Category: Play Call

In the ever-present wintery mix, the Wisconsin Badgers’ 13-10 win over the Washington Huskies was a streak-breaker for the ages. Luke Fickell and company fought through injuries, public outcry, and the aforementioned weather to top the Huskies in a Big Ten West-esque battle in front of a few thousand of the Badgers’ most loyal supporters. This marked the first top 25 win in Fickell’s two-and-a-half-year tenure, along with the first Big Ten win in over a year. 

The reported crowd of 70,000 plus had dwindled to less than half that by the time freshman linebacker Mason Posa took down Washington quarterback Demond Williams for the game-clinching tackle. The fans who stayed had endured more than an abysmal offensive showcase; they had fought alongside their team through one of the worst stretches since the Don Morton era in Madison. 

But they never stopped believing. 

The fans who stayed ran onto the field as time expired, finally rewarded for supporting a team that had broken their hearts in every imaginable way. The hope among the crowd was that this was a turning point, and that their Badgers had fought through the rain and cold of Fickell’s tenure, with better days ahead. 

The feeling on the field was one of hope and excitement, but as with any field storm, there were critics. In the social media era, a consistent narrative has surrounded any field storm, with keyboard warriors debating the validity of any given field storm. Right on schedule, many Twitter/X users were quick to call the celebration in Madison “pathetic”, “embarrassing”, and “an overreaction” (Fox College Football).

This sentiment has no place in college football, where only a handful of teams have a chance at hoisting the ultimate title. Teams have to celebrate when they can, where they’re at and right now, Wisconsin is in a deep, deep hole. In the NIL era, most teams would dig themselves out with millions of dollars, but the Saturday field storm could be a sign of the Badgers building back more organically. 

Before NIL, teams relied on culture, facilities and quality development to attract recruits. The Badgers thrived in this landscape, turning low-rated recruiting classes full of corn-fed Wisconsin kids into nine wins, year after year. A questionable NIL strategy, ill-fitting coordinators, and several quarterback injuries led to the current state of the program, bringing a 2-6 record into Saturday. 

The spark that lit the improbable fire didn’t come from an expensive portal addition, but instead from several freshmen who didn’t plan on seeing the field this season. The freshmen linebacker duo of Mason Posa and Cooper Catalano combined for 30 tackles, while first-year, 4th-string signal caller Carter Smith ran in the lone Badger touchdown of the day. The young quarterback was especially well-received by the Badger faithful, who, in turn, helped propel their team to victory after finally being given something to cheer for. 

With the current state of the transfer portal, cynical fans have been targeting these promising Badgers as flight risks even before they stepped on the field, but Posa and Catalano have tried their best to ease these fears, reupping on their commitment to the program (SI). Getting back to a team built on home-grown talent is the only path forward for a program that likely can’t compete with the top dogs monetarily. 

Even if it didn’t look pretty, the 13-10 win reminded many fans of the way Wisconsin used to win. A suffocating defense will nearly always outperform an air-raid offense on a cold and wet Wisconsin night. More importantly, it reminds donors of a bygone era of Badger football that might just be on the way back. 

Fans of those 9-win Badger teams wouldn’t have stormed the field against 23rd-ranked Washington, but this is a new era of college football, and a new chapter for Wisconsin football. A field storm is exactly what this program and its fanbase needed to get back to Badger football. 

You can tell a lot about a person by the reason they’re screaming at their TV every Saturday. Forget Astrology, your real personality test is lying underneath your favorite football team in the Big Ten.  So, what does your favorite Big Ten team say about you? Let’s find out. 

Wisconsin: 

You’re the definition of loyal, but also probably a little too optimistic and naive. Every fall you find yourself trying to convince yourself that “this is the year.” You tailgate hard, like it’s an Olympic sport, and you’ve probably jumped around in arctic temperatures. You get too emotionally attached to fullbacks. And deep (or not so deep) down, you think you could be a better coach than Fickle, and you might be right. 

