Cheating in College Sports

The two most recent newspaper investigations into the Michigan football program revealed something interesting about how college football fans view "cheating" in the sport. With the Michigan athletic department facing questions about its academic advising policies* and excessive football practice time, a majority of Michigan fans had the same response to both allegations--a collective shrug**. Major fansites led vicious attacks on both newspapers, and fans seemed to say that, even if the allegations were true, they weren't a big deal.

Some believed that a simple "but-every-school-does-it" response justified Michigan's actions. As for the excessive practicing allegations, based on message board posts, many believed that college athletes should just suck it up and work harder.*** And, of course, other schools pay players, they say, and that's certainly much worse.****

But isn't exactly the opposite true? Academic policies***** and practice time restrictions are in place to protect players. Restrictions on paying players are in place to protect...well, I'm not sure exactly who******. If you actually care about the well being of players and student athletics, shouldn't you be much more concerned about providing athletes a good education and a good athletics-life balance than about their mother getting some extra money from a booster to pay the rent?

In a very cynical sense, college football fans are being extraordinarily selfish. They care about bribery because they get screwed if there team plays by the rules and misses out on top recruits. On other other hand, when schools provide crappy educations and work players too hard, it's only the players that are hurt. Another new class of freshmen will make the fans forget about the seniors that graduated soon enough.

It's unfortunate fans feel this way. All of these raise very important questions about the future of college athletics, that, as far as I can tell, are occasionally raised in public but never really addressed. Instead of worrying about these problems, fans and media are too busy enforcing absurd rules and wringing their hands over the need for a playoff in college football. Good to know we have our priorities straight.

* I guess this isn't technically "cheating", but the point remains.
** Although I suspect if the Columbus Dispatch had written these stories about the Ohio State football team, the tune of Michigan fans would have been slightly different.
*** Yes, I realize most people objected to the Free Press's reporting methods and interpretation of NCAA rules, but, my general sense was that, even if the allegations were true, people weren't really bothered by them.
**** As I said in **, Michigan fans are obviously quite biased about the situation. That said, the reaction to the Cam Newton allegations seems to suggest fans and the media consider paying players a great blight upon college athletics.
***** As I said in *, the academic policies aren't technically illegal, as far as I know, but the fans' response to the allegations were still illuminating.
****** Different conversation, but can someone point me to anyone that has an even somewhat valid point as to why college football players should not be paid? It's on my long list of things I really can't even begin to understand the vehement objection to. As if it's somehow OK to pay football players to arbitrary amount (tuition+room/board), but nowhere beyond that point.

The "Mythical" National Championship

Let me preface this by saying that this post has nothing to do with whether or not the BCS system is, on the the whole, good for college football. Although I have not read Death to the BCS, I would have no difficulty believing the BCS system--like much of big-time college athletics--is simply a bunch of old men exploiting 20-year-olds for their own financial benefit. Certainly, that problem should be addressed.

That said, I have more difficulty accepting arguments that a playoff system is somehow a more legitimate method of crowning a national champion. For instance, on Spider and the Henchman a few weeks ago, Fox Sports Kevin Hench derided the BCS title as a "mythical" national championship. Like many others, he seems to presuppose that a playoff system would somehow be a much better way to pick a winner.

But a playoff system wouldn't necessarily prove that the team that won was the best team in college football; rather, it would prove that the team that won happened to win two or three games in a row in the middle of December against other teams that had equally good years but may have been unlucky in the match-ups they had those two or three weeks. Perhaps that's the way you prefer to define a national champion, but it's not the only way--and certainly not the way to prove which team is "best," if that's the end goal*.

Many compare the possibilities for a college football playoff to March Madness, one of the most exciting events in sports each year. But, really, the NCAA Basketball tournament is a horrible measure of picking a true champion--it simply picks a tournament winner. By playing only one game each round, it creates more opportunity for random outcomes. Exciting, certainly, but meritocratic, certainly not. If Butler had won last year, would anyone really believe they were the "best" team in college basketball**?

