By: Chris Freeman
The newly expanded College Football Playoff was meant to bring fairness and transparency to crowning a national champion. Still, it has instead become a breeding ground for bias, politics, and financial influence. At its core, the CFP is still a system that rewards brand power over actual performance. Teams like Alabama, Ohio State, and Georgia—with their rich histories and massive fanbases—often get preferential treatment, not because they’re necessarily the best, but because their names carry weight in the media and the wallets of major TV networks. The glaring problem is that this brand bias skews the rankings and diminishes the accomplishments of teams from smaller conferences, who are often left out of the playoff conversation despite undefeated seasons or strong performances.
Conference loyalty compounds this issue, as the dominance of power conferences like the SEC and Big Ten—coupled with the political maneuvering of coaches, athletic directors, and even media outlets—shapes the narrative. ESPN’s obsession with the SEC, often touted as the "best conference" without equal scrutiny, further distorts the conversation. This results in programs like Cincinnati, a Group of Five schools that went undefeated in 2021, getting shut out of the playoff while two-loss SEC teams waltz in. 2023 undefeated FSU was left out, even though they were undefeated, because of a single injury. 2024 BYU and ASU because… well who knows why? Maybe because of the patch on their jersey? We’ve seen it happen time and time again—teams getting screwed over not for lack of talent or merit, but because they don’t fit into the political or financial framework that the playoff system has become. The CFP, in its current form, is not about finding the most deserving teams; it’s about preserving the status quo, protecting big-money interests, and ensuring the same brands and conferences remain on top. This system desperately needs reform if it’s ever going to deliver on its promise of crowning the most deserving champion.
At the heart of the problem is the undeniable financial influence that networks like ESPN wield over college football’s narrative. ESPN’s financial partnership with the SEC has created an almost symbiotic relationship: the SEC brings in the ratings, and ESPN amplifies the story, pushing the idea that the SEC is the gold standard of college football. The same teams that dominate the media spotlight—Alabama, Georgia, etc—are the same teams the CFP committee has historically shown favoritism toward. This cycle of media dominance, rankings, and playoff selections becomes self-reinforcing. It’s easy to see why this matters: money talks. When ESPN, which has exclusive broadcasting rights for the SEC, promotes the conference as the best in the country, it influences both the public’s perception and the selection committee’s decisions. This is not to say that the SEC doesn’t deserve recognition for its success, but when the media ecosystem is tilted so heavily in one conference's favor, it’s hard to ignore the impact on the CFP rankings.
ESPN’s influence on college football rankings and narratives is undeniable, and it starts from the very beginning of the season. The network has a clear bias that consistently paints a picture of the SEC as the undisputed powerhouse, often shaping the narrative long before teams even hit the field. This bias is evident in how ESPN elevates SEC teams in preseason discussions and continuously holds them to a different standard compared to other conferences. From inventing the term “good losses” to painting the narrative that Georgia’s 8-OT win versus Georgia Tech was a strong-willed victory, but Miami’s loss to the same team is a “bad loss” blatantly shows the narrative right in front of our eyes. The result is a self-reinforcing cycle where SEC teams are guaranteed media attention, while other deserving programs are relegated to the shadows. As the season progresses, ESPN talking heads like Kirk Herbstreit will occasionally acknowledge “teams that we haven’t talked about enough,” but these mentions often come too late to matter. Despite these late-season admissions, ESPN fails to provide these teams with the airtime and platform they need to make their case. Instead, the spotlight remains squarely on the SEC, as the network continues to push the narrative that the conference is superior, even when the on-field results don’t always support that claim. This selective focus distorts the perception of college football and perpetuates a media-driven bias that leaves other teams fighting an uphill battle for recognition.
In 2024, the expansion of the College Football Playoff to 12 teams was pitched as a way to give more teams a shot at competing for a national title and to keep programs in the playoff race deep into November. On the surface, it seemed like a win for fairness and inclusivity. However, the real motivation behind the change is clear: money. More teams means more games, more television rights, and more opportunities for networks like ESPN to cash in on the postseason spectacle. The promise of fairness quickly unravels when you realize how brand loyalty still dictates the process. A three-loss Alabama team, which suffered embarrassing defeats to a 6-6 Vanderbilt and a mediocre Oklahoma, will still be ranked ahead of teams like Miami, who have had a stronger season by most measures. Why? Because of the Alabama logo on the helmet and the massive media machine that pushes their brand—far beyond any merit-based rationale. This isn’t about the best teams, it’s about preserving the status quo, where programs with the most money and media exposure get preferential treatment. Something as simple as the committee continuing to rank Missouri, another SEC team, who has played 3 ranked teams and lost by an average of 30 points in those games, just so Alabama has another “ranked win” on their resume.