Michigan: 

You see rules as “suggestions.” You love tradition, but not more than reminding people how much better your program is than theirs. You definitely don’t have any self-esteem issues and you see LinkedIn as a competition. You’re also an only child…

Ohio State: 

You have severe main character syndrome. You think college football revolves around you. You also have been spoiled and now get mad if your team only wins by 17. You love chaos, and this is the year you’re going to beat “Xichigan.”

Penn State: 

You’re very confident. Also probably a little delusional, especially about your playoff chances, but that’s what makes you tolerable. You’re ready to talk anybody’s ear off about anything and everything. You think everybody thinks about you a lot more than they do. But points for being so community-orientated. 

Illinois: 

You’re very self aware. You’re a little more introverted than the rest of your friends, but for some reason the group still works. You know football isn’t totally your thing, but you show up anyway because your friends are here. You spend September pretending to care, but really you are ready for basketball season. 

Minnesota: 

You’re friendly and humble. You’re a middle child and super close with your grandparents. You probably wear flannel a little too early and a little too often. You live for the Axe game, and you think Gopher football doesn’t get enough respect. Coin toss to whether or not you’ve actually rowed a boat before. 

Nebraska: 

You live in the past. You are always saying “I was born in the wrong generation.” You haven’t been happy since 1997, and all of your friends miss seeing you smile. But “one good recruiting class will change everything…”

Iowa: 

You’re patient and probably a little too forgiving. You probably have a skewed idea of what “high scoring” is. You need to learn to stand up for yourself because you really deserve better. But you have Caitlin Clark, and if you’re actually from Iowa, you’re probably only two people removed from her family. 

Michigan State: 

You root for the underdog. You love to trash talk Michigan and nobody will ever forget that they’re not the only school in the state as long as you’re around. You’re also a little bit of a wildcard. Some weekends are a three day bender for you, and others you won’t step outside. You’ve had some rough moments, but you won’t give up. 

Northwestern: 

You were up reading The Atlantic before the 11am game, and at the game you were checking the stock market on your phone. You clap politely after touchdowns. The games are just a pitstop for you, most likely in between research labs. You’re probably not emotionally invested, but you’ll still make a big donation to the program as an alumni. 

Indiana: 

You were a little underappreciated in high school, but then hit a serious glow up after graduation, and now you can’t wait for your class reunion. Between basketball and football, you’re kind of the full package now. Nobody disrespects you anymore, except maybe your older cousins Michigan and Ohio State, who will never let you sit with them. 

At the end of the day, regardless of what your team says about you, whether you’re jumping around, heading to the white out, or chanting O-H, we can all agree on one thing: the Big Ten is the best conference in college sports, even if it’s not your team’s season, or past few seasons…

The Green Bay Packers have some lofty goals towards becoming a Super Bowl contender in 2025. Nearing the end of the regular season, they sit at 9-3-1, making a push for the best record in the NFC and home field advantage throughout the playoffs.

While much of the narrative has been dominated by the splash trade acquisition Micah Parsons, questions still loom about what Jordan Love’s ceiling is as a quarterback. Earlier this season, in an edition of Get Up on ESPN, former Jets and Bills head coach Rex Ryan said he “has no love for Love,” citing the third-year starter’s propensity to turn the ball over in the big moments.

In the Packers’ most recent win over the Chicago Bears, Love finished with 234 passing yards and three touchdowns, en route to reclaiming pole position in the NFC North with four weeks left to play. Still, the talking heads on ESPN felt concerned about his one first quarter interception. On First Take, former NFL MVP quarterback Cam Newton spoke further about Love’s struggles earlier in the season, especially against teams that can put pressure on the quarterback in the pocket.

Jordan Love has turned the ball over six times this season, throwing four interceptions and fumbling twice. He threw three interceptions in the Packers’ wild card loss to Philadelphia last season and the year prior, he threw a game-ending pick to end his first season as a starter in the divisional round against San Francisco.

To that point, however, do these moments simply play into Love’s style of passing? For the Packers, Love requires a different level of patience that hasn’t quite been afforded to him from people outside the building due to the pressure of the situation he came into as a starter. After fifteen seasons of unprecedentedly-clean quarterback play from Aaron Rodgers, his gunslinger prototype has been a massive change of pace in Titletown. As the team looks poised to make the postseason for the third time in as many seasons with Love at the helm, it’s time to silence those doubters.

