Are You Not Entertained?!

Oklahoma State players Jamie Blatnick (50) and Justin
Gilbert (4) celebrate after Stanford's Jordan Williamson (36)
misses a field goal during the Fiesta Bowl. The Stanford-
Oklahoma State game proved the need for at least a plus-1
game, if not an eight-team playoff.

It's been said for years, but the time has come for the NCAA to own up to its biggest mistake — the B(C)S.

While named the Bowl Championship Series, the only series of events that takes place is the Big East team taking on an at-large team in the Nobody Cares Bowl. Sadly, the Orange Bowl, Fiesta Bowl and Rose Bowl used to be games that everybody watched – until the NCAA decided to step in.

But now the NCAA has the chance to rectify the situation — or at least add some excitement.

This bowl season has been incredible. From Ohio edging Utah State in the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl to Michigan State's win in triple overtime over Georgia, it has been fun to watch. Even the Stanford-Oklahoma State Fiesta Bowl had me on the edge of my seat the entire game.

And as a fan I want more.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating a complete playoff system. I like the bowls. I know the athletes like going to Arizona, Texas, Florida and California for a week of fun in the sun. But wouldn't it be great if we could have a real Bowl Championship Series (or Bowl Championship Playoffs)?

Take the top eight teams — no matter what conference — and have them square off. If you're in a lousy conference like the Big East or Mountain West, get rid of the cupcakes and schedule some real teams if you want to a spot in the BCP. If you can survive the SEC or Big 12 and remain in the top eight, then you deserve your shot at the nation's best teams.

We saw what happened when Oregon's speed met Wisconsin's strength. We'll see some more of that in the next few days. Why not try to produce even more of that with a mini playoff?

True, the playoff would add three more games and possibly two more weeks to the schedule, but in his last press conference in Stillwater, Oklahoma State coach Mike Gundy said there was already too much of a lag between the regular season and those late postseason bowls. Why not take a couple weeks out and give the fans what they want, a playoff?

The NCAA is a business, no matter how they try to spin it. And like most good businesses, the goal is to make money. Hosting three extra games would cost a little more, but with television rights and fans packing the stadiums, it seems like a money tree that's ripe for the picking.

If nothing else, even adding a plus-1 playoff game would be enough to quench the thirst of those fans who crave more football before delving into their brackets for March Madness. Plus it would also force Nike co-founder Phil Knight to come up with something even more ridiculous than the "Darth Vader" helmets used in this year's Rose Bowl.

The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

You will be hard-pressed to find any person better than
Oklahoma State women's basketball coach Kurt Budke.
Budke died in a plane crash on Thursday, leaving behind
a wife and three kids, along with a huge vacancy in the
hearts of many across the country.

In my career, I've covered a lot of events — from state championships to college sports. But fortunately I've never had to experience what I went through last Friday.

For those who may have missed it, Oklahoma State women's basketball coach Kurt Budke and assistant Miranda Serna were killed in a plane crash outside Perryville, Ark., during a recruiting trip. The news was devastating to the community of Stillwater — especially after Oklahoma State lost 10 members of the men's basketball team's traveling party in a plane crash in January 2001.

As a journalist I'm supposed to be impartial, but covering the press conference where Oklahoma State president Burns Hargis announced that Budke and Serna had been killed — along with Olin Branstetter and his wife Paula — was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my young career.

I remember the first time I met Kurt Budke. It was one of my first days in Stillwater, and I had gone to Gallagher-Iba Arena to pick up my media pass for the football season. I was wandering through Heritage Hall completely lost when I was approached by a man nearly my height — maybe even a little taller.

He greeted me with a smile and introduced himself as Kurt Budke, the women's basketball coach. From there, we talked as he showed me where the media relations office was.

That's the type of person Kurt Budke was. He treated every stranger like they were a close friend. It didn't matter who you were, he wanted to make sure you felt welcome at Oklahoma State.

I only met him one time after that. I covered the Cowgirls first regular season game against Rice. Shortly afterward, I spoke with him one-on-one about his career for a feature in our Stillwater Style magazine. That was last Sunday — and it proved to be one of the last interviews he ever gave.

He could have easily blown me off and gone back to his office. He didn't. Instead we talked for roughly 20 minutes about his life, his family and basketball. It may have been one of my favorite interviews of all time.

