It happens early in the life cycle of any American sports fan getting into European soccer for the first time: the “Oh wow, relegation is amazing” realization, followed pretty quickly by the “We should have this in [insert favorite sport]!!” declaration. Promotion and relegation is an incredible concept, a way of inserting meritocracy into a widespread and popular sport, and it is absolutely foreign to American sports. Even Major League Soccer has resisted it, and it’s a soccer league! With 29 teams!
Still, the concept is ripe for what-if exercises, especially within college sports, where conference membership is often based less on merit and more on which neighbors you were playing against 90 years ago.
I do not say this as a brag — the opposite, perhaps — but I’m confident in saying that I have thought more and written more words about relegation in college football than anyone on the planet. (So, somany words.) As a frequent writer in both the college football and European soccer realms, I feel the two sports are ridiculously similar. Both are territorial sports, and in both, the historical rabbit holes are almost as endless as the financial inequalities and endlessly disappointing leadership.
Unlike soccer, though, college football remains relegation free. For now. At least one conference is considering changing that. Oregon State and Washington State — as it stands, the only two teams that will be remaining in the Pac-12 next summer when a round of conference realignment decimates the conference — have been in discussions with the Mountain West about creating a football alliance of schools that could feature multiple tiers of teams that are promoted and relegated between tiers based on conference finish.
I have waited a long time for this moment. If you’ve wasted countless hours of your life thinking about something, the least you can do is share some of those thoughts when they become even slightly relevant. So let’s talk about how relegation could work in college football.
First things first: How does this work in soccer?
Let’s start with the basics, just in case you aren’t one of those burgeoning soccer converts mentioned above. Throughout most continents — not just Europe — soccer tiers are established via promotion and relegation. But Europe provides clear examples of how things can work.
In England, there are four tiers of professional football, starting with the Premier League (which has 20 teams) and going down to the second-tier Championship (24), third-tier League One (24) and fourth-tier League Two (24). At the end of a round-robin season, the bottom three teams from the Premier League are relegated to the Championship, while three teams move up to enjoy the Premier League’s riches: the top two finishers in the Championship, plus the winner of a two-round playoff between the teams ranked third through sixth. It’s the same for each division moving down. The finals of each promotion playoff are played at the cavernous Wembley Stadium. It’s a pretty big deal.
In Italy, the Serie A promotion playoff from the second division is even bigger — it includes six teams and three rounds over 2½ weeks. (It’s a bit much, if we’re being honest.) In Germany, the bottom two teams in the Bundesliga are auto-relegated, but the third-lowest team gets a chance to avoid relegation by playing in a playoff against the third-highest team in the second division.
There are many variations of this — and in some countries, leagues will look at performance over a multiyear basis to determine who should move up or down — but the concept remains the same: Bad teams go down, and better teams go up.
What’s the draw of relegation?
The existential tension emanating from a relegation scrap can be almost as gripping and must-watch as a good title race. There is nothing comparable in American sports. Behold, these scenes from when Leeds United clinched 17th place with a win at 13th-place Brentford on the final day of 2021-22.
Imagine something like a 3-8 team playing at a 5-6 team on the final day of a college football season. Barring a Hail Mary or something, this would be completely unmemorable for all but the most hardcore of fans. Now imagine if the 3-8 team was an SEC team trying to avoid getting relegated to the Sun Belt. This tension is certainly unbearable for fans of the teams involved, but it adds an extra layer of importance and watchability to the home stretch of a given season.
That sounds fun, but college football is already pretty exciting and watchable. What else might this offer?
It also adds a word we rarely associate with college football: merit.
Vanderbilt and Mississippi State are not in the Southeastern Conference because they have two of the 14 (soon to be 16) best athletic departments or football programs in the Southeast. They’re there because they’ve always been there. Colorado was good for basically 1.5 of the past 17 seasons before 2023 but got to play a major role in two power conference realignment sagas. Kansas has been decent once in 14 years but continues to play Big 12 football. Meanwhile, Boise State played the part of a major college football program for years — nearly elite for a few, too — and never got a major conference sniff because it’s in Idaho. North Dakota State and South Dakota State have done more to earn Big Ten membership in the past 15 years than Indiana or Rutgers.
To play in the top level of soccer in a given country, you have to earn your spot and re-earn it every season. Novel, huh?
