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Other Voices
Both systems are bloated, antiquated and as confusing as college calculus. Neither results in a satisfying conclusion. In college football, teams play 12 regular-season games, each allegedly as important as the others, only to reach the postseason where polls, computers and TV talking heads decide which of the teams should be ranked first and second and, thus, play for the national championship. In presidential politics, half the politicians in Washington announce they're running for president, only to have their lifelong dreams undone by a poor performance in a state that has fewer than 2 percent of the electoral votes needed to win the November election. In college football, the talking heads on ESPN, the so-called experts on college football, predicted Hawaii, which had played an easier schedule than North Hall, would upset Georgia in the Sugar Bowl. Georgia won by 31. In presidential politics, the talking heads on CNN and Fox News spent the day of the New Hampshire primary writing Hillary Clinton's political obituary, their exit polls predicting a double-digit loss to Barack Obama. She won by three points. In college football, the pundits said Ohio State, from the mighty Big 10 conference (which really has 11 members; make up your own joke about higher education here), finally had the speed and skill to match up against an SEC team. The Buckeyes lost by two touchdowns. Embarrassed in the championship game for a second straight year by a southern team, they haven't beaten an SEC team in a bowl game since the Carter administration. In presidential politics, the pundits said the entrance of actor Fred Thompson would invigorate a GOP field in desperate need of invigoration. Now months after Thompson threw his hat into the race, his campaign has failed to catch on with voters and come next January, he's more likely to be back on "Law and Order" than in a real-life version of "The West Wing." In college football, fans were denied marquee matchups during bowl season because bowls like the Rose were more concerned with tradition than creating a bowl game that people actually would watch. Instead, viewers got to watch USC and Georgia, in separate games, battle to see which would pummel their outmanned opponent more. Viewers weren't amused; the Rose's TV ratings were down 20 percent, and it's gone from being "the Granddaddy of them all" to being "the most irrelevant of them all." In presidential politics, voters are denied a strong field of qualified candidates because we've evolved the system into one that rewards trashing opponents over actually talking about what you'd do if we bother to elect you. And by "we," I mean candidates, the media and, yes, the voters themselves. In college football, there's a light at the end of the tunnel, though we're so early in the process that it's still possible that light is an oncoming train. University of Georgia President Michael Adams has floated an idea for a college football playoff that actually makes sense and would take ESPN out of deciding who plays for what. It just might work. In presidential politics, there's no such light. It's entirely plausible that by Super Tuesday on Feb. 5, when 20 states hold primar- ies and caucuses, that the nominees for each party, in essence, will have been determined. And there's the rub: Voters in about half the states would not yet have voted. The Iowa caucuses and the New Hampshire primary are to presidential politics what the Rose Bowl is to college football. Steeped in tradition, but woefully out of date. By the time the presidential circus rolls into Georgia, the number of clowns stuffed into the tiny Volkswagen will have been reduced by a handful, and two states that are virtually meaningless on Election Night will have played too important a role in determining who Georgians can vote for on Feb. 5. Iowa has seven electoral votes. New Hampshire has just four. Combined they have fewer electoral votes than Georgia, which has 15. I had no intention of voting for Joe Biden or Bill Richardson or any of the others who have dropped out so far. But if I did and I didn't live in Iowa or New Hampshire, I'd be angry that two states with just over 1 percent of the U.S. population prevented me from doing so. In both college football and presidential politics, there has to be a better way to get better results. Part of me, though, is leery of pushing too hard for change. Given their track records, I'm not wild about having the NCAA or Congress in charge of anything else, and there's no guarantee what they come up with is any better than what we've got.
Because even if you do build a better mousetrap, all you're going to catch is a mouse.
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