Coach Budke was a family man who also enjoyed going on recruiting trips. He treated his players and recruits like family. During games, his voice could be heard throughout Gallagher-Iba Arena. But he wasn't angry — he was excited.

I've seen a lot of coaches come and go in my young career. But I can categorically say that I never expect to come across another coach like Budke. He was one of a kind and when his plane crashed, "America's Brightest Orange" became a little bit darker.

I Shift You Not

One of the stipulations to keeping the Big 12 together was
that Dan Beebe resigned as commissioner. After nearly
losing four teams to the Pac-12 earlier in the week, it seems
like the Big 12 is here to stay — for next year, anyway.

Well that was much ado about nothing.

All week, no matter where you turned you couldn't help but hear the rumors surrounding the Big 12 Conference. First, Oklahoma and the boys in the south tried to jump ship to the Pac-12, then Missouri started to look toward the SEC.

And while we all sat on the edge of our seats waiting to see who would go where, we forgot one simple thing — you might want to check with the conferences themselves before you decide to join their conference.

Like Spirit, the Auburn eagle, the Big 12's hopes of dismantling crashed and burned when Pac-12 commissioner Larry Scott told the world that he was happy with 12 members in a midnight press conference. Oklahoma and Texas already had the green light to join the Pac-12 and Oklahoma State was in the process of getting the go-ahead when Scott made his decision.

Much to the dismay of one Columbia sports editor — a man who enjoyed the comparison of conference shifts to plate tectonics — the conference somehow survived the weekend. The only major shifts came in the form of Syracuse and Pittsburgh heading to the ACC.

Now the nine remaining members must go back to the league they once tried to demolish with their tails between their legs. And I, along Mike Gundy, could not be happier. Those die-hard football fans saw Oklahoma State's 3 a.m. finish in Tulsa last week. Could you imagine if that happened every weekend? It's a strong possibility with trips to the West Coast each weekend — no thank you!

Some fans are upset that there wasn't the massive tectonic shift that shook the college sports scene, but there were hundreds of sports reporters that breathed a sigh of relief with Scott's announcement. So, now that all this is over, can we put it behind us and just play football — at least until next season?

And remember kids, if you want an invite into someone's house — or in this case a conference — it's best to ask permission before you barge in with guns blazing.

The Greatest Show On Dirt

Warren Morris's home run lifted LSU to the national
championship, and made this sportswriter fall in love
with the College World Series

If you haven't been tuning into ESPN and ESPN2 the last couple of weeks, shame on you. Double that shame if you have a child who is enthralled in baseball or softball.

For those who love baseball and softball, there is no greater month than June – when the College World Series takes place. Aside from the ping that comes off a metal bat, the College World Series is baseball at its purest.

Sure, being an Omaha native, I may be a little biased. But if you watch the games, you will see what I'm talking about.

These players give 110 percent every play – unlike their multi-millionaire counterparts in the Major Leagues. They line the dugout railing doing odd chants and rituals hoping to bring good luck to their team, and when that doesn't happen those tears that stream down their faces are real.

Growing up in Omaha, I still have fond memories of attending games at Rosenblatt – the stadium that housed the CWS for 60 years. I remember attending a Georgia Tech game, with this shortstop that had a really long last name and this catcher that could hit everything in sight. A couple years later, Nomar Garciaparra and Jason Varitek were bring a championship back to Boston, along with fellow CWS alum and former Florida State Seminole J.D. Drew.

From LSU's Warren Morris, whose homer in the bottom of the ninth won the national championship for the Tigers, to Robin Ventura's 58-game hitting streak for Oklahoma State, those memories are forever engrained in my brain. Even meeting Stanford right fielder Carlos Quentin – a family friend of my best friend – was a special moment. Little did I know Quentin would turn out to be a star for the White Sox.

While it may not be possible to make it to Omaha – although I strongly suggest you plan it as a future vacation destination – just watching the games on TV is worth it. So many young players want to be the next Albert Pujols. But in order to get to that point, they have to learn to play the game the right way – the way these college athletes play.

There's no egos, just a bunch of Charlie Hustles out their doing whatever they can to help their team win. Whether it's taking a pitch off the elbow or ending up with a face full of grass, these kids make it the greatest show on dirt.