A Simple Game Of 19th Century Chess

Most of the games weren't great. You're not supposed to say that. You're supposed to think the games were great because we were starved of college football for eight months and, like a Bedouin staggering around The Arabian Desert, the mere existence of possible water means that the water is cool and refreshing.

But most of the games weren't great. Georgia, Miami, Penn State, UNLV (?) and Oklahoma State manhandled opponents who were mostly expected to keep things close. Texas, Alabama, Ole Miss, Ohio State and Tennessee won by a combined score of 312-9. Also, Iowa scored 40 points. Against another team. Comprised of actual people.

(Aside: The country seems to have just now discovered Cam Ward in spite of his incredible talents already having been on full display in 2023 against Top 25 teams, because they are now on display via a program that specializes in braggadocio and attention that the media devours, as opposed to a program that doesn't have a very wealthy fanbase or attractive geographic footprint that makes it lucrative enough to pay attention to. Sometimes, the ruthless efficiencies of Capitalism bring about some unfortunate inefficiencies).

The games weren't that great, and we're equating "good" with "at all close," until the evening slate. Notre Dame and Texas A&M put on a predictably tight, defensive showing in an electric atmosphere that the Irish won in the closing moments. Fresno State gave Michigan a game in the Big House (final score and Will Johnson Pick Six be damned) that no one expected.

UCLA and Hawaii played a very close game of something akin to football, which caused a friend's wife passing through the living room to question wether the Clarence T.C. Ching Complex was hosting a high school game. Abilene Christian(!) pushed Texas Tech to the absolute brink in overtime, losing 52-51. Sisters of the Perpetual Doormat, the Idaho Vandals, took a buy game against a top opponent and for once, didn't lose 58-6, instead choosing to keep within three points of Oregon midway through fourth quarter.

With Week 1 in the rearview mirror, we shift to some of the stories that caught our eye this week, including:

• Saban Re-Telegraphing The Timing Of His Exit
• Montana Players Offering NIL Money To Endorse Politician, Politician Denying Knowledge Of Offer
• The Notre Dame Swim Team Betting On Itself... At Its Own Sportsbook
• The Big 12 Taking A Potential Page Out Of The NFL's Book
• San Jose State and TruTV: A Tru Degenerate's Alliance

Instead Of Applauding Every Time Nick Saban Breathes, Applaud The Timing of His Exit From The Game

In the 19th Century, a Prussian nobleman redesigned a variant of chess called Kriegsspiel.

Realizing its direct applicability to military training, he swapped out the board and pieces for a larger, customizable, three-dimensional playing space designed to emulate specific terrain and real-life combat conditions.

The Prussian King, Wilhelm, thought this was neat. He invited the nobleman to put on a game at the nobleman's house (flex). It would be viewed by society's elite. This seems as if it could have been one of those sneakily high-stakes deals like where if the jester doesn't properly entertain the king he gets guillotined, or like where Joe Pesci asks you to tell him a joke.

But the game was well-received. It lasted several weeks and attendees filtered in and out over that period to observe and keep up with the score, which the nobleman tabulated.

Legend has it that the playing field was so expansive that all cats had to be banished from the home so that they wouldn't disrupt the game pieces.

Within the confines of this example (and not the broader framework of making a moral judgment about his life) Nick Saban is sort of a cross between the nobleman and King Wilhelm. He embodies the former's devotion to the science of tactics and strategy, and carries the latter's aura of raw power and influence.

But in the world of college football coaching that Saban left at the end of last season, the cats aren't kept out of the room.