Other than money…recent history shows realignment tends to lose more than it gains — some of those losses seemingly being for good.
(This is the last of a three-part series covering the wreckage from the latest round of conference realignment. Here are the links to Part One and Part two.)
Simply put, rivalries are the lifeblood of college football.
One win can help emotionally salvage an otherwise abominable season. One loss can put an interminable stink on what should have been a year to cherish forever.
Bragging rights sustain the winners through the dog days of the offseason, and the promise of a chance to exact revenge upon a rival in the season to come is all the ‘carrot’ the losing side needs dangled before it in order to help bridge the year-long wait between meetings.
But now that another round of conference realignment threatens to tear away huge swaths of that intrinsic fabric of the sport, I thought I’d take a look at how such change in the modern era has already affected the game we love.
The most obvious parallel for examination takes us back about a decade or so to the 12 schools involved in the most recent mass wave of power conference realignment.
For those of you with sketchy memory that includes the ACC’s additions of Pittsburgh, Syracuse and Louisville, TCU and West Virginia to the Big 12, Nebraska, Maryland and Rutgers to the Big Ten, Colorado and Utah to the Pac-12, and Missouri and Texas A&M to the SEC — all of the moves executed over a four-year span from 2011–2014.
In an effort to remain as objective as possible, why don’t we first look at the positives of these changes in conference affiliation as it pertains to new and exciting rivalries that would’ve never been realized without them.
Because surely it must be that easy, right?
Gains? What gains?
Starting with the ACC, it shocks me to report that I’d sooner come up with a compliment for Twitter’s recent idiotic rebranding efforts than I would a legitimate, newfound rival for any of Pittsburgh, Syracuse or Louisville since joining the league.
There have certainly been some memorable games played by the trio, but I honestly cannot think of a single budding rivalry that has developed since they arrived via the Big East (Pitt/Syracuse in 2013) and American Athletic Conference (Louisville in 2014) respectively.
In theory one could argue the ACC did gain a net-rivalry in that Pitt and Syracuse had played every year since 1955 — first as independents and then as members of the old Big East — but I doubt that was at the forefront of the conference’s mind when it extended the two of them invitations.
The same could be said for Syracuse and Boston College, who faced off in all but two seasons spanning 1961–2004. That series was only put on pause after the Golden Eagles jettisoned to the ACC first and wouldn’t resume for good until the Orange would follow that same path nine years later.
Hell, before doing some pretty extensive research for this piece neither of these two series registered with me as ‘rivalries’ in the popular sense of the word. But even if they well and truly do for the fanbases involved, the ACC doesn’t get any credit for that in the bigger picture.
The track had already been laid down for those two series across the decades prior, long before a move to the ACC was even being considered, much less to ultimately occur.
When it comes to the Big 12’s additions of TCU (Mountain West) and West Virginia (Big East) circa 2012 it’s pretty slim pickings once again.
I suppose the Horned Frogs have a fairly significant distaste for the University of Texas because, well, it’s Texas.
(Of course, that will cease to manifest on the field once the Longhorns leave for the SEC next year.)
Meanwhile, they’d already played Baylor a whopping 107 times prior to becoming Big 12 foes — the majority of those coming as fellow members of the old Southwest Conference.
To a lesser extent, the same can be applied to Texas Tech, whom TCU squared off with annually from 1958–95 in the SWC.
In my estimation you’d have to be an awfully lenient grader in order to award the Big 12 much in the way of credit for TCU ‘gaining’ rivalries here. The foundations for those series were in place long before the conference was even a twinkle in college football’s eye.
West Virginia requires far less context. Not only were/are they obscenely outside of the traditional conference geographic footprint, but I couldn’t name a credible rival that they’ve found since entering the league eleven years ago.
Huh, I wonder if those two things might be connected..?
Moving on to the Big Ten I’m sure it's nothing but sheer coincidence that its two 2014 conference debutants Maryland and Rutgers — added pretty much admittedly/exclusively for their metropolitan TV markets — have yet to establish one lick of enduring hostility toward any of the other conference members.
And if they have done so, those feelings have yet to register in any way significant enough to be reciprocated, in no small part because their prowess on the field of play hasn’t exactly warranted much attention.
Conversely, everyone in the conference probably shares at least some level of disdain for Nebraska and its vociferous fanbase that, despite two-plus decades worth of evidence to the contrary, has still largely carried itself with an arrogance fit for the dynastic, perpetual title-contending program that it hasn’t even approached, much less actually been since before the days of widespread high-definition television.
The Huskers — Big Ten members since 2011 — have also found what would appear to be a genuinely brand-new, long-term rival on the field in the neighboring Iowa Hawkeyes. The two schools had very minimal contact in the post-World War II era but have seemed very much eager to antagonize one another now that they share the same league membership.
