If North Carolina Beats Clemson, Will It Still Get Screwed Out Of The College Football Playoff?

Back in May of 2013, at a time when South Carolina was coming off a pair of 11-win seasons, the University of North Carolina agreed to play the Gamecocks in Charlotte in 2015. In order to do this, the Tar Heels chose to move a previously agreed-to game against East Carolina. It was, in all respects, a scheduling upgrade, and while no one could have suspected this would have any impact on the national championship race two years later, it is one of those odd karmic twists that prove even in a "simple" year, college football has a way with butterfly effects.

The conventional wisdom is that, barring a major upset on Saturday, the College Football Playoff committee has lucked out in its second season of choosing four teams based on esoteric math and unavoidable subjectivity. The chances are that North Carolina will not beat Clemson in the ACC Championship and that Florida will get throttled by Alabama in the SEC Championship, thereby freeing the committee to pick the winners of those two games, along with Oklahoma and the victor of the Big Ten championship game.

For argument's sake, though, let's say that this doesn't happen. Let's say, in particular, that North Carolina finds a way to beat Clemson. The Tar Heels are currently 11-1 and ranked No. 10 by the committee, despite only having one loss; this means that North Carolina is currently ranked behind a pair of teams (Stanford and Florida State) with two losses. The argument from committee chair Jeff Long was that North Carolina's schedule is not particularly strong. This is partially true but also partially a bullshit excuse, because North Carolina has roughly the same strength of schedule as Ohio State, which is also 11-1 and currently ranked fifth. Also, North Carolina attempted to upgrade its schedule by playing an SEC team, and had the bad fortune of drawing a South Carolina team in the midst of a 3-9 campaign, and losing in the first week of the season; two-loss Stanford, which again is ranked ahead of North Carolina, lost to Northwestern in the first week.

Do you know what other team also lost an early-season game to foundering power program? Oklahoma, which lost to a horrendous Texas team, is ranked No. 3 and currently ensconced in the playoff by default, since the Big 12 has no championship game.

So let's not mince words here: The real reason North Carolina is ranked No. 10—deep on the fringes of playoff contention, even if they beat Clemson—is because they are North Carolina. The Tar Heels are not a national power; they are not a team with any nationally-hyped superstars; they do not yet have a signature win. They are, in short, not a team anyone expected to reach this point. But if North Carolina beats Clemson, the Tar Heels will have pulled off one of the season's most impressive victories. And if the committee somehow leaves them out even after a win like that, it will serve to prove—inadvertently or not—what many fans have suspected all along, which is that the game is rigged in favor of the power players. (Editor's note: welcome to America!) The "eye-test," as Long once accidentally termed it, still matters quite a bit.

Do I know this to be true? Absolutely not. I have no idea. But that's what's so crazy about this: in a sport that has long been marred by regional bias and subjectivity, Playoff participation decisions have now been ceded to a committee that offers no real transparency. Think FIFA, but for college football. All we know is what they tell us, and what they tell us changes from week to week. Every week, I keep waiting for the charade to collapse upon itself. Every week, I keep waiting for Long to admit that they're trying their damndest, but they're really just making it up as they go along.

In a way, I love watching Long get tongue-tied from week to week, because the heartbeat of college football is based in the ongoing argument it provides to us as fans; but in a way, it's endlessly frustrating, because the one thing I most want to see is a team emerge from out of nowhere to be afforded an opportunity.

That doesn't seem destined to happen anytime soon. Let us say all things were equal to what they are right now and Houston or Memphis or Temple had managed to go undefeated. Does anyone really think any of those teams would be in the top four? Two years in, the precedent for Playoff inclusion appears to have been set, and the precedent appears to be this: The eye-test is a crucial element, and the eye test is always going to favor teams like Oklahoma and Ohio State over teams like North Carolina.

Maybe you're fine with that. Maybe you believe, like Colin Cowherd, that the Playoff should feature the four most talented teams. Maybe you think Iowa is undeserving even if it beats Michigan State this weekend and goes undefeated, because its roster is not stocked with the talent that Ohio State has.

But that, to me, has always felt like an argument that shouldn't apply to college football in the playoff era. The competitive problem with this sport, for so long, was that the teams with the most power tended to consolidate that power by getting more attractive bowl bids and finishing higher in the polls; the whole point of the playoff was to democratize the sport by providing a path for imperfect teams to play for a championship. It's better than it used to be, but if North Carolina wins this weekend and gets locked out of the top four, it will reinforce that a committee in a locked room is capable of seeing whatever the hell it wants to see, and nothing it doesn't.