There’s a tyrannical rule in college football that seems
to predate the North Korean regime. The hierarchy in place for the
polls and the bowl appearances carries over each year.
The only change from year to year is which team out of the
Pac-10, Big XII or the SEC will hoist the glittering national
championship trophy, and whether it will be in Pasadena or Miami.
And that is obvious to understand when you consider that a BCS bowl
bid (win or lose) is at least $15 million. That’s a figure
that is sure to make every athletic director blush. Because of the
money at stake, it’s an institution that is hard to
change.
But every once in a while there comes a program that defies the
tradition, the infrastructure and the media blitz by pushing its
way through the door and making room for itself at the
grown-ups’ table.
The most recent example of this are the Rutgers Scarlet Knights,
who have gone from a team that routinely won only once or twice a
year to being the frontrunner for the Big East’s BCS
representative in just three years. No. 7 Rutgers’ comeback
28-25 win over No. 10 Lousville in Piscataway, N.J., last Thursday
night was one time when the tritely used term “statement
game” was completely appropriate. What made the win such a
definitive moment in the evolution of the Rutgers program
wasn’t just the game itself. It was everything that
surrounded the game. It was on a nationally televised Thursday
night that took Rutgers coach Greg Schiano and his blue-collar
persona into the living rooms of countless sports writers, fans and
high school recruits. It was against a previously unbeaten
Louisville team ““ ranked No. 3 in both polls at the time
““ that was quickly becoming the flavor of the month for all
BCS-haters who were hoping that University of Louisville coach
Bobby Petrino could finish the year undefeated and put another dent
on the BCS computer ranking.
It was a win symbolizing everything that Schiano is trying to
sell his program as ““ a gritty, team-oriented, no-nonsense
ball club that endears itself to fans with a wonderfully crusty
humility. By erasing a 25-7 deficit at home, Rutgers pulled off a
feel-good comeback that had ESPN announcers Chris Fowler and Kirk
Herbstreit cheering for the Scarlet Knights. It was a perfect storm
that Rutgers was able to ride all the way to national prominence,
even if only for one week. Even if it was just one week, there are
dozens of programs that would kill for a week like that. Just ask
Karl Dorrell.
Even if Rutgers (9-0, 4-0 Big East) loses its regular season
finale to No. 8 West Virginia (8-1, 3-1) on Dec. 2, the program has
been able to generate enough glowing buzz around the country to
keep the influx of prime recruits signing up.
All this despite finishing 1-11 in 2002 after Schiano took over
the program. All this despite having a dormant football program
ever since playing in the first college football game against
Princeton back in 1869. All this despite an institutional design in
college football to keep all the talent and the money in the same
circles year after year.
So how did it happen? How did Rutgers become the blueprint for
left-for-dead programs that are trying to achieve a modicum of
success? Schiano obviously is the man who deserves all the credit
in the world. He inherited a program that routinely saw the top
talent in New Jersey bolt for Penn State, Syracuse and even USC
(see Dwayne Jarrett). He inherited a program that was bad, but
hadn’t hit rock bottom yet. And when it did in 2002, he sold
his program to East Coast recruits as a chance to play early and
help build something, rather than just be a part of an already
elite program. He sold himself as a creative coach who would trust
his underclassmen if they trusted him by just signing a letter of
intent. It’s no surprise that in the four years he has been
working to keep New Jersey recruits in state, Penn State and
Syracuse have seen a drop in their talent level.
Now the only question is whether Rutgers can keep defying the
hierarchy of college football by holding onto Schiano when richer
programs such as Miami offer him their coaching job and throw bags
of money at him. For Rutgers to keep him, Schiano is going to have
to stay in New Jersey out of loyalty. Because if he were to decide
his future based solely on financial or professional criteria, then
it would be a no-brainer for him to leave.
Schiano is going to want to stay close to home and keep his
family close by in New Jersey, just like his recruits wanted to
stay close to home when they decided to play for him. Sometimes the
only way a program can defy the inequality of college football is
with a heavy heart guided by sentimentality, rather than the ego or
the bank account. Usually, though, it’s the ego and the bank
account that win out.