If you’re keeping score at home, I believe that’s the first ‘win’ we can officially chalk up to conference realignment in terms of adding lasting, emotionally enriching value to the sport of college football.
Don’t let realignment get hot, folks! All streaks start at one!
And thanks to the Pac-12 that’s where this streak ends too…
(Whoops.)
That’s what happens when Colorado and Utah have yet to make any true enemies since joining the league back in 2011, albeit for various reasons.
Plain and simple, the Buffaloes have stunk too much for anyone else in the Pac-12 to pay them any mind.
And though the Utes have become a perennial force, playing in three of the past four conference championship games — winning in both 2021 and 2022 — the program itself is seemingly so salt of the earth that it can’t engender intense negative feelings other than perhaps jealously over its consistent success.
A competitive measuring stick? Absolutely. But a ‘rival’ Utah would not appear to be truly viewed as.
Of course, unbeknownst to me the matchup between the two newbies is apparently dubbed the ‘Rumble in the Rockies.’ But after meeting 57 times from 1903–1962 the programs wouldn’t clash again for another 49 years until 2011 when they both joined the Pac-12.
Even with my appreciation for the history of the sport I don’t think anyone on either side of ‘Buffs/Utes was throwing a party at the prospect of finally rekindling the long-lost series as fellow conference members.
So again, go ahead and credit realignment for a ‘rivalry’ added/reborn if you’d like. I just can’t personally get there with this one.
The SEC will close out our quintet of conference case studies, demonstrating a tale of two schools.
First up, the Missouri Tigers.
Unfortunately, M-I-Z-Z-O-U hasn’t exactly built out a robust collection of rivals since arriving in the Southeastern Conference circa 2012. In fact, it probably doesn’t have a single league-mandated matchup that has caught on with any real fervor.
If you’re looking for those the Tigers left pretty much all of them behind in the Big 12 (more on that in a bit).
On the other hand — and somewhat similarly to the aforementioned Nebraska — it feels like Texas A&M manages to stir up a fair degree of contempt from whichever schools it happens to call fellow conference members at any given time.
The Aggies, with far less of a long lost ‘high horse’ to fruitlessly sit upon than even the Huskers, have come into the SEC and jumpstarted a pair of spiteful, annual matchups with neighboring state schools Arkansas and LSU.
That said, just as we’ve seen elsewhere neither of these two budding modern rivalries were created out of whole cloth thanks to realignment.
A&M versus Arkansas was hardly bereft of prior historical significance when the Aggies followed the ‘Hogs to the SEC two decades after the latter had made its own switch from the Southwest Conference.
Turns out having met in 58 consecutive years from 1934–91 as SWC foes was a pretty good foundation to build upon when the two schools became league-mates once again in 2012.
Meanwhile, I was struck to discover a unique, shared history between A&M and LSU that was not predicated on shared conference affiliation.
The schools matched wits a dozen times across the 24-year period following their inaugural meeting in 1899 — a brief five-game stretch from 1906–14 as fellow SIAA (Southern Intercollegiate Athletic Association) members being the only time pre-SEC that it wouldn’t be as non-conference opponents.
A 19-year hiatus would follow that, only for them to clash on 27 more occasions spanning 1942–1975.
Then another 11-year break, before a decade’s worth of battles from 1986–95.
Once again, the ‘pause button’ was hit, and the two sides wouldn’t meet again until the 2011 Cotton Bowl. But a year later things were back on for good as the Aggies joined the Tigers in what has widely been considered to be the toughest division in college football ever since — the SEC West.
As you can see it’s a pretty bleak picture in terms of modern realignment’s track record of fostering actual ‘new’ college football rivalries.
At best I’d give the early 2010s a sarcastic pat on the back for its efforts.
I count Nebraska-Iowa as the singular affair appearing set to sustain in its antagonism for years to come that was precipitated primarily by realignment.
And due to this reality, we as college football fans clearly aren’t looking at a net-positive gain in terms of rivalries realized over the past 13 years. Which conversely means that our very best hope was for the shift in landscape to have been more like a net-zero.
But as I’m about to spotlight, things couldn’t be much further from the truth.
That which we’ve lost (and there’s been a lot of it) doesn’t tend to return — and that’s only the beginning…
Of the 12-pack of programs I’ve highlighted that were the major movers of the last significant round of modern conference realignment, numerous historical rivalries have all but ceased entirely in the wake of their respective migrations to leagues elsewhere.
