One of the greatest annual subplots of the NCAA Tournament in its 64-team (and 65-team) format, IMHO, is the question of whether a #16 seed will finally do the unthinkable and knock off a #1 seed. It’s never, EVER happened, and it rarely even threatens to happen, for the simple reason that #16 seeds — the champions, often the unexpected champions, of America’s worst Division I conferences — are generally just way, way, way worse than almost every other team in the tournament. Their RPIs are in the upper 100s, or even the 200s, meaning they’re literally in the bottom half of Division I. Most of ’em would probably be double-digit underdogs to a #13 or #14 seed, let alone a #1. They’d also be big underdogs to virtually every team in the NIT or CBI.
But every once in a while, a #16 makes a serious run at a #1 — think Albany against UConn a few years back, Western Carolina against Purdue in 1996, or most memorably, Princeton against Georgetown in 1989 — and the entire nation is instantly captivated. Is this the year? Is this the game? Is it really going to happen, finally? If it did happen, it would instantly become the greatest upset in college basketball history, almost by definition.
But it never does happen, not quite — not yet. (It happened in the women’s tournament in 1998, when #16 Harvard beat a #1-seeded Stanford team that was devastated by injury. But never on the men’s side.) Every year, though, there’s that hope, that ever-so-slight chance, that maybe, hopefully, finally, we’ll see the upset to end all upsets, the One Shining Moment to end all One Shining Moments, the seminal triumph of the ultimate underdog. And surely we can all agree that, however unlikely it is on paper, someday, if the NCAA Tournament continues in its current format, someday it will happen.
If the NCAA Tournament continues in its current format. Once upon a time, that seemed like a given — why would anyone mess with the greatest event in sports? Okay, maybe they’d expand it to 68 teams, the fools, which would decrease somewhat the chances of a 16-over-1 upset by forcing all of the #16-seeded Davids to endure “play-in games” before taking on Goliath two or three days later. On the other hand, such a change would also result in some higher quality teams on the #16 seed line — three teams that would otherwise have been #15s would become #16s — so that might actually improve the chances in a few cases. In any event, while perhaps somewhat less likely, a meaningful, glorious end to the #16-over-1 taboo would still be possible.
But if the tournament expands to 96 teams? Fuggedaboutit. Oh, a #16 seed would win, probably sooner rather than later. But it’d be a team like Virginia Tech or UTEP or Northwestern or Kent State — either a mediocre-to-poor major conference team, or a team near the top of a reasonably good mid-major conference. Not a Jacksonville, Stony Brook, Robert Morris, Lehigh or Jackson State — the current Lunardi-projected #16s for this year’s tourney, with RPIs #126, #157, #171, #174 and #248, respectively (and that’s before any conference-tournament upsets).
In the new format, #16 seeds would have double-digit RPIs (usually in the 50s, 60s or 70s), not triple digits. We’re talking about teams that would presently be middling NIT teams (seeded #3- to #5-ish), a dozen or so spots below the current NCAA at-large cut line: mediocre teams, but not bad teams. They’d be solidly in the top third, probably even the top quarter, of Division I college basketball. Put such a team in the current, 65-team field, and they’d be seeded #13 or thereabouts (because there is a hugely steep dropoff below the #12/13 line, as we go from at-large teams to auto-bid winners that had zero at-large hopes if they’d lost their conference tourneys).
So when the first #16 (or #17) beats a #1 in the new format, it would be surprising, perhaps even stunning, but not earth-shatteringly stunning. It’d be a big upset, a very big upset, but not the Biggest! Upset! Ever! Indeed, in terms of shock value, it would be closer to a current #9 (RPI ~40) beating a #1 than to a current #16 (RPI ~150+) doing so. And celebrating it as “the first time a #16 has beaten a #1,” as the media inevitably would do, would be venerating a cheap statistical gimmick. Sorry, but Virginia Tech beating Kentucky is just not the same thing as Morehead State beating Kentucky. Not even close.
