Scooter Hobbs

You should already know by now not to come barging into this foxhole blathering about useless college football bowl games.

No such thing.

Bowl games, including the good ones, but especially those of the Cheez-It or Duke’s Mayo ilk and anything involving Famous Idaho Potatoes, get us through the holidays.

Admittedly, this most recent season was, shall we say, a test of the patience.

Looking back, there was never any rhythm to it. Everything seemed to be rushed or forced or, often as not, TBA.

It was wonderful when the NCAA lifted its exclusionary requirement of a winning record — bad football can be fun to watch, too, particularly when water coolers full of French fries are involved.

The more the Merrier Christmas, I always say.

But way too often this season that “abundance of caution” reared its ugly head and the bowl festivities were called off.

There were entire days and nights with no college football.

I knew it was a bunch. But do you realize that 17 bowl games were canceled? Only 24 were played.

That’s not enough.

That’s a crisis. But the bowls that were called off were all due to COVID-19 precautions.

And, hopefully, that’s a one-year setback.

But few of the ones that did get played lived up to any kind of billing, what little there was.

It seemed the best you could hope for was comic relief, that wasn’t really COVID related.

Whoever invented the term “opt-out” is no fan of college football and certainly never tried to beat his buddies by filling out an office bowl pool without a clue as to which players would be showing up.

I doubt any of those who skipped their postseason games did so over concerns that social-distancing might not be practiced to the letter in the Cotton Bowl.

We now live in a new normal in which players decide it’s time to “concentrate on my preparing for the NFL draft” by “quitting football.”

Crazy logic, I know.

But I’ve never figured out how diluting the College Football Playoff field by increasing it to eight teams is supposed to get us better, more competitive quarterfinal games than the most recent (lopsided) four-team semifinal matchups.

Still, at least there were no opt-outs for teams in the playoffs.

The rest of the bowls suffered as much for those missing as they did for pandemic setbacks.

The opt-outs all have their reasons, mostly self-protective, and in today’s climate it’s illegal to criticize unpaid college players, especially those in position to be paid well in the future.

The NFL has made it clear that team loyalty is not a factor when drafting.

It’s really become the trendy thing to do, even for some whose NFL aspirations are a pipe dream.

That’s not good for our beloved bowl season and there are no easy answers. A vaccinated nation won’t solve this one.

In the meantime, here’s some suggestions for next year’s new bowl lineup:

The Opt-Out.com Bowl: The Rudys of the world finally get meaningful minutes and fans are treated to a sneak preview of next year’s team (minus this year’s stars). Get a first look at the newbies who will probably opt out next year.

The Business Decision Bowl: The opt-outs get to go out for the coin toss … accompanied by their new agents.

The Interim Bowl: Players aren’t the only ones who opt out. Most coaches get a bonus for making a bowl game. More and more seem to get also fired for it. But somebody, usually an assistant, has to coach the team on the way out the door.

The Set an Example Bowl: Some coaches leave on their own, for greener pastures. Some do manage to say goodbye before bolting

The Audition Bowl: You can always play the farce that the interim head coach has a chance to make some hay with the search committee.

The I Love My Teammates Bowl: But not enough to join them on the field other than being there “in spirit.”

The Battle for the Participation Trophy Bowl: Two teams with losing records who promise not to blush at the coin toss.

Play for Pride Bowl: Two teams that were bad even before their opt-outs, but will put a good game face on anyway.

The Swag Bowl: Just the guys for whom an Xbox or Bluetooth earbuds in the bowl goodie bag are plenty reward enough for giving it a go for Dear Old U. — and a GoPro camera is the closest any of them will get to the NFL.

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Scooter Hobbs covers LSU

athletics. Email him at

shobbs@americanpress.comScooter Hobbs (American Press)