College football is at a crossroads, and it’s not just about NIL deals or playoff expansions. What’s truly alarming is how teams are gutting their schedules to chase wins instead of competition. Take the USC-Notre Dame rivalry—a historic matchup now shelved because, let’s be honest, both sides benefit from dodging a tough opponent. It’s a symptom of a bigger problem: the College Football Playoff has become the ultimate prize, and coaches are gaming the system to get there.
Personally, I think this trend is a slap in the face to fans and the sport’s integrity. What makes this particularly fascinating is how openly teams are prioritizing ease over excellence. Look at the Week 1 matchups: Ohio State vs. Ball State, Texas vs. Texas State—these aren’t games; they’re glorified scrimmages. And don’t get me started on Missouri scheduling Arkansas Pine-Bluff. It’s embarrassing.
Enter Nick Saban, the sport’s greatest coach, with a solution so simple it’s almost radical: Play better opponents. Saban’s call to schedule 12 Power 5 games is a breath of fresh air in a room full of smoke and mirrors. What many people don’t realize is that Saban’s proposal isn’t just about competition—it’s about restoring the sport’s soul. College football is a business, yes, but it’s also a spectacle. Fans don’t tune in to watch blowouts; they want rivalries, upsets, and drama.
From my perspective, Saban’s idea is a direct challenge to the cowardice we’re seeing across the sport. Coaches complain about strength of schedule but then avoid it like the plague. Missouri’s Eli Drinkwitz, for instance, has made a career out of griping about the Big Ten while his team plays in the SEC’s shadow. It’s hypocrisy at its finest.
But here’s the kicker: Saban’s plan would never fly because it requires courage. Coaches, ADs, and fans are too obsessed with the playoff to risk a loss. And that’s the tragedy. If you take a step back and think about it, the playoff expansion to 24 teams only exacerbates the problem. More teams mean more mediocrity, not more competition.
What this really suggests is that college football has lost its way. The sport is being hijacked by short-term thinking and fear of failure. Saban’s proposal is a reminder of what we’ve lost: the willingness to test ourselves against the best. It’s not just about wins and losses; it’s about legacy, pride, and the games that define a season.
One thing that immediately stands out is how Saban’s idea forces us to confront the sport’s identity crisis. Are we here for the spectacle of Alabama vs. Ohio State, or are we content with Texas A&M vs. Missouri State? The answer should be obvious, but here we are.
In my opinion, the only way to fix this is to incentivize quality scheduling. Maybe it’s playoff tiebreakers, maybe it’s fan pressure—but something has to change. Because if we don’t, college football will become a shell of its former self, a sport defined by who avoided the hardest path rather than who embraced it.
And that, to me, is the real tragedy. Saban’s solution won’t happen, but it should. It’s a call to arms for a sport that’s forgotten what made it great. So, the next time you see a Power 5 team scheduling a G5 cakewalk, remember: that’s not football. That’s fear.