You can go look it up in the record books for yourself, or if you’re not so inclined Scott Dochterman of The Athletic wrote an excellent piece that published just before everything hit the fan with the Pac-12/Big 12/Big Ten late last month that’s worth your checking out.
In it, he similarly categorizes the rivalries within this sport to have been affected by past realignment — albeit going back decades further even than my current peek at the 2010s.
And wouldn’t you know it, the empirical data tells the same story.
Truly contemporary rivalries to form courtesy of realignment are exceedingly rare.
There’s a reason why it has typically taken years and years of shared history, conference/geographic continuity, not to mention good old-fashioned pettiness and animosity in order for the most acclaimed rivalries in this sport to become what we know them as today.
Again, Dochterman catalogues pretty much all of the hits and then some, whereas I’m only going to touch on those pertaining to the dozen schools we’ve already mentioned here.
I’d highly encourage you to go out and read his piece in full — even if he himself couldn’t quite keep up with the breakneck pace at which the landscape continues to shift:
Now let’s revisit that ACC trio once more:
We discussed what Pitt has failed to gain since leaving the Big East in 2013, so how about what is has sacrificed?
The Backyard Brawl with West Virginia would seem like a pretty good place to start, I mean being that it was played in 68 consecutive seasons from 1943–2011, becoming one of the fiercest rivalries in the sport.
Now the two programs and their 105-year shared history have met just once (2022) since — though I suppose like a scorned lover Pitt could argue that technically West Virginia broke up with it first as the Mountaineers bailed for the Big 12 (2012) a year prior to the Panthers joining the ACC.
What’s even worse though — and a theme you’ll keep seeing as you read further — is that Pitt didn’t just stop playing WVU, but has more or less turned a cold shoulder to its old Big East mates altogether.
Including the coming season Pitt will have played just three games against schools from its former conference in the last 11 years (WVU twice and Cincinnati once) with all three occurring in 2022–23.
Not to be outdone, Louisville undercuts that mark with a lone meeting against South Florida (2022) tying it back in any way to the league it once called home.
Meanwhile, for Syracuse the tally will sit at a half-dozen as the Orange have seen USF, Connecticut and Rutgers on six combined occasions since 2013.
And laudable though those efforts may be in some sad way, it’s worth noting that strictly speaking none of the aforementioned games were against ‘Big East opponents.’ That’s because following mass defections (both completed and announced) the Big East would no longer exist as a football playing conference after the 2012 season.
Sound familiar, Pac-12 fans?
Switching over to the Big 12 it’ll be short and sweet summation:
TCU hasn’t scheduled a single member of the Mountain West Conference since bolting from the league in 2012. The first one it will actually play is BYU this October, and the only reason that is happening is because the Cougars just joined the Horned Frogs in the Big 12 —this after having spent the past 11 years as an Independent upon leaving the MWC themselves.
And West Virginia’s only contact with the old Big East (RIP) was the aforementioned games with Pitt this year and last.
That’s uh, not great.
As we enter the increasingly nebulous meaning of ‘Big Ten country’ it’s probably only fair to start with the lone semi-geographical fit amongst the recent realignment bunch — Nebraska.
The losses?
Oh, I don’t know, I suppose just every single Big Eight/Big 12 opponent and/or rival with whom they spent the better part of a century taking the field against.
Anywhere from 70 to 100-plus meetings encapsulate the deep-seeded ties Nebraska shares with the likes of Colorado, Kansas, Kansas State, Missouri and Oklahoma. A number of those series (especially with Oklahoma) happen to coincide with some of the most influential moments in the history of the sport — see the “Game of the Century.”
Its lone connective tissue to that bygone era in the 12 years since was a home-and-home between the Huskers and Sooners in 2021–22.
Conversely, I struggle to identify a true rival for Maryland anywhere (on the gridiron that is), but if they had any they’ve all remained back in the ACC — you know, where the Terrapins should still be.
For instance, 148 combined meetings with Virginia and North Carolina State sit unattended on the proverbial conference realignment ‘cutting room floor.’
And that makes the Wahoos and Wolfpack just like pretty everyone else with ‘ACC’ next to their name, as Maryland’s only matchups with its former league since jumping ship are (sort of) a pair against Syracuse, with whom it shared ACC status for one whopping season in 2013.
If you’ve been paying attention to how things work around here…
Which leaves us with Rutgers.
I can’t in good conscience make the case for any meaningful rivalry the Scarlet Knights have lost touch with since 1980, just as I can’t in good conscience make the case that three games against Temple (2021–23) should qualify as ‘games versus opponents from one’s former league’ given their shared AAC membership lasted all of four months.
The best I can do is sarcastically tip my cap to “The State University of New Jersey” for the gumption to schedule Boston College in 2019 and 2022 given they once met every year from 1981–2004 in the old Big East.