Per Pro Football Focus, Love has 12 turnover-worthy plays this season at a rate of just 2.6 percent. That’s good enough for sixth-lowest in the NFL. Even still, for every turnover-worthy play, Love has also shown that he can make the needle-threading throws that the elite passers can make in the NFL. He currently sits at third in the NFL this season in big-time throw percentage. Only Matthew Stafford currently owns a better big-time throw to turnover worthy play ratio.

Remember what Newton said about Love’s struggles against teams that get after the quarterback? Well, the stats show he actually thrives in that department. Love owns the lowest pressure-to-sack percentage among NFC quarterbacks, displaying his ability to maneuver in the pocket and extend plays. If you can’t get him down with a four-man rush, he’s also proven time and again his poise against the blitz. According to PFF, all three of Love’s touchdowns against Chicago came against an extra man on the rush, accumulating a near-perfect 156.3 passer rating.

The league has also seen a steady decrease in aDOT (average depth of target) from passing offenses over the past few seasons. Love has proven he can buck that trend with the ability to get the ball down the field. His aDOT has consistently ranked towards the top of the league over his three seasons as the starter in Green Bay. Entering Week 15, he sits sixth on the leader board after back-to-back finishes in the top five, averaging about 9.1 air yards per target.

Jordan Love is a high risk-high reward quarterback. If the risk is he might throw an interception with seven minutes to go in the fourth, I’ll take the reward that he can lead the game-winning drive with two minutes to go instead. If volatility is the cost of greatness, the Packers should be more than thrilled to pay the price. You don’t have to play it safe to win a Super Bowl. Jordan Love has displayed his ability to show up for his team in the big moments. This January, it’s time to prove it to the rest of the league.

In the landscape of Division 1 hockey you have your powerhouses like the Penn States and Michigans of the Big10, and then you have the ECAC: A League combined of half Ivy’s and half non Ivy’s. Half give scholarships, NIL and are NCAA champs, and half are your average poor little Ivy’s with zero NIL and zero athletic scholarships to give. Forget about winning their own league, but the NCAA tournament? It seems impossible. 

The level of stars aligning to have enough good players, team chemistry, and ability to develop players when the transfer portal exists is incredibly low odds. In a world of D1 hockey where the rich are getting richer (and by rich I mean literally, just look at how much Penn State paid Gavin McKenna) there lies the ECAC, a conference home to Ivy’s like Princeton who fight to stay above .500 and Quinnipiac who wins National Championships. 

But, looking back on my original thoughts on the topic, it seems I may soon need to revise my previously unwavering stance. While I believe the Ivy’s to remain the pretentious academic type who are too proud to pay (says the child of a Brown grad — yes the alumni are annoyingly prideful), I saw their downfall loom in the distance. 

Because this is what would happen, I see this scenario with my own eyes constantly: A new stud freshman player comes in. He gets all the minutes, scores all the goals, and stands out in every aspect. So, the NHL calls and a Big 10 program throws thousands at him (pocket change). Then the portal opens at the end of their team’s piss poor playoff run. Goodbye star player, goodbye any hopes, and goodbye to the thought of bringing in more stars next season to make the entire team better. Rinse. Repeat. The cycle never ends. The average stay average.

Good players used to pick Ivy’s for academics, the hope that they will get lots of minutes freshman year, not having to sit on the star teams bench waiting for NHL bound teammates to get drafted so they can climb the ranks. If you were 21 years old (thanks junior hockey), now you’re a freshman, you’re a star, you committed to an Ivy when you were younger and less developed. Now you see your old junior teammates living in luxury high rises with seemingly infinite money to toss around and you are stuck with 15 dollars in per-diem on your weekly weekend road trips. Sucks, huh. 

But, that is the Ivy world, they can’t offer you much else besides the 6 figure job you’ll earn once you graduate. If you’re good enough that NHL teams want you, why would you stay and live in squalor when you could transfer and get paid to play the sport you love? For many it’s a no brainer. So yes, that is why I was going to die by my stance that the Ivy’s will never be able to develop talent far enough to compete and win the NCAAs. 