Meanwhile, conferences like the Big 12 continue to be left out of the conversation, even though teams like Arizona State, BYU, and Iowa State have put together solid, complete resumes. Their exclusion, despite strong performances, highlights the continued bias in the system. The Big 12 teams won’t get the chance to compete for a spot, outside of their automatic bids, in the expanded playoff while an SEC team with a questionable record will likely slide in because of its name recognition and media attention. The expanded playoff was supposed to offer a more inclusive and merit-based system, but it has quickly become clear that brand power and financial interests are still driving the process, leaving deserving teams on the outside looking in. The expansion has done little to change the underlying biases that continue to distort the true spirit of competition.
Let's play the Blind Resume game:
Below I am going to list 4 teams, all stats according to ESPN, with their records/Strength of Record (SOR)/Game Control/Strength of Schedule. Each of these metrics is deemed as “important” to the playoff committee.
Team 1: 10-2, 2nd SOR, 12th GC, 3rd SOS
Team 2: 10-2, 6th SOR, 4th GC, 26th SOS
Team 3: 10-2, 7th SOR, 8th GC, 28th SOS
Team 4: 9-3, 10th SOR, 5th GC, 11th SOS
All teams seem to be equal, or thereabouts, right?
Here are the current rankings of each team:
Team 1: 5th (Firmly in the playoff)
Team 2: 6th (Firmly in the playoff)
Team 3: 18th (No shot at the playoff)
Team 4: 12th (Probably will get into the playoff)
Huh?
The rankings of each team to begin the season:
Team 1: 1st
Team 2: 2nd
Team 3: Unranked
Team 4: 5th
The aforementioned teams and their resumes:
Team 1: Georgia
Team 2: Ohio State
Team 3: BYU
Team 4: Alabama
I am not saying that BYU is a team that would go far in the playoff and be favored in any hypothetical playoff matchups, but if we base our reasoning on hypotheticals why do we play the games?
College football has traditionally prided itself on the importance of the regular season. A team’s performance in those 12 (or more) games should ideally be the primary factor in determining playoff eligibility. However, if losses can be excused or overlooked for certain teams, it diminishes the significance of these games. A single loss, or even a couple of losses, may not be as devastating as it once was, especially if a team can claim other intangible qualities—like "hypothetical matchups" or the"eye test" —that aren't as easily measured but are still factored into playoff decisions.
A computer-generated ranking system would be a far better solution to keeping college football rankings objective, fair, and free from the biases that currently plague the human-driven process. At its core, the beauty of a data-driven model lies in its ability to assess teams based on clear, measurable criteria—wins, losses, strength of schedule, margin of victory, and other statistical factors—without the subjective influence of committee members who might have personal preferences, regional biases, or even financial incentives tied to the success of certain programs.
A computer-generated ranking system would also add consistency. The current system has led to absurd outcomes, such as a team with one or two losses being ranked higher than an undefeated team from a smaller conference, simply due to strength of schedule or "brand." A computer model would not care about a team’s reputation or conference affiliation—it would simply evaluate them based on the performance metrics that matter most, such as wins against ranked opponents, strength of schedule, and margin of victory.
Moreover, a data-driven system could easily be adjusted over time, incorporating new statistical models and insights as the game evolves, ensuring that rankings remain up-to-date and reflective of the modern college football landscape. Instead of relying on human intuition and personal biases, we would have rankings grounded in objective analysis.
In the long run, a computer-generated ranking system would restore fairness, meritocracy, and transparency to the sport, offering a true reflection of which teams are the best based on their on-field performance. It would strip away the arbitrary nature of human decision-making and ensure that the teams earning their way to the playoffs are truly the ones that deserve it—based on statistics, not popularity.
We must stand up to ESPN and big media corporations before they destroy the purity of college football—the last truly grassroots sport in American culture. What once was a game defined by local pride, passionate fan bases, and the thrill of underdog stories has become a product to be marketed, sold, and manipulated for profit. The NCAA, in partnership with ESPN and other media giants, has systematically diluted the sport’s integrity, prioritizing TV ratings over the on-field product. This is not new. Look at the way the NFL rose to dominance. The same forces are at work today. The creation of the College Football Playoff, initially seen as a way to crown the true champion, has turned into a system that elevates brand recognition over actual on-field merit, as teams with the most marketable fan bases get preferential treatment. The soul of the sport—the beauty of the regional rivalries, the thrill of an undefeated small-school program crashing the gates—is slipping away. College football is increasingly becoming the exclusive playground of the rich and powerful programs, with its identity shaped by corporate interests, not by the love of the game. We are witnessing a slow but certain monopolization of the sport, where the average fan has less say in how the game is played, celebrated, and even structured. If we don’t speak up now, we’ll lose what makes college football so uniquely American—the connection to tradition, coast-to-coast hatred, and real competition.
The late Mike Leach was right once again, years ago. Rest in peace, Coach.
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