March Madness: Is 64 Mad Enough?
In light of recent talks to expand the NCAA tournament, it seems only fitting to take a stance on one side of the debate—either in favor of a potential 96-team field or against it.
With changes in mind, and the 2010 March frenzy less than a week away, pay special attention to the insanity that a 64-team bracket induces, while at
the same time remain open-minded to the idea of adding another 32. (I understand the current format has, technically, 65 teams, but the "play-in" game might hold more irrelevancy than Mark McGwire's steroid confession.)
To evaluate both options, one must understand the history of this three-week phenomenon—and the transformative expansion it has gone through—in order to credibly offer a verdict.
In addition, it's important to consider the effect a 96-team format would have—whether it be on the students' educational inconveniences, the TV scheduling and how CBS would be impacted, or, perhaps the main driving force behind any changes, the finances.
Now, although the latter isn't this writer's expertise, we can, however, hypothesis on the tournament's structural changes and the students' educational demands. Before we do, let's dig into the history of March Madness.
In 1979 the tournament field moved to a 40-team format, up from 32 the year prior. The next year, the tourney saw its participants expand eight more, totaling 48. Finally in 1985, aside from the aforementioned irrelevantly added play-in game, the number settled at 64, and has been stagnant there ever since.
Why the doubling of the tournament during the late '70s to mid-'80s?
A logical explanation would be the media coverage and attention the game received. In 1979 the championship game was viewed by a record 35 million people, and over the course of the next six years (by the time the brackets finally landed at 64) averaged 30 million a year.
In fact, 16 years later, right up until the 1994 finals between Arkansas and Duke, the NCAA sustained a 30 million viewership for its final showdown.
It wasn't until 1995 that the game began to see a precipitous decline in overall witnesses of the championship game. (Coincidentally, this is the exact time the Internet began to take off. Additionally, 1979 was the year ESPN originated. Just food for thought.)
Spanning the subsequent 15 years, from 1995 to 2009, the NCAA Championship game drew in an average of 22 million people.
Why the tournament lost eight million viewers on its final night is beyond me. A quick suggestion would be the competition of the actual game. If this is true, wouldn't adding 32 more teams that wouldn't qualify under the current format worsen the possibility of a good final?
Actually, it strengthens the chances of the best teams reaching the finish line. With 96, the structure would consist of adding the additional 32 teams, essentially the top 32, to a first round bye. This enables the elite to be the strongest towards the end, and the not-so-great, the ones playing an extra game along the way, to be the weakest.
Furthermore, think about it. A 16 seed has never defeated a No. 1. A 15 seed has only beaten a No. 2 four times. Basically, remove the poor match-ups early on, and the NCAA gets a better overall product, and we the fan get better games at the cost of an additional round.
But withering the field down to the best isn't always the greatest formula for success. In 2008 (the only year since the field expanded to 64 that all four No. 1 seeds prevailed to the Final Four), the championship game drew in 19 million viewers.
So at this point, from the NCAA's perspective, the thinking behind an additional 32 teams widens the fan base and attracts a larger audience. Add on more schools interested at the onset, and your chances of keeping those same fans around for the end increases.
On the flip side, though, from the fans' point-of-view, adding an extra 32 teams compromises the integrity of the regular season, and dilutes what it means to "make it to the dance."
Are we willing to forgo meaningful regular season games all for three weeks in March?
In contemplating all these factors, on the surface it appears as though 96 is better. But personally, explain to me how the scheduling would work. Because 16 games on Day 1 and another 16 on Day 2, both being Thursday and Friday of Week 1, works for me.
When would that added round be? Tuesday before the start of the tournament? (Show me the ratings of the current play-in game on Tuesday night.)
No thanks!
As for the students, one more game simply means one more night of no classes in March. There are greater problems the NCAA faces from a student-athlete debate than one extra day of no classes. If you're deciding to favor expansion or not, please do not use this argument. Simply put: it holds no water.
Finally, as noted, the finances of expansion are way too complex to analyze, and quite frankly, not worth it. The tournament is about heart, and taking home six consecutive games en route to a title. Whether a University makes money, or CBS negotiates a larger contract, is useless in my mind.
In the end, I've weighed the options many times over in my head. When it all boils down, I feel that if it ain't broke, then don't fix it. There are always going to be teams that don't make the tournament, and there is always going to be team No. 65 that feels slighted.
But where does it end?
If you add 32 more now, team 97 will be unhappy.
Look, the tournament is perfectly structured the way it is: Thursday through Sunday for Week 1; Thursday through Sunday for Week 2; Saturday and Monday for the Final Four.
When you begin rewriting the definition of March Madness, you risk losing its identity.
And once it's gone, it'll never come back.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010 at 12:49PM