But, Dartmouth Hockey is catching my attention. They are winning. A lot. And they are making me second guess everything I just said. 

How is Dartmouth 10-0? Ten and zero? The only team in the top 20 that’s undefeated? Oh, and they’re ranked 8th in the country right now. 

It’s just baffling, I know. But, I invite you to watch them play, I mean hell. They have depth, they are fast, confident. They beat all their non-ranked ECAC opponents by multiple goals. They look like they are having so much damn fun. 

So now I ask: What if the Ivy League is just evolving? Survival of the fittest, darwinism, adapt and survive perhaps? 

Looking forward, it’s not like they can out spend anyone (they’re broke). But, the Ivy’s might just become a place players look who are chasing that NHL dream and still want the Ivy diploma for bragging rights. Maybe? I could be wrong here, but if these teams build legacy and reputation around strong team chemistry and stand-out coaches, it just might prove that culture can play against cash. I mean don’t they say money doesn’t buy happiness? 

I personally cannot wait to see how Dartmouth does in the second half of the season. Who will be the team to upset them? (I personally hope it’s Brown, I am my father’s daughter after all.) 

I believe we are actively watching a league fighting to stay relevant change the way the transfer portal is looked at. Or, we could see that the Ivy’s never dominate again and this is a one-off season. But, who knows. Maybe the Ivy League isn’t destined to be permanent outcasts in the wild west of NIL, but instead can be an example that there are other ways to win besides deep pockets.  

The Ivy’s may now define a new kind of player, ones who are thinkers, dedicated to more than just hockey, these standout team culture guys. I think Dartmouth has a chance to put the Ivy’s on the map this season and make their potential NCAA tournament run all the more impressive by defying the new age of college hockey but doing it with zero NIL and zero athletic scholarships; just pure developed talent and culture. 

If they pull this off, it will be a statement to the entire hockey world and show that you do not in fact need to pay a player (a rumored) $700,000 to play big time hockey.

March Madness captivates everyone — from diehard basketball junkies to people who don’t watch a minute of the sport all year. No tournament is perfect, but March Madness sits on a pedestal as one of the greatest events in sports. For all of its glory, there are folks around college basketball advocating for an expansion of the NCAA Tournament, adding to the current field of 68 teams. Simply put, expanding March Madness would be a mistake and is unnecessary.

The strength and competitiveness of the field is the backbone of the tournament’s credibility, and expansion wouldn’t improve it. According to online college basketball insider T3 Bracketology, via direct message on X (Twitter), “If we added [eight] teams, based on the bubble since [March Madness] expanded to 68 teams, 72 percent would be high majors, & more than half of those high majors went .500 or worse in [conference] play.” 

If a 76-team format had been in place for the 2025 NCAA Tournament, it would have pushed teams like Indiana, which went 10-10 in Big Ten play and was bounced in the opening round of the conference tournament, and Ohio State, which barely finished above .500 at 17-15, into the field. Even with a 68-team field, schools with losing conference records like Oklahoma and Texas at 6-12 in the SEC, along with North Carolina at 1-12 in Quad 1 games, still made the tournament. 

Adding more teams to the tournament wouldn’t strengthen the field; rather, it would just guarantee more spots for mediocre and undeserving power-conference programs. If expansion meant giving bids to strong mid-major teams that fall short in their conference tournaments, like UC Irvine last season or 2024 Indiana State — both of which went 17–3 in league play and finished with 32 wins — it would be far more appealing. But there’s no indication that would actually happen. 

There is a certain pageantry and prestige associated with March Madness that expansion would erode. In the words of Connecticut head coach and two-time national champion Dan Hurley, “It’s a privilege to play in this tournament, not a right.”

Supporters of expansion often point to revenue, but that argument is overstated. Looking at it from the perspective of college programs and the NCAA, the monetary principles associated with March Madness are widely misunderstood. 

Seth Davis, a college basketball media personality, dismisses the notion that expansion would be for money: “For starters, NCAA Tournament revenue makes up less than five percent of athletic budgets at power conference schools. Expanding the field would barely make a dent in their bottom line. And there are substantial costs involved. More teams means more money spent on travel (the NCAA provides each team with a chartered aircraft unless it’s close enough to travel by bus), hotels, game operations and the like… Doing a little better than break even is not reason enough to expand the tournament.” Davis is one of the most outspoken supporters of expansion, but even he rebuffs the financial narrative of growing the tournament.

