And so, like Syrian refugees, the Big Sky tournament hits the road again--Boise? Salt Lake? Spokane? Billings?--desperate to find a venue, an audience, some respect, just like the big conferences get when THEY hold a postseason tournament. Won't somebody take us? Doesn't anybody want us? A trail of tears, indeed.
So once again, as when our football team schedules a Power Five team, or our conference tries to emulate what the big schools have done in basketball, we're faced with the obvious: We are not them; we don't belong with them. They did it for the money, of course, but the money in turn depended on elements they had, and we don't:
1. Fan Base: The original model for a basketball tournament was the Big East tournament at Madison Square Garden. The ACC, the Pac 12 and other large conferences soon emulated that success. But those schools have huge fan bases. Think Griz football, then multiply that by a factor of 50 or 100. I happened to be strolling by Madison Square Garden once during one of those Big East tournaments, and witnessed first-hand the throngs and throngs of Syracuse basketball fans, combined with the throngs and throngs of St. John's fans. Put eight Big East teams in one tournament at Madison Square Garden, and they alone would fill that arena, let alone the sports nuts and casual fans who would attend as well. Ditto a Pac 12 tournament in Las Vegas. Those fan bases are huge.
But the Big Sky fan base? Non-existent! Have you gone to the basketball boards at Montana State or Sac State or even Weber State? You've got a handful of die-hard nuts like myself on each board, little more. In the entire Big Sky Conference, there is only one fan base you can take seriously, and that is Montana for football. And our numbers pale in comparison to the larger schools in the bigger conferences. So when you attempt to hold a postseason tournament at a NEUTRAL site in the far-flung Big Sky conference, don't depend on the fan bases to show up. They don't exist.
2. TV: The Golden Goose of college athletics. Once again, the Big East was the first basketball conference to exploit this Goose, thanks to that tournament, and the incredible population density that is the northeast quadrant of this country. Mix in the aura of Madison Square Garden, the quality of the athletes, and the characters that emerged such as Dick Vitale, Rollie Massimino, or the all-black villains from Georgetown, and you had what TV craves: live, spontaneous drama. The bucks rolled in.
But the Big Sky? NO TV coverage. Used to be we'd get our championship game on ESPN. Then it was ESPN2. Now it's ESPN3. And this will persist, unless and until we have one or two teams emerge as powers in the Big Sky, as Gonzaga did in their conference. We need to be on TV. Until that happens, do you want to know the sound of a tree falling over in the forest? It's the Big Sky Tournament in Reno. Or Boise. Or Spokane, Or Salt Lake.
3. Seeding at the Big Dance: Another case for conference tournaments is the same argument that is made for the wild card in baseball: It creates interest among the teams that are out of the race. Thus a seventh-place team can get hot at the tournament, and win a spot at the Big Dance, keeping that fan base energized through a losing season. It's a great argument, it's done wonders for baseball and the larger conferences, but once again, there is a critical difference. The larger conferences generally get four, five or six teams into the Big Dance, regardless of the outcomes in the conference tournament.
The Big Sky? One and done. And if that is a fourth-place team, the seeding will be horrible, and the team that might have made a difference to the conference, will wind up playing on the road in an empty arena is some lesser unknown postseason tournament, likely not even the NIT. Again, the sound of a tree falling in the forest.
My conclusion?
I'm tempted to say, scrap the tournament altogether. The only hope for the Big Sky is for a bona fide conference champion to make a run to the Sweet 16. This is where the conference needs to make its reputation; where it needs to garner some respect by earning more favorable seedings and eventually getting a team through to the Sweet 16. That too is where the conference stands to make some serious money, because each win at the Big Dance is worth a lot of bucks to the conference. We need always always for the best team to represent us, and that is most generally the regular-season conference champion. Don't ruin our chances here with a postseason tournament.
But if you have to have one, keep it at the home of the regular season champion. They've earned it; they deserve it. And limit it to the top four teams, period. I mean, if during the regular season you've finished fifth or worse in the conference, do you really deserve a berth in a postseason tournament, a participation trophy?
Sure there are problems with scheduling, hotels, et. al. So be it. The top four teams generally are known halfway through the season, giving them time to prepare.