With promotion and relegation, cream rises. And it makes conferences better. Take, for instance, the Big 12 and AAC. Let’s pretend for a moment that those leagues had a “top two AAC teams move up, bottom two Big 12 teams move down” arrangement. At the end of this season, Houston (No. 70 in SP+) and Baylor (No. 66) might be replaced by Tulane (No. 38) and Memphis (No. 41). As a result, the Big 12 improves. And while the AAC technically gets worse, it might also improve from adding the best teams from, say, the Missouri Valley (NDSU and SDSU). The circle of life.
Interesting. So what exactly is the MWC considering?
The details remain a bit blurry, but we can start piecing together the initial plan. Front Office Sports acquired a PowerPoint presentation shared with athletic directors both within and outside of the Mountain West that envisioned a group of up to 24 teams including not only Oregon State and Washington State and the current MWC members, but also region-appropriate teams from other conferences. They would create a football-only structure — the conferences could remain untouched for other sports — in which teams are promoted and relegated into at least two tiers.
According to Yahoo! Sports, which spoke to people who saw the presentation, the two remaining Pac-12 schools could join with the MWC and two other programs to create two eight-team leagues. A top tier of OSU, WSU and the top six MWC programs, could perhaps, be paired with a bottom tier of the other six MWC teams and two expansion candidates (North Dakota State and South Dakota State? Semiregional FBS programs like UTSA and Texas State?).
You could craft a conference schedule around the seven other teams in your tier, with a spot or two remaining for opponents in the other tier. (That’s important for assuring that major rivalries remain continuous.) Championship Weekend could include not only a Pac-12 championship game but also a “relegation game” between the sixth- and seventh-place teams in the Pac-12 — with the last-place team automatically dropping — and a “promotion game” between the second- and third-place teams in the MWC after the champ earns an automatic bump.
Based on current SP+ rankings, you might start with a hypothetical top tier of these teams: No. 20 Oregon State, No. 38 Washington State, No. 57 Boise State, No. 59 Air Force, No. 61 Fresno State, No. 84 San Diego State, No. 88 San José State and No. 89 Wyoming.
The second tier could consist of South Dakota State (No. 43 in SP+ if they were in FBS) and North Dakota State (No. 53), plus UNLV, Utah State, Colorado State, Hawai’i, Nevada and New Mexico. If the three-tier, 24-team vision were to come to fruition, it could also include some combination of top-100 FBS teams on or west of the Mississippi River, such as Memphis, Tulane, UTSA and Texas State, plus perhaps top-100 caliber Big Sky programs like Montana, Montana State, Sacramento State, Weber State or Idaho. Within a couple of years, you could have a top tier of Oregon State, Washington State, Memphis, Tulane, Air Force, Boise State, Fresno State and someone like UTSA, San Diego State or one of the Dakotas. Is that a power conference? Not quite, but at worst it’s easily the best of the non-powers. It would produce a top-25 caliber champion more often than not.
OK, sounds great, but how would the money work?
That’s a very good question, one that’s impossible to answer just yet.
In theory, a Mountain West with more good programs and more high-interest matchups commands a better media rights deal than what it is currently working with, but the league would have to figure out what percentage to distribute to each tier. It would also have to decide on things like “parachute payments” — a Premier League system in which relegated teams receive a percentage of top-tier money (diminishing each year) to assure that the financial impact of falling off the ladder isn’t quite as much of a shock.
There’s also the issue of a school trying to draw up an athletic budget flexible enough to account for the sudden loss of a few million dollars it was planning on having. Obviously soccer clubs do this annually — sometimes they do this very poorly and end up with serious issues — and everyone would adapt, but there would be quite a bit of short-term awkwardness.
What are some drawbacks?
You mean beyond “They have 400 decisions to make and not exactly a ton of time to make them?”
Yes.
OK. Since we’re treating this idea as a realistic one for this moment, we should probably acknowledge that there are quite a few drawbacks of the more and less obvious varieties.
Schools take fewer risks when relegation is on the line. Remember when Kentucky hired Valdosta State’s Hal Mumme in the 1990s, setting into motion a chain of events that led to Mike Leach’s emergence as a major college football coach and college football’s evolution into something far more interesting and pass-happy? UK almost certainly doesn’t consider making such an outside-the-box decision if the punishment for it going wrong is relegation to the Sun Belt.