So there are economic questions from the NCAA’s point of view for expansion, but what about television deals and ratings? The First Four, the “play-in” games for March Madness, has seen its viewership down in recent years, so is the solution to add more mediocre matchups to drive up exposure and television revenue? It is not. The success of March Madness ratings is not just focused on fans of participating teams, but also predicated on the casual fan. Casual fans love filling out brackets and watching the early rounds to track their success, but they aren’t necessarily dedicated viewers of basketball.

“It overcomplicates [March Madness] for the common fan,” T3 Bracketology said. “Right now on bracket sites you don’t even fill in the First Four. The easy math cut of 64 to 32 to 16 to etc. is easy on the brain for a casual fan. Adding more games just makes it more complex and you could lose some people. 60-100 million people fill out a bracket, but just over eight million watch the first round. The hope is to grow that conversion rate and grow the audience during the regular season, not complicate matters and decline that.”

Adding more teams, therefore more games, could take away from the simplicity of making brackets and deter casual fans from tuning in as intently to “The Big Dance,” which ultimately would not result in a great surplus of revenue or interest.

Fortunately, nothing is imminent, and expansion, at this moment, is just a talking point. But as ESPN analyst Jay Bilas said, “Never underestimate the NCAA’s capacity to do something stupid.” If the NCAA wants to avoid doing something stupid, keeping the bracket at 68 teams is a good place to start.

MADISON ~ Watch an NBA game today, and you see a blur of possessions. Guards sprint into pull-up threes within seconds of crossing half-court. Big men float to the perimeter instead of battling in the paint. Scores climb past 120 points almost nightly. The pace is relentless, the spacing is wide, and the defense is an afterthought.

I used to love the NBA. In the mid-2010s, I followed it closely, but the game has changed so much that I find myself turning to college basketball instead. College still values defense, toughness, and balance. The NBA has tilted so far toward offense that defense no longer defines the sport.

The numbers back this up. In the 1990s, teams averaged about 101 points per game. By the 2022–23 season, that number had jumped to 114.2, the highest since 1969–70. This season, teams are averaging over 115 points. That is not a small shift. It is a structural change in how the league operates.

Rule changes paved the way. The hand-check ban in 2004 stripped defenders of the ability to steer ball handlers. The defensive three-second violation, introduced in 2001, forced big men out of the paint. Freedom of movement rules protect offensive stars, making it harder to apply physical pressure. Each change tilted the balance toward offense.

Analytics reinforced the trend. Teams embraced efficiency models that reward threes and layups. The Houston Rockets under Daryl Morey became the poster child for this approach, abandoning mid-range shots almost entirely. The Warriors perfected it, turning Stephen Curry’s shooting into a weapon that reshaped the league. Defense was left scrambling to adapt, but the math always favored offense.

Compare eras and the difference is clear. The 1990s New York Knicks built their identity on defense. Patrick Ewing anchored the paint, and the team thrived on physicality. Games were low-scoring, ugly, and tough. That was basketball’s balance. Contrast that with the 2010s Golden State Warriors. Their dynasty was built on offense-first principles. Curry and Klay Thompson stretched defenses to the breaking point. Draymond Green was a defensive leader, but his role was the exception, not the rule. The Warriors won by overwhelming opponents with shooting and pace.

Individual defenders still matter, but they are rare. Jrue Holiday’s perimeter defense, Marcus Smart’s intensity, and Rudy Gobert’s rim protection prove that defense can swing playoff series. Yet these players stand out precisely because defense is no longer the norm. They are specialists in a league that celebrates offense.

The question is what this means for fans. Some enjoy the scoring. Highlight reels are full of threes and dunks, and casual viewers love it. But others, like me, miss the balance. College basketball still rewards defense. Watching a team grind out stops feels meaningful. In the NBA, defense feels optional until the postseason.