Meanwhile, the teams currently known as #16 seeds — the Moreheads and Monmouths of the world — would become #24 seeds in the new system, and would draw #9 seeds as their opening-round opponents. (Teams seeded #1 through #8 would get opening-round byes.) This would undoubtedly hasten the day when one of these bottom-feeders wins a game; after all, instead of playing one of the four best teams in the country, they’d be playing good-but-not-great major-conference (and occasionally high mid-major) foes. But again, the accomplishment would be cheapened because, while a very big upset, it wouldn’t be against a #1 seed. It’d be a stunner, but it wouldn’t be the stunner to end all stunners. To further my above analogy, Morehead State beating #9-seed Ole Miss is just not the same thing as Morehead State beating #1-seed Kentucky. Not even close.
In order to beat a #1 seed, a #24 seed would need to first beat #9 and #8, and then, in its third game of the tournament, topple #1 (which would only have played one prior tournament game, not two). Obviously, that’s a much taller order than just pulling a single, one-off stunner (no matter how unprecedented that one-off stunner would be). The NCAA Tournament could go on for 300 years in a 96-team format, and a #24 seed might never pull off that nearly impossible trifecta.
All of which means, if the NCAA goes forward with its harebrained, wolf-face crazy expansion scheme, this might be the very last year that a #16 seed — a true #16 seed, a team with a triple-digit RPI, the champion of an awful conference, a 30+ point underdog — can end the jinx and beat a #1 seed. If it doesn’t happen this year, it may never happen, not really, not meaningfully. So I, for one, will be rooting harder than ever for the ultimate Davids to beat the ultimate Goliaths come next month.
OK, I feel like I’ve been zoning out on this topic. Is this really, actually possible? And more importantly, what happens to “One Shining Moment” if the tournament moves from CBS?
Kat: it not only seems possible, but likely at this point. And if CBS loses the tourney, no idea if ESPN gets the song or not.
The NHL recently moved to a reseeding process for later rounds of their playoffs, given the propensity for 1-8 or 2-7 type upsets, and the advantage that a 1-8 upset gives a 4/5 seed if the bracket is not reshuffled. There’s been talk of that in the NCAA, especially when more than one low seed makes the final four, but it can’t be done because the tournament derives too much of its interest from pools, which usually can’t be adjusted midstream.
Unless you get something like a #8 vs. #8 in a national semifinal, its not a big deal in the NCAAs. There were two 8s in the final four ten years ago, but they both lost in the semis. But in a 96-team tournament, reseeding becomes critical, though it will still be impossible because of the pool.
Here’s the 1/8 bracket in the West region in Stevens’ hypothetical pool:
1) Kentucky vs. 16) Va. Tech / 17) Seton Hall
8) Missouri vs. 9) UNLV / 24) Arkansas State
Suppose Seton Hall knocks off Va. Tech. Seton Hall isn’t a particularly good Big East team, but they were leading the entire first half against #2 Villanova last night, beat Pittsburgh when they were ranked #11, and lost to #6 West Virginia in overtime. Though not a #16 in Stevens’ pool, a Seton Hall type opponent should beat a Kentucky in the first round pretty much once every second year.
What about that Arkansas State/UNLV game? UNLV is a pretty good team, with an RPI of 41, while Arkansas State’s is in the mid-140s. Figure UNLV is pretty likely to win that game. But not necessarily overwhelmingly so. Figure an Arkansas State-type wins this game somewhere between once a year and once every other year.
Whenever an Arkansas State-type wins, your second round matchup will look like this:
1) Kentucky vs. 17) Seton Hall
8) Missouri vs. 24) Arkansas State
Even if Arkansas State doesn’t play the spoiler in Kentucky’s mini-bracket, some crappy, 20-something seeded team in their region will win in the first round, which in a perfect world would be reshuffled to give Kentucky the easy first-round matchup (and keep the marquee teams in the tournament for more than one game). Instead, there’s going to be a Seton Hall waiting for Kentucky.
We all want to see a #16 knock off a #1. But it has to be a true underdog.
And it shouldn’t happen that often, if it happens at all. Starting next year it will begin happening a lot. Man, is that not going to be fun.
My point exactly, Jazz.