Granted, the Wildcats had enjoyed one winning season in 12 years before hiring Mumme. They’d have already been in the Sun Belt. And those hires are rare anyway. But in soccer, tactical innovation often comes from the top of the sport and trickles down. It sometimes happens that way in college football — the Wishbone revolutionized the sport in the late 1960s and originated at Texas — but some of the sport’s biggest innovations have trickled upward, and that would be more difficult to pull off.
There’s also the whole matter of panic firings: College football programs already make increasingly rash decisions of this nature, and that’s without the fear of relegation.
Promotion and relegation have in no way prevented top-down inequality in soccer. It’s great to actually introduce merit and reward the programs that have been most well-run for a long period of time. But in a relegation structure, a sport’s middleweight or light-heavyweight programs often bounce between levels while the heavyweights are rarely threatened with falling to a lower division. Over time, the less monied clubs end up making less than the clubs that already had more money. Granted, this isn’t as much of an issue with the current MWC example, but if this were to catch on throughout the sport, it wouldn’t do anything to address what is already far too much of a haves-over-have-nots situation.
Goodness, can you imagine the transfer portal in a universe with relegation?
Right? Admittedly, things can only get so much wilder than they already are, but “43 San José State players enter the transfer portal the day after a season-ending loss clinches relegation” is one way to do it.
Wouldn’t the NCAA also have to change some rules to allow something like this?
Yes. And needing the NCAA’s help to do anything (A) helpful and (B) in a timely manner is generally a fraught proposition.
This isn’t going to happen, then, is it?
It seems like the primary decision-makers involved are very much open to new ideas, and let’s be honest, it would be poetic if the first conference to move in this incredible direction was the MWC. The Mountain West is the spiritual home of the original WAC, the first conference to attempt mega-conference status when it expanded to 16 teams in 1996. It was a mess, and eight programs quickly broke off to form the original MWC — Air Force, BYU, Colorado State, New Mexico, SDSU, UNLV, Utah and Wyoming, six of whom remain in the conference. But if anyone has proved unafraid of thinking outside of the box and risking being ahead of its time, it’s this collection of schools. And implementing it on a smaller scale like this, instead of in some FBS-wide structure, is the only way it will ever happen.
That said … no, I’m not expecting this to actually happen. I’ll keep my fingers crossed, but I assume the complicated nature of the change — the weird budgeting, the required rule changes, etc. — prevent it from happening anytime soon, even with a less change-averse crowd. But I can dream.
ESPN baseball reporter. Covered the L.A. Rams for ESPN from 2016 to 2018 and the L.A. Angels for MLB.com from 2012 to 2016.
GLENDALE, Ariz. — Sometime around mid-August last year, Mookie Betts convened with the Los Angeles Dodgers‘ coaches. He had taken stock of what transpired while he rehabbed a broken wrist, surveyed his team’s roster and accepted what had become plainly obvious: He needed to return to right field.
For the better part of five months, Betts had immersed himself in the painstaking task of learning shortstop in the midst of a major league season. It was a process that humbled him but also invigorated him, one he had desperately wanted to see through. On the day he gave it up, Chris Woodward, at that point an adviser who had intermittently helped guide Betts through the transition, sought him out. He shook Betts’ hand, told him how much he respected his efforts and thanked him for the work.
“Oh, it ain’t over yet,” Betts responded. “For now it’s over, but we’re going to win the World Series, and then I’m coming back.”
Woodward, now the Dodgers’ full-time first-base coach and infield instructor, recalled that conversation from the team’s spring training complex at Camelback Ranch last week and smiled while thinking about how those words had come to fruition. The Dodgers captured a championship last fall, then promptly determined that Betts, the perennial Gold Glove outfielder heading into his age-32 season, would be the every-day shortstop on one of the most talented baseball teams ever assembled.
From November to February, Betts visited high school and collegiate infields throughout the L.A. area on an almost daily basis in an effort to solidify the details of a transition he did not have time to truly prepare for last season.
Pedro Montero, one of the Dodgers’ video coordinators, placed an iPad onto a tripod and aimed its camera in Betts’ direction while he repeatedly pelted baseballs into the ground with a fungo bat, then sent Woodward the clips to review from his home in Arizona. The three spoke almost daily.
