Maybe not the best. But definitely the stupidest.

There's a scene in Duck Soup where Groucho Marx, leader of the ficticious nation of Freedonia, hires Harpo and Chico to serve as his central intelligence agency. Harpo intercepts a telegram intended for his boss and after a quick perusal becomes disgusted, crumpling up the letter and tossing it aside. Chico turns to Groucho and says, "He gets mad because he can't read."

It's a classic misdirect that still stands up through the filter of 2014, although few are aware of it enough to appreciate its subtle brilliance. Sad, since it's the very brand of nonsense that is being passed off as reason by the Big 12 Conference.

In April of 2013, the NCAA announced that a four-team playoff would replace the Bowl Championship Series which had been in effect since 1998. The BCS had essentially served its sole purpose, which was to put an end to multiple national champions. But the system had its flaws. Just ask the 2003 USC Trojans, who ended the season ranked #1 in both polls yet weren't even chosen to play for the BCS championship. Or the 2001 Oregon Ducks. Or the 2004 Auburn Tigers. Or the 2006 (or 2009) Boise State Broncos. You get the idea.

The announcement was received all across the nation, including the Big 12 conference headquarters. At the time the Big 12 was the only major conference who didn't have a conference championship game. Even the Pac 12 conference (then the Pac 10), who had yet to extend the season an extra week to decide its title, added the game in 2011 to be played on the home field of the first-place school.

But the Big 12 decided to end its annual tradition in 2010, after Texas and Oklahoma (at the time, the conference's two strongest programs) leveraged the league out of its annual contest, with the argument that the extra game hurts the chances of a BCS representative being chosen from among its schools. And the argument that they would quickly make the Big 12 into the Big 12-minus-2 if it continued to play one.

While the conference may have made the right decision back then, it doesn't excuse its lack of responsive action in the 18 months since the College Football Playoff was announced. A lack of responsive action that cost two of its teams a shot at this year's national championship.

Yesterday the first College Football Playoff field was announced, and Big 12 co-champions Baylor and TCU were left on the outside looking in. The 12-member committee chose a different one-loss team, Ohio State, on the basis of the Buckeyes' strength of schedule and the fact that they were a true conference champion.

Loyal fans and alums of the two Texas universities cried foul, claiming the committee had erred in its decision. Others claimed that it was a difficult choice and a tough break for both schools. And a few wearing tin-foil hats said the fix is in, and accused everybody involved of conducting a rigged popularity contest.

Difficult choice? Tough break? Or is it the most incompetent move in all of college football since the Big 10's "one-representative" rule of the 1970s?

Where do I begin? I could start with the conference's ridiculous "One True Champion" ad campaign that aired at the start of the season. Yes, they actually took a proud stance against playing a championship game, a stance they ultimately couldn't back up. Or the Commissioner himself, Bob Bowlsby—yes, his name really does start with "bowls"—who refused to acknowledge a true champion at season's end. Or the out-of-conference schedules of the two co-champions, which, with the exception of a surprisingly good Minnesota team, are weak enough to make scrawny-armed Rob Lowe look menacing.

Nope, I'll go the obvious route. Ohio State edged TCU and Baylor by the slimmest of margins, according to the committee. If the Big 12 had a championship game in place, it would have created not just a definitive champion, but a champion with one extra top-10 victory on its resume. This would have been more than enough for either victorious team to earn the final berth in the four-team playoff.

Given the committee's selection criteria—which they made clear as a crystal football the moment they were selected as committee members—Bowlsby's decision to voluntarily forego one more quality win on the schedule of its conference champion is among the most irresponsible decisions I have ever witnessed in college football. And I grew up following Big Ten football in the early 1970s.

As a fan and son of a Michigan season-ticket holder, I watched the 1972-74 Wolverine teams amass a 30-2-1 overall record and not be allowed to play in a single bowl game—not one!—due to conference rules that prohibited more than one team from representing the conference in the postseason. Commissioner Wayne Duke realized the stupidity of the rule and lifted it in 1975, allowing Michigan to play Oklahoma in the conference's first bowl game outside of Pasadena.

But enough about the Wolverines, who seem to be testing the limits of the word stupid themselves over the past seven years. Back to the brazen incompetence of the Big 12. Without a championship game, their teams end up playing one less game than everyone else, let alone a surefire top-25 matchup. So in that final week their teams' strength of schedules plummet, or rather, every other conference's schools' strength of schedules skyrocket. This explains, for example, why #3 TCU can freefall from third to sixth position after a 55-3 win. It's not the committee's error in judgement. It's the commish's.

