Q&A: Restoring Old Rivalries and Dynasties
Q&A makes its long-awaited return to The Press Break. I know you’re eager for the #content, so I will not bore you with a long intro — but I am soliciting your inquiries for future editions! Email pressbreaknewsletter@gmail.com, or shoot me a tweet @KyleKensing.
The College Football Playoff1 and the conference realignment it spurred initiated plenty of changes that I personally believe are awful for the sport. Conferences are not meant to be so vast that teams go entire freshman-to-senior cycles without playing. And while the SEC has managed to maintain a level of regional identity despite over-expansion, the Big Ten and the ACC — ESPECIALLY the ACC — grew to footprints that compromise the shared identity that’s central to having a conference.
College football is meant to be a regional sport, and part of that is regional rivalry. And while there are exceptions — Iowa-Nebraska and Appalachian State-Coastal Carolina have the feel of budding, genuine rivalries2 — a “rivalry” doesn’t happen just because some folks with influence say so. Look no further than the idiotic Bonham Trophy.
Try as some might, you can’t just manufacture a rivalry like the Backyard Brawl, which is why it’s one of my three choices to be restored. The animosity between West Virginia and Pitt is genuine, cultivated over regular meetings dating back to 1895.
Even a decade after the two went to separate conferences — for context on how long that is in college football terms, freshmen today would have been first or second graders for the last Brawl installment — the fan bases continue to snipe at one another in a hostile yet fun way.
The sniping between Texas and Texas A&M is considerably less fun; the past 10 years has more closely the passive-aggressive, petty bitching out of a Burn Book more than anything. But the in-state rivalry certain is hostile. And the sport’s been worse off without that rivalry.
Here’s one instance in which conference realignment actually does some good in rejuvenating tradition, as Texas’ impending move to the SEC means no longer having to pretend LSU-Texas A&M is worthy of shining the UT-A&M’s rivalry’s shoes. Had Texas not received that invite, however, I firmly believe we’d have had to wait a generation or longer to see another installment between the ‘Horns and Aggies.
For ‘90s and ‘00s kids such as myself, Colorado-Nebraska probably feels like a much bigger rivalry than its actual history suggests. What’s more, their split is a rare instance in which the divide actually made sense — Colorado is a seamless cultural and academic fit in the Pac-12, as is Nebraska in the Big Ten. I only mention CU-NU because it’s one I’ve seen mentioned in the past as worthy of restoration, and to WORK YOU WITH A SWERVE, BRO!
Another former Big 8 rivalry, on the other hand, needs to be an annual tradition: Nebraska and Oklahoma. I emphasize Big 8 here, because it’s one of the earlier casualties of modern realignment, albeit not Playoff-generated. The death of the Southwest Conference and subsequent formation of the Big 12 created divisions that left the Cornhuskers and Sooners with multiple-year gaps from 1997 through 2010.
The two played annually from 1921 to the formation of the Big 12 in 1997, however, along the way growing into national powerhouses. Last year’s return of the series reintroduced a new generation to the history and hostility that existed between Nebraska and Oklahoma back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, fostered for decades prior.
Two programs immediately come to mind for basketball, especially now that Mick Cronin appears to have UCLA3 on track: Georgetown in the East and UNLV in the West.
Hoya Paranoia predates me by about a decade, but the lingering cultural of John Thompson’s Georgetown basketball remained once I became fully invested in the game in the ‘90s. I was 12 years old going to school with friends in a rural, northern Arizona community who were donning the Hoya kente cloth jerseys and shorts Allen Iverson wore.
Georgetown and Thompson shook college football’s foundation for more than a decade, and the name still carries cachet. Ideally, I would love to see it happen during Patrick Ewing’s tenure. Last season doesn’t inspire much confidence, but Ewing having been the foundation on which Georgetown grew into prominence once before and doing it again would be great for the game.
UNLV, meanwhile, was college basketball’s parallel to football’s The U. The Runnin’ Rebels thrived under Jerry Tarkanian with the same swagger as the Hurricanes of the same era. Seeing clips of Tark’s teams, particularly in the late ‘80s, their games were true Vegas spectacles transcending a simple sporting event.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that either cultivated identities that were cool bordering on feeling dangerous against the backdrop of cities steeped in a similar mystique.
Miami became a football power at the same time the city itself was booming from drug money. That the creator of the documentaries chronicling Hurricanes football also made the Cocaine Cowboys series is just too fitting. Likewise, UNLV basketball took off in the Mafia days of Sin City.
While the connections have never been proven to be as deep as the historical fiction of Winning Time suggests — I touched on that matter in this Awful Announcing commentary on gambling and college basketball’s ugly history — there’s still something oddly poetic about UNLV reaching its first Final Four in the same era depicted in Casino.
The collapse of UNLV hoops came not long after the transition of Las Vegas from mob control to corporate rule is equally poetic. Maybe it’s an indicator that we’re simply destined never to see those days of UNLV as a powerhouse return. But I’m not so sure.