For all the criticism about the length of the NBA playoffs, it really is a much better system for picking a champion. Long series eliminate some of the randomness--if you prefer the best team advancing, changing the opening round to seven games was a great idea. Obviously, because match-up problems still exist, there are some problems, but this is probably as close as you can get to picking a real champion, save European-style soccer leagues--as opposed to cups--where only the regular season counts.

As a closing note, this also raises the question of why we as fans need to have ONE champion. Isn't it simply enough to say we had at least three teams that had excellent seasons? Granted, sports is all about competition, but it's still sort of odd that people demand that only one team receives recognition for being the best in any year. Especially as more styles of play develop, it is becoming less likely that there really is one team better than every other--there are always going to be some styles of play that don't match-up well. The "everyone-is-winner" mentality is a bit of overkill, but, on the other hand, so is the other extreme.

* Which, admittedly, is very difficult to do. Do we consider a team "better" for getting hot at the end of the year, or playing consistent throughout the season? If a star player gets hurt, should we take that into account? Obviously, many of these distinctions are completely subjective--it all depends what qualities you believe demonstrate excellent. But it also shows why the idea a playoff is somehow objectively better is a bit absurd.
** Again, assuming this is what we believe a national championship should measure.

Greatest TV Seasons Ever*

*Well, more like Greatest TV Seasons of the Past 10 Years*
** Actually, more like Greatest TV Seasons of My Favorite TV Shows From the Past 10 Years***
*** Limit one season per show

As promised, I hope to blog more in the upcoming weeks. Given my recent declaration that the first season of the cancelled-too-soon Terriers was one of my favorite TV seasons ever, I decided to start things off with an actual list. Despite thinking about it a bit, I've probably left some shows off, so feel free to mention your own favorite in the comments. I've limited it to 10 seasons total and one season per show, which means some of my own favorites didn't make the cut.

In no particular order:

30 Rock Season 2: Unfair as it may be, I tend to view the NBC comedies relative to each other-And I don't remember enjoying any of them more than I enjoyed Season 2 of  30 Rock. I once thought this might be because it was so funny we would communicate almost exclusively through quotes from it each week, but I rewatched it somewhat recently and it held up (I had even forgotten some great lines, like Kenneth calling bagels "Jewish doughnuts"). They also managed to integrate NBC gimmicks (such as Green week) while also skewering them. Greenzo Out. (Honorable Mention for the NBC comedy slot: Office S2, Parks & Rec S2, Community S1.)

Sopranos Season 6, Part II: A bit of a cop-out, I know (I'll take Season 1, I think, if you don't accept this), but David Chase put together a terrific set of episodes to end the show-nearly every one was a classic. One episode after the next, Chase portrays Tony at his most petty and reprehensible as his world closes around him-forcing Bobby to commit his first hit after losing a fight to him, running up his gambling debts with Hesh, etc. The directors also did a tremendous job creating tension in scenes such as Bobby's death at the train store and, of course, the final shot at Holsten's. The entire Season 6 probably could have been perfect had the renewal of the show not meant Chase had to draw out part one longer than originally anticipated.

Wire Season 3: If only for this scene.

Arrested Development Season 2: Possible I've made a huge mistake, but really hard to go wrong with any of them.

Terriers Season 1: Still depressed this got cancelled. Really struck a great balance between episodes that could both standalone while advancing the season-long story arc. Watch it if you haven't already.

Freaks and Geeks Season 1: I wonder if F&G would have lasted any longer than it did if it were on today.  Networks seem to be at least somewhat more receptive to critical support today (even if that didn't help Terriers). Plus, a Judd Apatow  production now is worth a lot more than it was then. Somewhat extraordinary how many stars this show produced for an 18-episode season about high school outcasts. In addition, much like Terriers, it had a perfect ending.

