? Naw, he’s not a quarterback at all, just the OSPIRG president and head of the debate team, last seen picketing outside of Autzen for better humanities funding, a higher student-athlete graduation rate, and a crackdown on underage drinking in the parking lot.

And Joe Lieberman? Easy. He’s Johnny DuRocher.

John Beck: Judgment on the 2006 Oregon Ducks

Feel the grip of a cold hand around your leg, pulling you into an open grave when you hear the name John Beck? Me too.

Beck went to Miami in the second round. His 2006 numbers were: 69% completions, 32/8 touchdowns/interceptions, 3,885 yards. Here is where one might say, yes but, you know, Mountain West. And while that’s a good point, they won their last ten games and beat the living daylights out of everybody with the nation’s second most efficient (and sixth highest scoring) offense (about 40 per game once they got rolling).

The Ducks met John Beck one evening in Las Vegas, and his numbers, dismissed before the game as a peculiar illusion of Mountain West football, didn’t seem like an illusion at all. He eviscerated Oregon’s defense, read after read, play-action after play-action, series after series, and touchdown after touchdown. He was running a team that, personnel-wise, wasn’t quite a match for Oregon, and he killed us. 38-8, and it wasn’t that close. 

So: as an Oregon partisan I will watch Beck’s NFL career with interest. Perhaps he is the second coming of Joe Montana, a smart, steady, effective NFL quarterback; if he is, I’m glad. That means the Ducks simply ran facefirst into a human buzzsaw, and we can wear the 38-8 loss with a peculiar kind of pride.

 If, on the other hand, he is the second coming of, I don’t know, Jason Gesser, then the shame of that December day will be with us unto the final, bitter, rattling breath.