Vegas is fast proving itself to be a great sports town. The Golden Knights were immediately embraced, the WNBA’s Aces have carved out a solid fan base, and the Raiders seem to have enjoyed early success with their move. What’s more, the Mountain West is a good basketball conference with passionate fan bases, so it’s not as if UNLV is trying to regain glory while still in the Big West.
As for football, given the mentions of Miami I just made, it would seem The U is my choice there — but, no. Despite becoming aware of and following college football at the tail-end of the original dynasty, and being so fascinated by the early 2000s Hurricanes that my college friends and I would get together specifically to watch them play, I’m not all that interested in seeing a Miami comeback.
The moment the Orange Bowl was demolished, so too was much of the mystique associated with the Hurricanes. You simply can never recreate the magic while playing in a generic NFL stadium almost an hour’s drive from campus.
Part of me wants to say Nebraska for this exercise because of the loyalty from its fans. After the collective behavior of those both in and out of the program during the pandemic, however, I’m a little put-off with the Huskers.
So that leaves me with…oh jeez, Texas?! Pass.
It’s tough, because the hires most set up for success immediately — Lincoln Riley at USC and Brian Kelly at LSU — didn’t fly under the radar. Also, in USC’s case, national media is wildly overrating the Trojans heading into the season based on the program’s line (offensive and defensive) question marks and lack of overall depth.
Joe Moorhead performed brilliantly as head coach at Fordham, and I’m interested to see how he fares at Akron. I also like both New England hires, Jim Mora at UConn and Don Brown at UMass.
Neither UConn nor UMass can go much of anywhere but up after occupying the bottom of the FBS, but Brown and Mora both bring a wealth of experience and demeanors that could reinvigorate programs in need of energy. That Brown already succeeded once at UMass — albeit in FCS — factors into my interest there.
Somehow, I can’t imagine an all-star game based around the Civil War would fly in this day and age. BUT!
The concept of an all-star game, played on Christmas morning, remains a good one I would love to see restarted. The bevy of January games played now exist for NFL draft scouting purposes, which saps some of the fun out of them. An all-star game that exists within that vacuum of just being about that game has potential.
Of course, there are so many more bowls now than during the Blue-Gray Classic’s era, the options for FBS players are limited. Focusing a less-Civil War’y redux as a showcase for FCS/D-II/D-III and even NAIA standouts would give it its own identity as well as a national spotlight for the lesser-seen talent.
Maybe it’s vanilla, but I am honestly far more interested in events with rich history than those with the most spectacle. For example, I really have zero interest in attending a Super Bowl…but I still love the Rose Bowl Game.
To that end, a Duke-North Carolina basketball game at Cameron Indoor Stadium is high on my list. So, too, is Michigan-Ohio State football at the Big House, or an Army-Navy Game.
In terms of major events, the World Series isn’t the landmark of the cultural zeitgeist it once was but it still offers an aura that places it squarely on my list. I would love to experience a live World Series game at some point in my life, preferably involving one of Major League Baseball’s more prominent franchises.
Covering an Olympics is on my professional bucket list, but that’s in part because I want to experience the Olympics live. The thought of being immersed in a basically 24/7 event over two weeks is thrilling. Going from a basketball game in the morning to gymnastics meet in the afternoon and judo match at night just seems so incredible.
What’s more, I credit the Barcelona Games as one of the primary catalysts of my interest in sports, so taking in that environment fulfills a childhood dream.
And while my knowledge of tennis could be described as casual at best, Wimbledon has piqued my interest since I was a kid. Chalk that one up to childhood wonder, as well; I associate Wimbledon being on my TV in the morning at the start of summertime, thus viewing the event as synonymous with vacation. That’s a unifying theme with another couple of bucket-list events, tying a competition I have enjoyed with a place I’d like to visit.
To wit, the Maui Invitational is on my list. I have been to Hawai’i but never Maui. Going for Thanksgiving week and binging on basketball at one of the greatest events the sport puts on sounds like heaven. And while I’m loosely using the term “sport” here, I want to attend a major wrestling show in Japan at either the Tokyo Dome or Nippon Budokan.
The former hosts New Japan Pro Wrestling’s annual Jan. 4 spectacular, which is one day after the Rice Bowl — Japan’s national college football champion against the winner of its pro league. The finale of G1 Climax has previously been held in Nippon Budokan, right in the heart of summer and during the baseball season.
A trip to Japan for pro wrestling, baseball and a sumo match? Amazing.
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That’s all for this week. Check out the next Q&A when I might address Virtus Bologna basketball.
Which is to say ESPN.
In both cases, the feeling of rivalry has occurred organically. Iowa-Nebraska started as a manufactured rivalry — two neighboring states thrown together — but close games and wars of words have added fuel to the series. In the case of Appalachian State and Coastal, the two being newcomers to FBS around the same time, both growing into contenders and banner-carriers for the Sun Belt at the same time, and trash talk among high-profile players has sparked what I deem from my trip to Boone last October as a damn good, burgeoning rivalry.
I wrote in the past that a strong UCLA-Arizona rivalry is essential to the Pac-12, but overall, a good UCLA bolsters the entire profile of the sport as its original dynasty.