Seinfeld, Season 5: You kind of forget when you only watch it in syndication that Seinfeld actually had season-long story arcs. That said, this selection has nothing to do with that, and more to do with the solid collection of episodes (e.g. The Cigar Store Indian, The Marine Biologist, and, of course, The Opposite).

Friday Night Lights, Season 3: First season was a bit too long. And the second season never happened.

Da Ali G Show, Season 1: When I saw this commercials for this, I thought it looked awful. Then I watched it. I'm still laughing.

West Wing S2: I always thought it was funny that Sorkin originally imagined President Bartlet would be a minor character on the show. Probably a good thing Sorkin expanded his role.

I'm certainly wrong about some of these, so feel free to tell me so in the comments.

(EDIT: Seinfeld technically breaks the 10-year rule I set out above, but you get the point.)

Coming Soon...

It has been far too long since I last blogged. I promise to rectify that soon. You can expect many new posts in the upcoming weeks--with potential rewards for a lucky reader if I don't follow through. Anticipate less finance and more random thoughts. Please e-mail/comment with any ideas. Also, if anyone would be up to join for a guest blogger debate or conversation, that'd be terrific, too.

Going Once, Going Twice, SOLD (Out Their Own Clients)

As expected, a number of bloggers have defended Goldman Sachs after the New York Times skewered the bank on the front-page the other day. Some critiques of the story had merit; others did not. I’m going to focus on part of one made by the Atlantic’s Daniel Indiviglio.

Next, the article faults Goldman for its involvement with auction rate securities. Yes, Goldman was wrong to think that these securities would be okay. But then, so was every other investment bank. Virtually all were advising clients to sell auction-rate securities, and all got out as quickly as possible when they realized how poorly the securities would perform as liquidity was drying up.

It’s true that many other banks also did this, but that should not excuse Goldman’s behavior. As my mother would say, "if everyone else was jumping off a bridge, would you do it, too?" But in any case,  Indiviglio misses some key points about this particular market.

The issue is not simply that the auctions began to fail in February 2008 — it’s that the banks had always stepped in and prevented them from failing in the past. The municipalities and nonprofit groups that issued the auction-rate securities believed they were getting a great deal — and no doubt the bankers assured them they were — because they essentially got to borrow long-term at short-term rates. Although, in theory, there was a chance the auction could fail and lead to penalty interest rates, this appeared impossible in practice, because the banks that ran the auctions had always supported them (until February 2008, at least). In fact, I’d be surprised if, when banks pitched the product to issuers, they didn’t mention their willingness to step in and prevent auction failures. With that in mind, it makes the banks' behavior a bit more egregious.

Further, Indiviglio fails to consider the perspective of an entirely different set of clients Goldman and the other banks screwed — the investors that bought what banks told them was a cash-like product. Investors purchased auction-rates securities because they provided better-than-average returns for a product that was supposed to be as liquid as cash—by always supporting the auctions, the banks had created the illusion of liquidity and sold their clients on it. But when banks stopped supporting the auctions, individuals and companies that needed the funds for day-to-day expenses discovered that the liquidity only existed as long as the banks decided it would. They no longer had instant access to the billions they had invested.*

* A number of state AGs filed lawsuits against the banks, eventually leading most of them to offer to buy back the securities from investors.

Sure, the issuers and investors probably deserve some of the blame—they should have realized that lower debt costs and better returns meant they were taking more risk, even if they weren’t sure where the risk came from. But I also would be willing to bet the banks didn’t emphasize those risks when selling the clients these products. Or make extraordinarily clear that they as investment banks had no fiduciary duties to the clients and thus wouldn’t necessarily have the clients’ best interests in mind.

But even if we assume banks behaved appropriately in their interactions with clients, it's not clear that this is what they should have done, despite this claim from Indiviglio:

But the article also blames Goldman for not breaking a contract so to treat one client more favorably regarding its auction rate securities. So the bank should have ignored a contract in order to voluntarily endure losses due to the risk a client agreed to take on? How do you think Goldman shareholders would feel about that decision? Goldman has a fiduciary duty to maximize their profit, which arguably outweighs any desire it has to protect clients form themselves.