Yesterday Bowlsby admitted that the conference's lack of a championship game "may have had a bearing" on the decision. Gee, ya think? You had a chance to enhance your conference champion's chances by taking their 12-game schedule and adding a quality win to it, over either the nation's #3 or #6 team. That would have outgunned the Buckeyes' plastering of #13 Wisconsin, regardless of the score. You had a chance at re-creating a revenue building, ratings-boosting championship game (most likely at the new Jerry Dome), with the one matchup the entire football-speaking world wanted to see more than any other: TCU vs Baylor for all the marbles. And oh yeah, the extra $2 million the winner would generate by playing in the national semifinal. There's that.

But all of that is gone, at least for this season. Not because of a tough break. Not because one school or one network campaigned for their team. It is gone because the conference chose not to compete for its national football championship. In the words of Groucho Marx, "that's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard."

Night Terrors

The distance between Michigan Stadium and Notre Dame Stadium is a scant 150 miles. When the sun sets, however, the two venues couldn't be further apart.

While the Wolverines have built two entertaining evenings around beating the Fighting Irish under the lights at the Big House in recent years——the 17-point comeback and last-minute heroics that crushed the domers in 2011, then last year's methodical destruction——their nighttime ventures just south of the Indiana border have been a nightmare.

Let the record state that not once in four tries have they scheduled a primetime matchup in South Bend that they could put in the books as a W.

The Wolverines' first venture was the first night game ever played at Notre Dame, in 1982. Deeply invested in the Gerry Faust regime at the time——with new uniforms to match, worthy of an Ohio high school team——the 20th-ranked Irish rode the strength of a packed house of screaming fans (as loud as 59,000 fans can be) to upset #10 Michigan, 23-17, limiting all-american wideout Anthony Carter to one measly albeit spectacular punt return touchdown.

This was also back in the day of Masco portable lighting, as Notre Dame Stadium had no permanent stadium lights back then. So four towers at each corner of the field were charged with generating enough light to illuminate the entire playing surface, leading to players accidentally getting an eyeful of the intense beams and losing sight of the ball, or an approaching opponent.

The nighttime football experiment proved successful in South Bend as Notre Dame would host other primetime contests during the 1980s and 1990s, ultimately installing permanent lights when the school expanded the stadium's capacity to 80,000 in 1997.

Michigan's next excursion to college football's self-appointed cathederal came in 1988. The #9 Wolverines were underdogs to #13 Notre Dame despite the higher ranking. And the team they faced was formidable indeed. Quarterback Tony Rice and tailback Ricky Waters tore up the Wolverine defense for 200 second-half yards, while Reggie Ho added his name to the long list of formerly unknown kickers who would crush the hearts of the maize and blue faithful. His four field goals nearly outscored Michigan's entire offense, the last being a 48-yarder with 1:13 remaining that proved to be the winning points. Mike Gillette, the kicker with a cannon for a leg, missed a 48-yarder of his own on the game's final play.

As it turned out, this game was a mere appetizer for the Wolverine heartbreak entree that was served up the following week. Bo Schembechler's boys couldn't hold onto a seemingly secure 16-point lead over Jimmy Johnson's #1-ranked Miami Hurricanes and lost, 31-30. The Irish, on the other hand, never looked back and, despite the graduation of Heisman Trophy winner Tim Brown, captured the national title with a Fiesta Bowl victory over West Virginia.

Fate was just as unkind to the Wolverines on their next trip to South Bend in 1990. Let by the good-as-gold Ohio tandem of QB Elvis Grbac and SE Desmond Howard, Michigan was in cruise control with a 24-14 second-half lead over the top-ranked Irish, destined to break their three-game losing streak at the hands of the evil Irish empire.

Until the collapse. After pushing the Notre Dame defense all over the field with punishing runs, coach Gary Moeller decided to take the foot off the neck on first and goal. Grbac tossed a pillow into the hands of linebacker Michael Stonebraker to kill the drive. Then, facing a third-and-17 deep in their own territory, Irish quarterback Rick Mirer heaved a desperate throw downfield, in the vacinity of spark plug wideout Raghib Ismael. As Irish luck would have it, the ball skipped off Ismael's helmet and hit receiver Lake Dawson in stride.

