For years, the Bowl Championship Trophy has been presented to that year’s college football national champion. The trophy has been a Waterford crystal football, mounted on a black marble base. Some of the greats have lifted this beautiful trophy: Saban, Carroll, Miles, Meyer. But, of course, in this era of college football change, so too must our beloved crystal ball change.
The College Football Playoff’s Twitter account confirmed that this year will be the final year of our beloved Waterford football.
I write for a website called Crystal Ball Run. Bill Hancock and the BCS know that they’re ruining everything? Do they want us on the streets? Hustling for college football blog money? Well, he better think really hard about changing this trophy, because there are lives at stake. We’d have to, like, rename the site or something.
The BCS crystal football was iconic. It was the only memorable trophy in college sports, mostly because it was oddly unaffiliated with the NCAA. The NCAA gives out dull wooden plaques with some writing on them. Each sport’s trophy looks exactly the same, whether it’s water polo or men’s basketball. This is the death of something unique. Yes, we will have a four-team college football playoff where the national champion is actually decided on the field of play instead of a computer algorithm and some media members. But at what cost?
They’ve named the playoff system “College Football Playoff,” EA Sports’ new football game in 2015 will be named “College Football 15.” Will this new trophy be named “College Football Playoff Trophy”? Probably. The BCS is still oddly unaffiliated with the NCAA, who doesn’t crown a football champion yet can sanction schools and punish players for insubordination of NCAA rules (I don’t get it either), so hopefully the BCS will come up with a trophy deserving of such an achievement.
Thanks for finally getting it right with a playoff system, but a sarcastic THANKS A LOT for ruining our trophy presentations forever, BCS. I knew you couldn’t possibly get everything right. Goodbye, my sweet Crystal Ball. You’ll be missed.