Certainly Goldman should maximize shareholder value, but part of that is maintaining the brand name (something the old Goldman realized). An investment bank sucking every dollar out of clients today likely won’t be maximizing profits for shareholders in the future--only maximizing the current bankers’ bonuses. Most restaurants, for instance, realize it’s worth it to take a loss on a dinner someone might complain about today to convince them to try the restaurant again in the future (or at least not bad-mouth it quite as much). Pursuing a business model in which you hold every client to every contract—including those in which you provided bad advice—seems extraordinarily short-sighted. But, of course, bankers won't be worried about that when their bonus is only based on what they can extract from clients today, and not in the future.

What Else Is He Going To Say?

It’s inevitable that during an economic crisis, journalists will turn to financial leaders for "insight". And it’s just as inevitable those people will provide quotes such as this:

And in an interview broadcast on Sunday, the U.S. Treasury secretary, Timothy F. Geithner, signaled his confidence that Europe would resolve its debt crisis and that the American economy would withstand its impact. “Europe has the capacity to manage through this,” Mr. Geithner told Bloomberg Television. “And I think they will.”

Although some have pointed to this as an example of Geithner setting himself up to look silly, I’m not sure what else he’s going to say. Even if he believed Europe couldn’t make it through the crisis, he wouldn’t admit it. And, because of that, no one will ever believe it even if he did.

I realize both the journalists and the politicians are just doing their jobs, but I don’t really see this as a situation where either has much to gain. For the journalists, there is an infinitesimal chance Geithner actually says anything newsworthy. For the leader, at best, you have people question your motives, and, at worst, you leave yourself with public comments that will in the future looks as foolish as this.

Honesty is the Best Policy

Wanted to dust off the blog for a very quick thought on journalism. Ideally, more regular posting will resume once school concludes in a few weeks.

In today's New York Times, public editor Clark Hoyt had this to say about a reporter's use of Twitter to air some complaints about Toyota:

Hiroko Tabuchi, who said she knew the guidelines, nonetheless let frustration get the better of her on March 29, when she attended a news conference by Akio Toyoda, the president of Toyota. Her string of tweets about the event was first reported by The Nytpicker, an anonymous Web site that focuses on The Times.

With less than three hours of sleep, Tabuchi wrote, she had to get up at 6 a.m. “We love you Mr. Toyoda!” After the news conference, she wrote that Toyoda took few questions and “ignored reporters, incl me who tried to ask a follow-up. I’m sorry, but Toyota sucks.”

Lawrence Ingrassia, the business editor, said reporters have always complained to one another, about irritations at work, sometimes vividly, but when they do it “to the world, live, I think it’s unacceptable.” I would have pulled Tabuchi from the Toyota story, but Ingrassia said he decided not to because what she wrote indicated she was upset with the company’s press arrangements, not prejudiced against it or its products. He said he saw no bias in her reporting and had received no complaints about it.

Perhaps I'm alone in this, but Ingrassia's point about the newsroom banter actually suggests to me that we should encourage journalists to tweet about stuff like this. Unless they're emotionless human beings incapable of forming thoughts*, journalists are going to have opinions on a variety of issues related to the topics they cover -- even if it's just the press arrangements. Perhaps a journalist will block out experiences like this when writing her story**, but, if not, readers deserve to know about what could be shaping the reporter's opinion.

Further, what is the cost in making public thoughts journalists already parade around the newsroom? Certainly, it won't help with the persistent charges of bias levied against the press***--but those are going to continue anyway. For readers that understand and appreciate the media, this will serve as a welcome show of respect for their intelligence.

* I will not dispute this is within the range of possibility for some...
** And I'm not certain that the press accommodations aren't relevant in this situation. Given the problems Toyota is having, one would hope they would show some respect for those that want answers about safety from them.
*** A topic best saved for another time