Mirer connected with Adrian Jarrell in the final minutes for the winning TD and Notre Dame extended its streak over Michigan to four games, ruining Moeller's coaching debut and causing me to get physically ill (the last time a sporting event would cause such a reaction… but then, the Irish haven't won two years in a row since).

Three trips to Indianatucky. And three defeats, heading into Michigan's most recent visit two years ago. After opening the season with a thorough Bama butt-whooping in the Jerrydome, the 18th-ranked Wolverines had put together wins over Air Force and UMass and hoped to recapture the "Under The Lights" magic from the previous year at the Big House.

No such luck. Denard Robinson (at right) looked more bewildered than heroic, throwing interceptions on four straight plays——twice to Heisman runner-up Manti Te'o——becoming Michigan's all-time leader in the category. Despite a seven-minute advantage in time of possession, the maize and blue never found the end zone all evening, and the Irish prevailed, 13-6.

As was the case in 1988, Notre Dame continued their winning ways all season long, reaching the BCS Championship Game where the Crimson Tide delivered a beating nearly identical to the one they handed Michigan. As was the case in 1982, the 2012 Wolverines went on to lose the biggest games on their schedule, finishing with an underwhelming 7-5 record.

Saturday night is the last chance to notch a victory under the watching eyes of Touchdown Jesus. A loss would render the Wolverines winless in South Bend for nocturnal eternity, or until the two schools get their heads straight and decide to renew one of college football's greatest rivalries.

At least I'm unbeaten at Notre Dame Stadium. I've seen Michigan play there twice: the 47-21 demolition of the second-ranked Irish in 2006, and the 2010 game, where Denard ran and passed for a staggering 502 total yards, including the winning touchdown run with 27 seconds remaining. So do I dare put MY perfect record on the line this year, or should I take this perfection to the grave with me?

As long as get-ins stay above $300, I think we have our answer.

Appy Ending: Wolverines 52, Mountaineers 14

Ignore the point spread and near certainty of this outcome. Forget the bitter rivalries that lay ahead. Make no mistake about it, this was the one game on the 2014 football schedule that the Michigan Wolverines absolutely had to win.

Had they gone into the second half against Appalachian State with the score even remotely close, ESPN was poised to cut into its other regional action for the breaking story. But no interruption was necessary, as the Wolverines from opening whistle to midfield handshake were determined to take the underdog out for a drive to the farm. Literally racing to a 35-0 lead at the break, Michigan destroyed the Mountaineers 52-14, tearing a hole into their defense that Cinderella couldn't sew shut, even with Rumpelstilskin's help.

Every aspect of new Bama coaching transplant Doug Nussmeier's offense was rolling as if the team were wearing Crimson:

Senior quarterback Devin Gardner, who last season led an offense that experienced more sacks than a Detroit auto assembly plant, was nearly flawless, completing all but one of his 14 passes for 173 yards, three touchdowns and a completion percentage that matched the 98 on his jersey.

The running attack, which hadn't seen a game with two 100-yard performances in nearly seven years, throttled up with a leaner, meaner Derrick Green (170 yards on 15 carries, see pic at left) and De'Veon Smith (115 on 8 carries, see above pic) alternating long dashes through the bewildered App State secondary.

The receiving corps, led by acrobatic wideout Devin Funchess, grabbed 210 yards worth of aerial gifts--Funchess providing one of the afternoon's many highlights with a monstrous, Megatron-esque touchdown grab over the heads of double coverage (see my pic below) to stretch the Wolverine lead to 21 points and touch off a prolific 21-point run in the last 3:59 of the half.

And the revamped offensive line, the weakest link of a dismal 2013 offense that couldn't muster 175 yards of total offense in three of its final four games, opened hole after super-highway-sized hole all day long.

With time to throw the ball (and I don't mean throw it away), Gardner ran the new pro style offense with effortless efficiency, using his multiple options to perfection. Perhaps most impressive of all was the rate at which the team put its points on the board. 63 yards in 4:44. 78 yards in 3:08. 82 yards in 2:00. 73 in 0:51. 75 in 3:24. 75 in 4:24. Seldom has 350 Michigan rushing yards felt so… rushed. For once in a long while it seemed like there was genuine urgency on the offensive side of the ball. They were downright impatient. (Oh how I remember the days of Gary Moeller, whose no-huddle offense was notorious for drawing delay of game penalties.)

