Luck of the Draw
November 29, 2005
I know this isn't usually my thing, but the chase for the national
title this year in college football has been pretty compelling.
This week, both USC and Texas hope to extend their unbeaten
streaks in hopes of making the Rose Bowl and playing for the national
title. I know both have had a quality win or two, but does anyone
really take the Big 12 or the Pac 10 seriously as a conference?
Between those quality wins, their schedule has been stuffed with
divisional tomato cans. Both conferences have just three teams in
the top 25. Conversely, the Big 10 has five while the SEC has
five in
the top 20. Even the ACC has four teams in the top 25. So
are USC and/or Texas with their cream puff schedules really that much
better than Penn State, LSU or Virginia Tech? I don't know, but
I'd like to see a playoff system - just like there is in every other
major sport - to see for sure.
OK, enough blathering about something that's not likely to change
anytime soon... how about a couple of trivia questions along those same
lines. Only one school has won NCAA Division 1-A
championships in football,
basketball, hockey and baseball... which one is it? It's
Michigan. If you exclude hockey, Ohio State and California have
also won championships in football, basketball and baseball.
Which school
has won the most national championships in the four major
sports? Well, here ya' go: a list of the top men's collegiate
athletic programs ranked by national titles in the four major team
sports.
School
|
football
|
basketball
|
baseball
|
hockey
|
Total
|
USC
|
11
|
0
|
12
|
0
|
23
|
Michigan
|
7
|
1
|
2
|
9
|
19
|
Minnesota
|
5
|
0
|
2
|
5
|
12
|
UCLA
|
1
|
11
|
0
|
0
|
12
|
Notre Dame
|
12
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
12
|
Texas
|
3
|
0
|
6
|
0
|
9
|
Miami
|
5
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
9
|
Alabama
|
9
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
9
|
Oklahoma
|
6
|
0
|
2
|
0
|
8
|
LSU
|
2
|
0
|
5
|
0
|
7
|
Kentucky
|
0
|
7
|
0
|
0
|
7
|
Michigan
State
|
2
|
2
|
0
|
2
|
6
|
Ohio State
|
4
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
6
|
Wisconsin
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
5
|
6
|
Arizona
State
|
0
|
0
|
5
|
0
|
5
|
Nebraska
|
5
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
5
|
California
|
1
|
1
|
2
|
0
|
4
|
North
Carolina
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
4
|
Oklahoma
State
|
0
|
2
|
1
|
0
|
3
|
Stanford
|
0
|
1
|
2
|
0
|
3
|
Duke
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
Arizona
|
0
|
1
|
2
|
0
|
3
|
Stanford
|
0
|
1
|
2
|
0
|
3
|
Maryland
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
Georgia
|
1
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
2
|
Syracuse
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
The criteria for making the above list is any school that has won at
least three titles
in one sport or at least
one title in at least two sports since 1900, has at least one
championship within the last 25 years
and
has to at least be occasionally competitive in
at least two of the sports. So if you're wondering why Penn State
or Harvard or North Dakota aren't on here, now you know.
OK, so where am I going with all this? OK, there may be a couple
of detours, but I'll get there eventually.
So where was I? Oh yeah, championship teams. One of the
criteria often used to rate college championship teams, other than
their records, is the number of players on them who go on to successful
careers in the pros. For example, everyone loves USC this year
because their top two players, Reggie Bush and Matt Leinart, will
probably be the top two picks in the upcoming draft. Several
pundits have gone so far as to call this team the greatest offense in
college history. But pro
talent doesn't necessarily make a great team. If it did, LSU
would have had a basketball championship instead of an early round exit
when they had Shaquille O'Neal, Stanley Roberts, Chris
Jackson (later known as Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf) and Vernel Singleton
And no, I'm not bitter about that... well, not too bitter anyway.
Winning championships at the college level is often as
much about the coach as it is about the talent on the team.
Even then, some really good college players just don't have the goods
to make it in the bigs: Jason White, Gino Torretta, Danny Weurffel,
Andre Ware,
Archie Griffin, Johnny Rodgers, Christian Laettner, Danny Ferry, Ralph
Sampson, Shawn Abner, Phil Stephenson... there's a lot of them.
But there are other guys who might have been pretty good had they just
had a decent team to play on.
For example, Steve Arlin was named MVP
of the 1966 College World Series when he pitched five of his Ohio State
Buckeyes' six playoff games, beating USC twice and Oklahoma State for
the title. The year before they had lost 2-1 in the finals to an
Arizona State squad that featured future major league stars Sal Bando,
Gary Gentry, Rick Monday and Reggie Jackson. To get his team to
that final in 1965, Arlin made his third start in four days pitching a
15-inning, 20-strikeout, 1-0 shut-out over Washington State.
True, the game was a little
different back then (for one they played with wooden bats), but Arlin
threw hard enough and was
promising enough that he was picked in the first round of the 1966
draft by Philadelphia.