This shift raises bigger questions. If defense no longer matters, what happens to the league’s identity? The NBA risks becoming a spectacle of offense without the tension that defense provides. Fans who grew up on gritty battles like Knicks vs. Heat or Pistons vs. Spurs may feel alienated. Younger fans may never know that side of the sport.

The NBA is not unwatchable, but it is unbalanced. Offense dominates, defense survives in pockets, and the game feels different. I loved the NBA when defense mattered. Now, I find myself seeking balance elsewhere. The league has chosen entertainment over equilibrium. That choice attracts casual fans but distances those who value the grind. If defense continues to fade, the NBA will remain popular, but it will no longer feel like the same sport.

The Los Angeles Dodgers didn’t just win the pennant this October; they won the payroll lottery again. Their $169 million luxury-tax bill alone tops the entire payroll of 16 Major League Baseball teams. That single stat captures why the sport’s competitive balance is broken, and why the only realistic fix is to adopt both a salary cap and a salary floor.

The greatest strength of a league like the NFL is its parity and unpredictability. USA TODAY recently noted that in 35 straight seasons, at least four NFL teams have reached the playoffs after missing them the year before. Through Week 9 this year, seven such turnaround teams sit at .500 or better. 35 games have featured winning scores in the final two minutes or overtime, representing 26% of all games played (through week 9).

In short, any fan base can have hope in the preseason. Thanks to a hard salary cap and a spending floor that forces every franchise to invest competitively, the NFL resets itself each year. The draft, schedule, free agency, and cap rules all work together to produce parity.

The same can not be said for the MLB, however. For the fifth time in the last 10 seasons, the team with the highest payroll has reached the World Series. Since 2016, all but one World Series has featured at least one top-five payroll club, and this is no coincidence, as the biggest markets continue to be the biggest spenders and winners.

Without a cap or a floor, the MLB has drifted toward feudalism or almost a form of capitalism. Big-market powerhouses like the Dodgers and Yankees hoard stars and swallow luxury-tax penalties that would bankrupt smaller clubs. Meanwhile, low-budget teams such as the Athletics and Marlins can hide behind “rebuilding” cycles while spending less on their entire roster than what a single player in New York or Los Angeles costs. This is why USA TODAY called the sport “a social experiment gone wrong.” When the Yankees’ $62.5 million luxury-tax bill nearly equals the Athletics’ entire payroll, the notion of competition starts to feel like a joke. Fans of small to mid-market teams know their fate before Opening Day.

A hard cap doesn’t punish success; it instead protects competition. It forces front offices to rely on scouting, development, and creativity, using some Moneyball ideals. Under a cap, signing a megastar means letting another walk. Teams must actually build rather than buy dynasties. Critics argue that restricting payroll limits players’ earning power. This is true to some extent, but it also broadens opportunity. When more teams can afford top talent, the free-agent market widens and careers grow longer. The NFL’s system, for example, has not left its players starving by any means.

The flip side is equally vital. A spending floor ensures owners can’t coast on profit-sharing or public subsidies while fielding bargain rosters. The Athletics’ John Fisher and the Brewers’ Mark Attanasio exemplify the problem, as petty owners who sacrifice talent to benefit themselves financially. A floor compels them to reinvest in product quality like the players, facilities, and communities that sustain the sport. If the Packers, who operate in the NFL’s smallest market, must spend at least 90 percent of the cap, why shouldn’t the Brewers?

Baseball’s competitive imbalance trickles down across all levels. Youth participation in baseball is dwindling, losing kids to lacrosse and other sports. When a 10-year-old fan of the hometown Pirates or Reds knows they will never truly contend, fandom fades. The NFL overtook baseball as America’s pastime not because it markets better, but because every fan base matters. A cap-and-floor model could reignite national engagement.

The current model guarantees labor tension, as  USA TODAY warned of a looming work stoppage. A more balanced system might reduce short-term payouts, but it would enlarge the product long-term, with higher ratings, broader fan bases, and more sustainable franchises. 

The NFL’s formula proves that parity sells. Fans tune in because the underdog always has a shot. Baseball, meanwhile, remains a gated community for the rich. Success should depend on roster design, player development, and timing, not on how many commas appear in a team’s payroll.