(I’m stretching so much right now it hurts.)
Taking our journey to the pacific coast, Colorado shares a lovely trait with Nebraska in that it too, left all of its meaningful Big Eight/Big 12 belongings (and rivalries) behind back in 2011.
Where it failed to duplicate Nebby’s approach was that the Buffaloes couldn’t even be bothered to schedule one of their actual former Big 12 foes in the decade-plus since. Instead, Colorado took the easy way out and nabbed a home-and-home with TCU for 2022–23, whom at best it passed like a stampede in the night as the ‘Buffs were taking a mountain trail westward to the Pac-12 the year prior to TCU’s own journey from the Mountain West to the Big 12.
On the other hand, Utah has played against former and/or current MWC affiliated institutions on numerous occasions, whether they’d shared actual time in the league with the Utes (BYU and San Diego State) or not (Utah State, Fresno State and San Jose State).
So good on ya Utah.
And now come 2024 we’ll get to watch the “Holy War” as a Big 12 matchup…another thing no one was ever asking for.
Last up we revisit the SEC, where Missouri and Texas A&M have called ‘home’ since 2012.
Since their departure both the Tigers and Aggies have more or less completely severed relations with all of the schools tied to their longstanding memberships within the Big Eight and Southwest Conference respectively — many of those which also followed the pair to the Big 12 upon its formation in 1996.
That said, the ghastliest results of their latest relocation are indisputable:
For Missouri, the fact that its “Border War” rivalry against Kansas was discontinued will forever be one of the great crimes committed in the history of the sport.
Their inaugural Halloween meeting back in 1891 was the start of a 120-game series between the two schools that would only ever be interrupted by two cataclysmic events:
The first time, in 1918, by the global influenza pandemic (remember how fun those things are), and the second in 2012 by MF-ing conference realignment.
How sad is that?
What had been the second-most-played rivalry in FBS football history to that point was just gone in the blink of an eye.
We’re not really going to sit here and act like that’s OK, are we?
Meanwhile, Missouri’s only games against Big 12 schools since its league exit have been a pair with West Virginia — with whom it never shared simultaneous conference membership — and Kansas State, the latter of which it will complete the end of a 2022–23 home-and-home with this season.
And on the Texas A&M side of things there hasn’t been a bother to revisit its former conference even once post-2011.
In a way I can almost understand it, as I too would likely be unable to look even a distant (conference) relative of mine in the eye if I knew I’d already torpedoed one life-long relationship with my closest sibling in the family.
If that analogy and certain inherent context clues weren’t enough for you, what I’m referencing is the death of A&M’s once electric rivalry with the University of Texas.
Dating all the way back to 1894, the two schools — separated by just over 100 miles — duked it out a grand total of 118 times before the series was foolishly put on ice courtesy of realignment.
There simply are no words to express what a monumental loss the absence of the former Thanksgiving weekend staple has been for not only fans of the two schools, but the state and the sport of college football as a whole.
Of less (though not insignificant) importance, the Aggies also left time-honored series with fellow Texas institutions Baylor and Texas Tech behind in the wake of its SEC move, but it has overwhelmingly been the implosion of its rivalry with the Longhorns that has (justifiably) left the worst taste in people’s mouths.
- It admittedly gives me excitement, though little in the way of long-term comfort to know that the Aggies and Longhorns will finally resume their series in 2024 — once again as the result of realignment, this time seeing Texas follow A&M to the SEC 12 years after the latter made the move.
The reality of rivalries amidst realignment
After poring over old schedules and cross-checking teams with leagues and leagues with teams more times than I’d care to admit there’s really only one conclusion to be drawn from the 10–12 years' worth of data left in the wake of the most recent round of conference realignment:
The true rivalries this sport has gained are neither commensurate with the number nor the ingrained passion and significance of those which have been lost.
And not only that, but these departing schools tend to more often than not sever the vast majority of their broader, historical conference ties upon making a move.
Conscious of it or not, the dearth of games between schools and their former leagues reflects a sport that is progressively losing touch with some of the crucial elements that help to form the foundation of the beautifully exhilarating experience that it has become.
The meaning and history behind these games cannot simply be Easy-Baked into existence, nor are they as geographically immune as certain stakeholders within the sport would lead you to believe as they extol the alleged virtues of realignment.
Look, I love college football to pieces and can’t fathom a world in which that won’t continue to be true.
But I worry that as we continue down a realignment-driven route in the near future (and beyond) my love for it will only grow less and less passionate — in no small part because of all the fundamental pieces we seem either ignorant or unbothered to be leaving behind.