The hypocritical Big Ten should want to be like the SEC

In 2011, Nebraska joined the Big Ten, allowing it to expand to divisions and host a conference championship football game. The names of those divisions: Leaders and Legends.

Those names encompass everything that people loathe about the conference.

Based on their behavior, we all suspected that the Big Ten thought it was better than other conferences. Those division names confirmed it for anyone who was on the fence. And as someone who grew up in Big Ten country, I can absolutely say that we thought people in the south were rubes.

That kind of invective was alive again this week as the Big Ten (now hilariously with the ‘B1G’ logo because they have 14 members) decided to reverse course and play football this fall, starting October 24.

Predictably, many people didn’t like the decision. Some legitimately questioned why the conference had decided it was now safe to play when Commissioner Kevin Warren had stated it was not when canceling the season in August and stating the decision would not be revisited. But others….well, others decided to voice their displeasure with the Big Ten by denigrating the SEC.

USA Today reporter Christine Brennan wrote the following:

Then came the darkest day in Big Ten sports history, the day the vaunted conference caved. It choked. It got scared. It became the SEC.

To which I’d respond: Why shouldn’t the Big Ten want to be like the SEC?

After all, the SEC is at least transparent about who it is, warts and all.

Does football matter? You’re damn right it does.

But why does football matter?

After Florida won the football championship in 2006, there was an 11 percent increase in admissions, which raised the average GPA and SAT scores of the incoming class. Over the three-year period from 2006-2009, there was a 28 percent increase in the number of applications. Unsurprisingly, Florida – which was ranked 50th in US News college rankings in 2005 is now ranked 30th (6th among public schools).

What about within the athletic programs? Well, the 14 SEC programs have average Academic Progress Rates (APR) measured by the NCAA for the 2018-2019 seasons of 973.9. The Big Ten? 973.8.

You can look up all kinds of different academic rankings and other ways to measure colleges. There isn’t a whole lot of difference between the conferences.

Does football sometimes take on too much importance in either conference? Sure. But you could make the same argument about research grants compared to teaching and other things as well.

It turns out that money skews priorities for everyone, not just the SEC.

Do finances matter? You’re damn right they do.

But you might be surprised to learn that the SEC’s revenue stream actually is less than the Big Ten. For the 2017-2018 fiscal year, the Big Ten reported $759 million in revenue. The SEC reported $660 million.

It is true that the SEC has made significantly more money than other conferences in recent history, but anybody telling you that the SEC “sold its soul” to play this year because of the money while the Big Ten isn’t driven by those kinds of things is selling you oceanfront property in Iowa.

The financial incentives and structures are the same for both, perhaps even a little bit more for the Big Ten.

Do people matter? Well……

Look, I’m not going to claim that the SEC does everything right. After all, Aaron Hernandez is a big part of the football history of my alma mater.

But let’s examine the evidence on this one.

Former Penn State Defensive Coordinator Jerry Sandusky was convicted of eight counts of involuntary deviate sexual intercourse, seven counts of indecent assault, one count of criminal intent to commit indecent assault, nine counts of unlawful contact with minors, 10 counts of corruption of minors and 10 counts of endangering the welfare of children. Penn State’s complicity in the scandal led to major NCAA penalties being imposed.

Michigan State doctor Larry Nassar pleaded guilty to seven counts of first degree criminal sexual conduct with minors under the age of 18, three under the age of 13. Again, there are allegations – in this case against gymnastics coach Kathie Klages – that University officials turned the other way when they could have surfaced the abuse. It is important to note that an NCAA investigation concluded that Michigan State did not violate any NCAA rules.

Ohio State paid $41 million to victims of sexual abuse by Dr. Richard Strauss and apologized for a “fundamental failure at the time to prevent this abuse.” A report commissioned by Ohio State found that the University knew of the abuse as early as 1979. Strauss worked at Ohio State until 1998.

That’s not the only stomach turning scandal at Ohio State, as Urban Meyer was suspended for three games in 2018 for his handling of domestic violence accusations against assistant coach Zach Smith. It likely played a large role in Meyer leaving the Buckeyes after the season.

Michigan has its own allegations to deal with, as Dr. Robert E. Anderson – team physician for UM football under Bo Schembechler and Lloyd Carr – has been accused of sexual abuse. In that case, a former student has asserted that he reported Anderson in 1968.

Of course, these things happen at other institutions. I’m not naïve enough to believe that there aren’t examples of this in the SEC or that a scandal may not rock the conference.

But for Brennan or anyone else to suggest some sort of moral superiority of the Big Ten to the SEC isn’t just laughable, it’s not factually accurate.

Does student-athlete health matter?

And factually accurate is where I take the most umbrage with Ms. Brennan’s article.

Here’s the reality. Good, honest people can differ in regards to how to respond to the Covid-19 pandemic.

I think it’s pretty definitive that canceling the NCAA Basketball Tournament in March was the right thing to do. I think this because we didn’t have nearly enough information about the disease to make any other decision.

But we have that information now. What we know is that the disease presents a very small risk for younger people and a significant risk for older people. We know that people who are already unhealthy are much more susceptible. And we know that there is some risk of heart disease associated with contracting the virus, though the degree to that risk is unclear at this point from what I’ve read.

The Big Ten looked at that data in August and decided that the risk was too high for its athletes to take. The SEC looked at the same data at the same time and decided to wait while continuing to plan for a season.

But the Big Ten didn’t just make the decision to cancel the season. It also tried to lean on the SEC and other conferences to get them to cancel as well so they didn’t have to go out on the island all by itself. It found a partner in the Pac-12, but other conferences decided to wait.

And when eight Nebraska players sued the conference seeking to reverse the cancellation (as well as obtain records of the meetings) and President Trump started leaning on Commissioner Warren, the Big Ten folded like a cheap suit.

There are some things that have changed since August that the Big Ten will cite as reasons that they decided to come back in October. But I don’t see them as significant enough that the risk profile to its players has changed very much.

Instead, the risk to the organizations themselves – and their records – changed significantly.

Takeaway

When I moved to Florida in 1997, I didn’t know what to expect.

All I knew of the Sunshine State were the wild stories that I’d read by Carl Hiassen about political corruption and greed in South Florida. I half expected to leave the good ‘ole Midwest and run into Skink grabbing a squirrel off the highway as I headed off to Gainesville for the first time.

But what I’ve found (excluding snow birds) is mostly warm people who are pretty self-deprecating. The description of the state using “The Florida man” Google challenge is funny to those of us who have lived in the state, but there’s always a feeling that the cultural elites are laughing at us rather than with us.

The Big Ten – and its defenders – may pretend that it is superior to other conferences. But the only difference is that the SEC is honest about what it is and its goals, while the Big Ten is posting about how much it loves its husband on Facebook while cheating on him in real life.

They claim to be oh so caring about their players’ safety, but then are willing to have them practice all season long even though they (previously) canceled the season for “safety reasons.” I’m also sure their mission statement has some bullshit about integrity, all the while claiming that disclosing records associated with their meetings to cancel the season to its players “would be exceedingly harmful to the Big Ten.”

Brennan isn’t upset that the Big Ten is the SEC. She’s upset that the Big Ten was skinny dipping and the tide finally came in. Consequently, everyone sees the lack of leadership and integrity clearly.

The reversal of the Big Ten to play football this season isn’t bad because it ceded some sort of moral high ground. It ceded that high ground long ago. It’s bad because the truth is you can call yourself a Leader or a Legend all you want.

But it’s how you actually behave in a crisis that determines whether you actually are one.

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