STUDIO 86?

If the halftime score is 20-5, or 6 to 4, you'll know something's up

I won't say who, but one of the most successful recording acts in American music history will be performing at halftime of Saturday's North Carolina-Notre Dame game. Here's a hint: They were Chic a long time ago.

Oregon State Wins National Championship

So, listen. You know how columnists (especially those who appear regularly on TV) bloviate endlessly about how nobody likes the present system of determining a national champion? Well, for the record: I DO!!! So the next time one of them says or writes that, please tell them that the dope who writes for NBCSports.com is the crazy man walking down the street wearing only a lime-green thong bikini (or maybe that's Borat), unafraid to be Mr. Contrarian Guy.

And if you've read me before, you know I'm a zealot on this topic. There's a lot I'm not sure about on this planet (for example, the new NBA ball) but I am sure about this: a playoff will destroy college football's magic.

Exhibit A: Would the players and students at Oregon State have been anywhere near as ecstatic if the Beaver win against USC had only been about ending the Trojans' 28-game win streak? If, right after USC's John David Booty had his 2-point conversion pass attempt deflected into the turf, a TV announcer had been able to say, "Fortunately for Southern Call, this loss will not prevent them from making the playoffs"?

I don't think so.

Yes, the Trojans are alive--barely--in the 2006 national championship race, but most likely their two-year reign of at least playing for the national title is over. And isn't it cool and so unconventional that in tiny Corvallis, Oregon, at the smallest school in the Pac-10, that a piece of the national championship puzzle can be fitted in place? And by the way, weren't just as many people (if not more) talking about USC's loss on Saturday night as they were the St. Louis Cardinals' World Series title?

That's part of the magic of college football: every weekend matters.

Anyone reading this ever graduate with a 4.0 GPA in high school or college? If so, you know that that GPA wasn't achieved through a few solid weeks of study. You earned it by consistently showing up and performing well for eight semesters. You couldn't afford to blow even one test. Or blow off a test for a ditch day at Lake Pleasant even though that Xavierite with the tattoo on her ankle and the red bikini...where were we?
Anyway, that 4.0 is special because it was a combination of high performance and consistency. The college football national championship is a lot like that 4.0 (except that with the 4.0 you don't land dates with Brynn Cameron and Paris Hilton after you give the valedictorian speech). You have to show up every week. Every action has a consequence. Just like real life.

Clemson's a terrific team, and in a postseason playoff they might just be able to beat anybody. But, after a decisive win against Georgia Tech on October 21, the Tigers just didn't show up at Virginia Tech five nights later (and the ACC does its membe schools no favors by having them play those Thursday night games, either). And that one evening of less-than-stellar effort cost Clemson any shot they might have thought they had at the national title.

Harsh, I know. But nobody makes war movies involving paint ball guns, either. For the same reason.

I don't care if the media who hate this system ever agree with me. I just never understand how they can be so in love with March Madness, a system in which the champion must go undefeated through just six games, and where seldom are the nation's four-best teams (as the regular season determined them) in the Final Four, and yet loathe the BCS, where the champ must usually go unbeaten through twice as many games and where it's impossible to argue that the two teams in the championship game are at the very worst both among the nation's top five.

Maybe it's because nobody gets to fill out a BCS pool sheet.