By the time Betts arrived in spring training, Woodward noticed a “night and day” difference from one year to the next. But he still acknowledges the difficulty of what Betts is undertaking, and he noted that meaningful games will ultimately serve as the truest arbiter.
The Dodgers have praised Betts for an act they described as unselfish, one that paved the way for both Teoscar Hernandez and Michael Conforto to join their corner outfield and thus strengthen their lineup. Betts himself has said his move to shortstop is a function of doing “what I feel like is best for the team.” But it’s also clear that shouldering that burden — and all the second-guessing and scrutiny that will accompany it — is something he wants.
He wants to be challenged. He wants to prove everybody wrong. He wants to bolster his legacy.
“Mookie wants to be the best player in baseball, and I don’t see why he wouldn’t want that,” Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said. “I think if you play shortstop, with his bat, that gives him a better chance.”
ONLY 21 PLAYERS since 1900 have registered 100 career games in right field and 100 career games at shortstop, according to ESPN Research. It’s a list compiled mostly of lifelong utility men. The only one among them who came close to following Betts’ path might have been Tony Womack, an every-day right fielder in his age-29 season and an every-day shortstop in the three years that followed. But Womack had logged plenty of professional shortstop experience before then.
Through his first 12 years in professional baseball, Betts accumulated just 13 starts at shortstop, all of them in rookie ball and Low-A from 2011 to 2012. His path — as a no-doubt Hall of Famer and nine-time Gold Glove right fielder who will switch to possibly the sport’s most demanding position in his 30s — is largely without precedent. And yet the overwhelming sense around the Dodgers is that if anyone can pull it off, it’s him.
“Mookie’s different,” third baseman Max Muncy said. “I think this kind of challenge is really fun for him. I think he just really enjoys it. He’s had to put in a lot of hard work — a lot of work that people haven’t seen — but I just think he’s such a different guy when it comes to the challenge of it that he’s really enjoying it. When you look at how he approaches it, he’s having so much fun trying to get as good as he can be. There’s not really any question in anyone’s mind here that he’s going to be a very good defensive shortstop.”
Betts entered the 2024 season as the primary second baseman, a position to which he had long sought a return, but transitioned to shortstop on March 8, 12 days before the Dodgers would open their season from South Korea, after throwing issues began to plague Gavin Lux. Almost every day for the next three months, Betts put himself through a rigorous pregame routine alongside teammate Miguel Rojas and third-base coach Dino Ebel in an effort to survive at the position.
The metrics were unfavorable, scouts were generally unimpressed and traditional statistics painted an unflattering picture — all of which was to be expected. Simply put, Betts did not have the reps. He hadn’t spent significant time at shortstop since he was a teenager at Overton High School in Nashville, Tennessee. He was attempting to cram years of experience through every level of professional baseball into the space allotted to him before each game, a task that proved impossible.
Betts committed nine errors during his time at shortstop, eight of them the result of errant throws. He often lacked the proper footwork to put himself in the best position to throw accurately across the diamond, but the Dodgers were impressed by how quickly he seemed to grasp other aspects of the position that seemed more difficult for others — pre-pitch timing, range, completion of difficult plays.
Shortly after the Dodgers defeated the New York Yankees to win their first full-season championship since 1988, Betts sat down with Dodgers coaches and executives and expressed his belief that, if given the proper time, he would figure it out. And so it was.
“If Mook really wants to do something, he’s going to do everything he can to be an elite, elite shortstop,” Dodgers general manager Brandon Gomes said. “I’m not going to bet against that guy.”
THE FIRST TASK was determining what type of shortstop Betts would be. Woodward consulted with Ryan Goins, the current Los Angeles Angels infield coach who is one of Betts’ best friends. The two agreed that he should play “downhill,” attacking the baseball, making more one-handed plays and throwing largely on the run, a style that fit better for a transitioning outfielder.
During a prior stint on the Dodgers’ coaching staff, Woodward — the former Texas Rangers manager who rejoined the Dodgers staff after Los Angeles’ previous first-base coach, Clayton McCullough, became the Miami Marlins‘ manager in the offseason — implemented the same style with Corey Seager, who was widely deemed too tall to remain a shortstop.