A couple of years later the Phillies left him unprotected
in the expansion draft where he was taken by the first-year
Padres. He was now on a team that was
largely comprised of everyone else's castoffs, managed by one of the
least successful managers ever, Preston
Gomez. This was a manager who on two separate occasions took
starting
pitchers out of
games in which they had thrown eight no-hit innings. In seven
seasons, he
finished last in his division six times. Not that he wasn't bad
enough, but the Padre front office had a decision to make after the
1969 season: stay with Gomez or promote one of their coaches who had
been given an offer from another NL team. They opted to stick
with Gomez and then watched while George "Sparky" Anderson managed the
Cincinnati Reds to two World Championships, and then the Detroit Tigers
to one as well. Ironically enough, the last one came at the
expense of the Padres. So... bad team with really bad
leadership. Interesting bit of trivia: Nate Colbert, who was the
first baseman on those terrible early Padre teams is not only still the
team leader in career home runs, but also one of two men to hit five
home runs in one day (the other is Stan Musial, both records coming in
double headers).
Anyway, after throwing a seven inning no-hitter in Double-A in 1967,
Arlin's professional career was unremarkable until 1971. That
year, he threw four shutouts, one short of tying for the NL lead.
The following season, he had one of the most incredible runs of great
pitching performances in history. From June 18 to July 18, 1972,
a span of eight starts, Arlin threw
three 2-hitters and two 1-hitters including one that went 10
innings. In the final game of that string - a duel against
Phillies ace Steve Carlton - Arlin took a no-hitter into the ninth and
was one strike away from immortality. But with two outs and a
two-strike count, Denny Doyle hit a chopper over the drawn in third
baseman, rookie Dave Roberts (no, not that Dave Roberts, although last
year's center fielder is the third player with that name to play for
the Padres) and eventually scored on a follow-up hit. Both
Roberts and new manager Don Zimmer (who had ordered Roberts to play
up), admitted after the game that had Roberts been playing in his usual
position, he would have had a routine play on the Doyle's ball.
That same week, Arlin had finished tenth in the voting for the All-Star
game. But just his luck, NL manager Danny Murtaugh opted to go
with only nine pitchers. All totaled, Arlin had struck out 54
batters and allowed just 0.9014
baserunners per inning
while pitching six complete games, giving up a total of 16 runs.
Despite his phenomenal pitching, his record in those eight starts was
3-4 due to poor run support, and he finished the season leading the NL
in losses with 21. In his first two full seasons in San Diego his
record was an abysmal 19-40, quite a contrast from his respectable 3.54
ERA. In 1973, he had another nice string of mid-summer starts,
throwing three shutouts in four games from June 30 to July
17. But the losing and probably the fatigue were taking
their toll. He finished with an ERA of 5.10, followed by a 1974
season that not only was worse on the field, but included a trade to
Cleveland. He left baseball that winter to pursue full-time what
he's doing today: he's a dentist with his own practice in San
Diego.
All that to tell the Steve Arlin story? Actually... yeah. I
hope you don't feel cheated, but if it makes you feel any better I do
have a point to this. Whenever the topic of great players comes
up in conversation, inevitably one of the greats is branded "a product
of the system he played in". For example, would Emmitt
Smith still have been a great running back had he played for the
Cardinals for his entire career? With guys like Walter Payton or
Barry Sanders (or LaDanian Tomlinson?) the answer would still be "yes"
because they succeeded on some pretty bad teams before playing on good
ones. But would James Worthy be considered an all-time great had
he not played on the same team as Magic and Kareem? Some might
argue that Derek Jeter has benefited greatly from being on the same
team as Mariano Rivera and some pretty talented starting staffs (not to
mention some pretty good line-ups as well). Would he still be
considered "great" had he played for the Devil Rays?
And I guess this is where Arlin comes in. Can the converse be
true? It's true that Arlin wasn't a great major league pitcher,
perhaps not even a very good one. But he clearly had enough
talent to be dominating. Could he have become an All-Star pitcher
had he been drafted by the A's or Orioles, two teams that were noted
for their pitching excellence? Even had he stayed with the
Phillies, he might have had a decent chance; Chris Short and Rick Wise
were both products of their farm system around the same time that Arlin
was developing. Are some fantastic talents finally beaten down to
mediocrity by either untalented or unmotivated or poorly coached
teams? Would Kerry Wood have a mantle full of Cy Young Awards had
he pitched in Atlanta instead of Chicago? Would Tom Glavine still
be considered a borderline Hall of Famer had he pitched for the Rangers
all these years? I'm not sure we can simply transpose the numbers
to give us the answers. To me, there is still an argument to be
made for actually watching a player, or a team, play. There are
very few players (or teams) who are
indisputably great. For the rest, it's really the luck of the
draw.