As Ben Gedeon dove into the end zone after catching and returning a blocked Mountaineer punt 32 yards less than a minute before halftime, the Wolverines effectively sent a spoiler alert across the nation that there would be no embarrassment at the Big House today. Please take the glass slippers back to your point of purchase for a full refund.

So this season of redemption has started off as well as one could hope, with the order-restoring Mulligan of one of college football's greatest all-time upsets. The slate now becomes less historic, yet just as vengeful.

Next comes a trip to South Bend for the nationally televised Saturday night farewell contest with Notre Dame. The Wolverines, who've had great fun beating the Irish under the lights at Michigan Stadium, have never won a night game with Touchdown Jesus watching. In the great primetime fail of 2012, they threw interceptions on four consecutive plays, generating a measly two field goals in a 13-6 loss that triggered the perfect storm of a 12-0 regular season for the Domers.

Two weeks after that Utah returns to Ann Arbor, six years removed from ruining Rich Rodriguez's coaching debut 25-23 in 2008. That win sent the Utes on their way to a perfect regular season of their own. Coincidentally, both Notre Dame and Utah put their unblemished records on the line against Alabama. While the Irish were routed by Bama in the 2012 BCS title game, Utah crushed the Crimson Tide in the 2009 Sugar Bowl, ending the season as the nation's only unbeaten team.

Down the road are Penn State, Michigan State and Ohio State. But for now, a focused state will do. If Brady Hoke is able to instill one thing into his 2014 Wolverine team, it's to take things one redemption game at a time.

Road Rage

They say most accidents happen within 25 miles of home. Using that homespun logic, the Michigan Wolverines basketball team's attack on normally insurmountable Big Ten venues is no accident at all.

With Tuesday's impressive win in Columbus, Michigan improved its conference-leading record to 10-2, a half game ahead of Michigan State, whose barn they effectively torched on January 25.

Clearly, this is a team who understands what it takes to win. As was the case in East Lansing, the Wolverines trailed for much of the game on this night. Yet, like the game in East Lansing, they refused to stray from their strategy, mixing defenses and sharing the love offensively while biting off chunks of deficit like so many tacos on Taco Night in Columbus.

Before you knew it, two treys and a travelling call later, Michigan was off on a run that swung the game 17 points toward the Blue and emptied the stands faster than Luke Fickell ever could. Led by emerging freshman superstar Derrick Walton Jr., the maize and blue sucked the spirit out of a skeptical Ohio State squad as uncertain about the reasons for its upset wins as its upset losses.

A convincing 70-60 triumph. The third impressive road win over a ranked conference opponent. A win-in-any-building swagger coupled with the team's growing dominance inside the friendly confines of Crisler Arena, where their lone loss this season was by two points to #1 Arizona. (Junior Jon Horford has experienced the crushing taste of home-court defeat just four times in his college career.) It's the recipe for a high seed and another long tournament run.

But back to their rage against the hospitable host. Tuesday's win was their first at the Schott since 2003, the first-ever road win over a Thad Matta-coached Buckeye team. All of which is a big deal, as seemingly stronger teams had failed to eek out a win in the four-letter state let alone coast to one. Michigan's 77-70 win over then-#3-ranked Wisconsin on January 18 was its first win at the Kohl Center since the previous millennium. Somehow knowing Brian Ellerbe was their coach at the time seems even longer than the millennium mention.

And while knowing the team is now in the hard-working hands of coach John Beilein (see my postgame pic to the left), it explains much but not all of the team's dominance. After all, they've pulled off each of these improbable victories without their best player, their first-team pre-season All American, Mitch McGary, which makes this feat even more head-rattling. They've moved along with surprising ease despite the frequent disappearance of their other phenom, certain NBA draft pick Glen Robinson III. And they've managed to out-rebound most of their opponents while being among the nation's least-fouling teams. In fact, the aforementioned Horford is the only active player even taller than 6'8". So what gives, Michigencia?

The answer may rest in the unwavering, unimaginable floor leadership of Walton. The true freshman nine months removed from Detroit's Chandler Park Academy simply refuses to acknowledge much less overcome pressure. Facing the wrath of a fiercely zealous and Zubaz-clad Ohio State student section throughout much of the evening, Walton calmly executed the Wolverines' forty-minute gameplan as carefree as if he were running pick-up ball at the YMCA. By game's end Walton was four assists shy of a triple double.

