This week the Big Ten announced that, beginning in 2014, Rutgers and Maryland will join the conference. That will bring the number of schools to 14 — and many people think the Big Ten is likely to add two more teams to end up at an even 16, with two eight-team divisions. The pundits are talking about North Carolina, Kansas, Georgia Tech, and other schools as potential candidates.
One of the traditional Ohio State fight songs — Across the Field — ends with the line “so let’s win that old conference now.” Thanks to Commissioner Jim Delany, it’s not the old conference anymore. With the addition of Nebraska, and now Rutgers and Maryland, what used to be a northern, Midwestern conference now stretches from Nebraska to the Atlantic Ocean and from northern Minnesota to below the Mason-Dixon line. Everyone knows, too, that the expansion is all about money. The Big Ten wants access to the New York City and Washington, D.C. TV and fan base markets and believes that adding Rutgers and Maryland will provide that access. Rutgers and Maryland are joining because they will get far more money from the Big Ten than they would from the Big East and the Atlantic Coast Conference, respectively.
What does it mean for Big Ten fans? Sure, it means Big Ten teams will play schools who aren’t traditional powerhouses or traditional rivals — but Ohio State already does that, with its preseason schedule and with perennial Big Ten doormats like Indiana. Rutgers and Maryland may not be top 20 football programs, but neither are most of the teams the Buckeyes play in their “pre-season” schedule. If the addition of more teams means that the Big Ten schedule gets extended and Ohio State loses a few games against the likes of San Diego State, I’m not going to cry about it. The only problem I would have is if expansion causes Ohio State to not play Michigan every year, or puts the Buckeyes in a division featuring a bunch of new eastern teams.
What does this mean for college football? I wonder how, with everyone chasing the almighty dollar, NCAA members can continue the pretense that college athletics is just about sacred concepts of amateur competition. College football and, to a lesser extent, college basketball generate huge amounts of money — amounts so huge, in fact, that universities will abandon conferences they’ve belonged to for decades to get a bigger piece of the pie. College football is saturated with TV money, product tie-ins, merchandising deals, sponsors, and other revenue generators.
So how can the NCAA justify suspending student-athletes who (in the recent case involving Ohio State) sell memorabilia for a few thousand dollars or a few free tattoos? At some point, will someone choke on the hypocrisy?