The announced attendance at FedEx Field on Labor Day night was 86,587, which I figured had to be close to a complete sell-out. From my vantage point, every last seat seemed to be occupied – and I definitely had a birds-eye view from which to make that assessment. A bird with very good eyesight.

I had secured my ticket for the college football game between the Boise State Broncos and the Virginia Tech Hokies only a couple of weeks beforehand, so I didn’t expect premiere seating. And I was right. I did a quick count of the number or rows between me and the absolute top of the stadium. One.

Despite my location high above the field though, I must admit that I had a pretty good seat. Which came in handy during time-outs. Because that was the only time I would actually be able to sit down and see anything beside other people’s backs.

Many would (and probably did) describe the environment as “spirited”, and it was certainly that. Along with drunk. This was more or less a home game for Virginia Tech, even though FedEx Field’s Landover, Maryland location is almost 300 miles away from the Blacksburg campus – a campus that I’m guessing was a virtual ghost town on this night. Each and every last Hokie student appeared to be here with me. Either that or there are a ton of Tech grads living in and around the DC area. Or both.

Wherever they had come from that night, Virginia Tech fans were out in full force. I would guess that they occupied at least 80% of the stadium. And before the game had even begun, I had already been able to jot down a cogent observation: Hokies are loud. Very loud.

At kick-off, the stadium was airplane-taking-off loud. When Boise State kicked a field goal to go up 3-0 it had diminished to eardrum-piercing loud. But when the Broncos completely stuffed Virginia Tech’s first possession, blocked their punt and scored shortly thereafter, things ratcheted down considerably – to merely extremely loud. When Boise State took the ball right back and scored again to make it 17-0? Well…not quite so loud.

Hokie fans as far as the eye could see were collectively melting into their seats. And by then the yelling was mostly at their own team. I could even start to make out the voices of the vastly outnumbered Bronco contingent across the way.

When the gun sounded to end the first quarter, this game was shaping up as a runaway win for Boise State. In addition to scoring those 17 points, the Broncos had held Virginia Tech to less than zero net yards in the quarter. This would be a dominating butt-whipping that would no doubt have those watching at home reaching for the remote early on. A real snoozer.

Which is why I was positively giddy about what was unfolding on the field far below me.

See, I love college football. Which is why I hate the BCS – which I’m told is an acronym for Bowl Championship Series, but which I know actually stands for “Because it’s Cash, Stupid”.

Somehow several years back – apparently while sports enthusiasts weren’t paying close attention – an extremely self-serving group of very large colleges and universities with very well-funded athletic departments got together over cocktails and decided to hijack college football.

They did have a good concept to start with. Instead of the ludicrous system of polling that had determined college football’s mythical “national champion” for decades, the BCS committee felt that it might be a good idea to actually have a National Championship Game. On a real field, with real players and everything!

“Bravo! Great idea!” we sports enthusiasts responded. “But how will it be determined what two teams will play in the BCS National Championship Game?”

“Don’t worry about a thing,” came the reply. “We’ll just use the existing poll system to pick them. Only we’ll use computers to make it better!”

“Outstanding!!” we cried.

“Oh, and by the way, only teams from the six conferences that we represent will actually ever be selected to play in the BCS Championship Game.”

“Come again?”

And so it came to be that, while every other sport presided over by the NCAA – including football in three smaller school divisions – uses a playoff to determine its national champion, “big time” college football uses a process co-opted from high schools selecting their Prom King and Queen. That is, if you are already popular, you are automatically in the running. If not…you are Boise State.

The Boise State Broncos finished undefeated last year, winning every one of their games in convincing fashion, including a shut-out of Oregon – the team that would go on to win the Pac-10 Championship and receive gobs of money for playing in the Rose Bowl. It was their third undefeated season in five years.

Their reward for this continued excellence is a perennial spot on the Prom King & Queen’s Court, i.e. the right to play in a generally invisible bowl game kind of near New Year’s Day – which they typically win.

I know what you’re thinking – “This system appears to be rigged”. I must admit that thought had crossed my mind on occasion as well. And I’m none too happy about it.

Which is why I have come hundreds of miles to wade through a parking lot full of empty beer cans and broken bottles on my way to Row 796. I’ve come to watch what I consider to be the college football game of the year.

To be continued…