With the last two stops on the Big Ten road train being West Lafayyette and Champaign, it's conceivable that Michigan could make it through the conference season with only two road defeats. One true road defeat actually, since I've long given up the thought of the Wolverines ever winning a game at Indiana's Assembly Hall. As impressive as five wins in the last seven games against Michigan State may be, this season's ridiculous road success is the best indicator of what we fans have waited nearly two decades to proclaim: Michigan Wolverines basketball is back. Really. I'm serious.

Replay Ball!

Upon further review, the end is near.

Major League Baseball has defined the instances where instant replay review will come into play this summer. As if their game wasn't long enough already, they've officially taken us a full step down the slippery slope to sports abyss.

Now we'll see managers challenge ball-strike counts to allow their pitchers time to warm up, or to force a rain-delay call. We'll see the flow of a game being disrupted as often as it is in football, except that the flow of a game for a baseball pitcher is more critical than for any position player of any other major sport. We'll see umpires calling close plays differently so that they'll be reviewed.

We'll see a future where instead of reviewing isolated cases the way it is now, EVERY close home run will be reviewed, much like every scoring play in football/hockey. Every ball that bounces on, near or over the foul lines will be called into question. Every fielder or ball going into the stands will be scrutinized, every close call at first will require a convention of umpires viewing several angles of the play. Every game will be turned into a four-to-five-hour mess.

All because a friendly, century-old game played by human beings—where no two playing surfaces are the same, where errors are statistically significant and where blown calls are as much a part of the game as poor managerial decisions—has decided to turn itself into an exact science.

What disturbs me is not the list of reviewable situations announced by the MLB. The danger lies in what's not being said. The "hey, we have the technology, so why not?" argument will soon apply to any and every close play. This isn't merely reversing the odd circumstance where, for example, seven umpires all happened to miss an outfielder short-hopping a fly ball in the divisional playoffs. Soon every diving catch will be reviewed, while we wring our hands and ask ourselves if the shortstop completed the process. Think of all the diving catches that go on each day in the majors. Think of every instance of a batter beating the throw to first. "Hey, we have the technology, why not review it?"

We'll hear the things they say during the four-hour marathon football games, things like "who cares how long it takes, as long as they get it right." Mind you, this is a sport that willingly accepts the artificially swollen stats of a decade of knuckle-dragging steroid-enhanced freaks. A league whose owner gleefully accepted a tie in its All-Star Game. A sport who acknowledges the 1970 Orioles and 1985 Royals and other teams who won their championships because of blatantly missed calls. Because baseball is baseball, no Detroit Tiger pitcher has officially thrown a perfect game. We don't like it but we accepted it as fans of the game. Hell the pitcher himself accepted it. Because it's baseball.

But now suddenly, a century's worth of human mistakes are deemed unacceptable. Just watch. With this as its gateway, soon balls and strikes will be electronically determined, since they can be just as clearly measured with third millennium technology. Watching an entire game will test the limits of a fan's endurance. So the numbers will dip, baseball will conclude that more excitement needs to be added, and soon more idiot rules will be adopted to drive up the run totals.

Forget the manager challanges. Where's the flag I get to throw?

Nice day for a Whis

Rivers: So you met with the Lions today huh. What’d they say?

Whisenhunt: They’re looking for a guy who can lead a team to the Super Bowl.

Rivers: Didn’t you take the Arizona Cardinals to the Super Bowl?

Whisenhunt: A guy who can win at Ford Field.

Rivers: Didn’t you win a Super Bowl at Ford Field as an assistant?

Whisenhunt: A guy with experience handling petulant, prima donna quarterbacks.

Rivers: There'll be other opportunities, coach.

Coaching Vacancies

After last week's sacking of Jim Schwartz, the Detroit Lions are in the familiar position of searching for a new head coach. In his 50 years of ownership, William Clay Ford Sr. has averaged a new coach every 3.1 years. So, as one may do with old girlfriends or all the cars one has owned, taking a look at Lions coaches past can shed light on the similarities--or the mistakes the front office keeps repeating.

Of the sixteen men that have been paid to troll the Lions sideline with a whistle since 1963, not one has gone on to be hired as the head coach of another NFL team. One look at this coaching collage I put together may help explain why. I don't know, there seems to be this unifying feature present in all Mr. Ford deems worthy of coaching this team. This je ne sais quois, that screams, "I'm your man for the next 3.1 years."

Kind of makes you wonder whether the Lions find their coaches, or the coaches find the Lions.