And one other advantage: If the host teams are Montana or Weber State or even Montana State, you are playing in arenas far classier than the barns in shithole nowhere. It's time the Big Sky Conference stopped this sad road show, and came back home where it belongs.
So once again, as when our football team schedules a Power Five team, or our conference tries to emulate what the big schools have done in basketball, we're faced with the obvious: We are not them; we don't belong with them. They did it for the money, of course, but the money in turn depended on elements they had, and we don't:
1. Fan Base: The original model for a basketball tournament was the Big East tournament at Madison Square Garden. The ACC, the Pac 12 and other large conferences soon emulated that success. But those schools have huge fan bases. Think Griz football, then multiply that by a factor of 50 or 100. I happened to be strolling by Madison Square Garden once during one of those Big East tournaments, and witnessed first-hand the throngs and throngs of Syracuse basketball fans, combined with the throngs and throngs of St. John's fans. Put eight Big East teams in one tournament at Madison Square Garden, and they alone would fill that arena, let alone the sports nuts and casual fans who would attend as well. Ditto a Pac 12 tournament in Las Vegas. Those fan bases are huge.
But the Big Sky fan base? Non-existent! Have you gone to the basketball boards at Montana State or Sac State or even Weber State? You've got a handful of die-hard nuts like myself on each board, little more. In the entire Big Sky Conference, there is only one fan base you can take seriously, and that is Montana for football. And our numbers pale in comparison to the larger schools in the bigger conferences. So when you attempt to hold a postseason tournament at a NEUTRAL site in the far-flung Big Sky conference, don't depend on the fan bases to show up. They don't exist.
2. TV: The Golden Goose of college athletics. Once again, the Big East was the first basketball conference to exploit this Goose, thanks to that tournament, and the incredible population density that is the northeast quadrant of this country. Mix in the aura of Madison Square Garden, the quality of the athletes, and the characters that emerged such as Dick Vitale, Rollie Massimino, or the all-black villains from Georgetown, and you had what TV craves: live, spontaneous drama. The bucks rolled in.
But the Big Sky? NO TV coverage. Used to be we'd get our championship game on ESPN. Then it was ESPN2. Now it's ESPN3. And this will persist, unless and until we have one or two teams emerge as powers in the Big Sky, as Gonzaga did in their conference. We need to be on TV. Until that happens, do you want to know the sound of a tree falling over in the forest? It's the Big Sky Tournament in Reno. Or Boise. Or Spokane, Or Salt Lake.
3. Seeding at the Big Dance: Another case for conference tournaments is the same argument that is made for the wild card in baseball: It creates interest among the teams that are out of the race. Thus a seventh-place team can get hot at the tournament, and win a spot at the Big Dance, keeping that fan base energized through a losing season. It's a great argument, it's done wonders for baseball and the larger conferences, but once again, there is a critical difference. The larger conferences generally get four, five or six teams into the Big Dance, regardless of the outcomes in the conference tournament.
The Big Sky? One and done. And if that is a fourth-place team, the seeding will be horrible, and the team that might have made a difference to the conference, will wind up playing on the road in an empty arena is some lesser unknown postseason tournament, likely not even the NIT. Again, the sound of a tree falling in the forest.
My conclusion?
I'm tempted to say, scrap the tournament altogether. The only hope for the Big Sky is for a bona fide conference champion to make a run to the Sweet 16. This is where the conference needs to make its reputation; where it needs to garner some respect by earning more favorable seedings and eventually getting a team through to the Sweet 16. That too is where the conference stands to make some serious money, because each win at the Big Dance is worth a lot of bucks to the conference. We need always always for the best team to represent us, and that is most generally the regular-season conference champion. Don't ruin our chances here with a postseason tournament.
But if you have to have one, keep it at the home of the regular season champion. They've earned it; they deserve it. And limit it to the top four teams, period. I mean, if during the regular season you've finished fifth or worse in the conference, do you really deserve a berth in a postseason tournament, a participation trophy?
Sure there are problems with scheduling, hotels, et. al. So be it. The top four teams generally are known halfway through the season, giving them time to prepare.
And one other advantage: If the host teams are Montana or Weber State or even Montana State, you are playing in arenas far classier than the barns in shithole nowhere. It's time the Big Sky Conference stopped this sad road show, and came back home where it belongs.