The interesting potential College Football Playoff issues – and the big things to take away from Week 10 – in the Cavalcade of Whimsy.
Sorry if this column sucks, it’s not my fault …
1) I’ve always assumed that this is the exact look on your face whenever you read my stuff.
2) If Diet Pepsi was okay, Flo, I’d have ordered a Diet Pepsi.
3) “… but Tua Tagovailoa hasn’t had to throw a pass in the fourth quarter yet this year … ”
And because of this next blurb, I’m 1000% guaranteed to experience my monthly nightmare of being handed the final for some Advanced Quantum Nuclear Infinitesimal Calculus class I didn’t attend all semester.
You’ll obviously figure out where I’m going with this immediately, and I apologize in advance for the way-too-long way I’m trying to arrive at a point.
Say there’s a class with 130 students in it, and at the end, there’s an all-important test to determine who gets to go on to some job/school/11 pm prime pole spot in the front.
About half of the students in the class are among the elite of the school’s applicants. They’ve been trained for this, they have all of the tools, and – fair or not – they’re being given every opportunity to succeed.
A few are brilliant, a few are geniuses, and of course, several others don’t apply themselves, underachieve, and have problems with the material.
The other half of the class is made up of mediocre prospects who got in for the tuition to make the school money, but they didn’t have the prep credentials or resumés of the upper half.
Some in the lower half, though, are really, really smart, bust their tails, and are far better than many in the upper half, who have a habit of blowing off studying to go drink, play bubble hockey, eat gyros, and sleep on the 2,000 calories for 14 hours – gaining 19 pounds by the end of the semester.
Which brings me to the twist.
There are two versions of the all-important final exam, mainly because the rich parents of the upper half are trying to ensure that their kids will be the ones in the mix for the few job openings.
The upper half gets a 12-question test, with six hard problems and two impossible ones. The other four questions are at the same level the lower half has to answer on its version.
The lower half gets a few of the upper level’s nasty questions that most aren’t even remotely close to getting right, several others are too tough for this group, and the rest are hit-or-miss manageable.
In all, the lower level version is nothing that most in the upper level wouldn’t be able to handle, and the elite in the higher group would’ve ripped through it in mere minutes.
A few on the lower level fly through their version of the test, and – despite having far easier questions – argue that they’re as talented and worthy of the job opening as the ones in the supposedly better half.
Those who read the tests and applications take everything into consideration, but those who did well on the tougher version are going have a better chance at the four job openings.
UCF, you’re in the class. It’s not that you’re not good enough, smart enough, or, doggone it, people don’t like you. It’s that – as unfair as it might be – you’re not taking the same test as Alabama, Clemson, Notre Dame, Michigan, Georgia, LSU, Oklahoma, Ohio State, West Virginia, or Washington State.
NEXT: But the extended live DJ mix really does bang around the 33 minute mark …