“He doesn’t love the old-school, right-left, two-hands, make-sure-you-get-in-front-of-the-ball type of thing,” Woodward said of Betts. “It doesn’t make sense to him. And I don’t coach that way. I want them to be athletic, like the best athlete they can possibly be, so that way they can use their lower half, get into their legs, get proper direction through the baseball to line to first. And that’s what Mookie’s really good at.”
Dodger Stadium underwent a major renovation of its clubhouse space over the offseason, making the field unusable and turning Montero and Betts into nomads. From the second week of November through the first week of February, the two trained at Crespi Carmelite High School near Betts’ home in Encino, California, then Sierra Canyon, Los Angeles Valley College and, finally, Loyola High.
For a handful of days around New Year’s, Betts flew to Austin, Texas, to get tutelage from Troy Tulowitzki, the five-time All-Star and two-time Gold Glove Award winner whose mechanics Betts was drawn to. In early January, when wildfires spread through the L.A. area, Betts flew to Glendale, Arizona, to train with Woodward in person.
Mostly, though, it was Montero as the eyes and ears on the ground and Woodward as the adviser from afar. Their sessions normally lasted about two hours in the morning, evolving from three days a week to five and continually ramping up in intensity. The goal for the first two months was to hone the footwork skills required to make a variety of different throws, but also to give Betts plenty of reps on every ground ball imaginable.
When January came, Betts began to carve out a detailed, efficient routine that would keep him from overworking when the games began. It accounted for every situation, included backup scenarios for uncontrollable events — when it rained, when there wasn’t enough time, when pregame batting practice stretched too long — and was designed to help Betts hold up. What was once hundreds of ground balls was pared down to somewhere in the neighborhood of 35, but everything was accounted for.
LAST YEAR, BETTS’ throws were especially difficult for Freddie Freeman to catch at first base, often cutting or sailing or darting. But when Freeman joined Betts in spring training, he noticed crisp throws that consistently arrived with backspin and almost always hit the designated target. Betts was doing a better job of getting his legs under him on batted balls hit in a multitude of directions. Also, Rojas said, he “found his slot.”
“Technically, talking about playing shortstop, finding your slot is very important because you’re throwing the ball from a different position than when you throw it from right field,” Rojas explained. “You’re not throwing the ball from way over the top or on the bottom. So he’s finding a slot that is going to work for him. He’s understanding now that you need a slot to throw the ball to first base, you need a slot to throw the ball to second base, you need a slot to throw the ball home and from the side.”
Dodgers super-utility player Enrique Hernandez has noticed a “more loose” Betts at shortstop this spring. Roberts said Betts is “two grades better” than he was last year, before a sprained left wrist placed him on the injured list on June 17 and prematurely ended his first attempt. Before reporting to spring training, Betts described himself as “a completely new person over there.”
“But we’ll see,” he added.
The games will be the real test. At that point, Woodward said, it’ll largely come down to trusting the work he has put in over the past four months. Betts is famously hard on himself, and so Woodward has made it a point to remind him that, as long as his process is sound, imperfection is acceptable.
“This is dirt,” Woodward will often tell him. “This isn’t perfect.”
The Dodgers certainly don’t need Betts to be their shortstop. If it doesn’t work out, he can easily slide back to second base. Rojas, the superior defender whose offensive production prompted Betts’ return to right field last season, can fill in on at least a part-time basis. So can Tommy Edman, who at this point will probably split his time between center field and second base, and so might Hyeseong Kim, the 26-year-old middle infielder who was signed out of South Korea this offseason.
But it’s clear Betts wants to give it another shot.
As Roberts acknowledged, “He certainly felt he had unfinished business.”
LAKELAND, Fla. — Detroit Tigers outfielder Akil Baddoo had surgery to repair a broken bone in his right hand and will miss the start of the regular season.
Manager A.J. Hinch said Friday that Baddoo had more tests done after some continued wrist soreness since the start of spring training. Those tests revealed the hamate hook fracture in his right hand that was surgically repaired Thursday.
Baddoo, 26, who has been with the Tigers since 2021, is at spring training as a non-roster player. He was designated for assignment in December after Detroit signed veteran right-hander Alex Cobb to a $15 million, one-year contract. Baddoo cleared waivers and was outrighted to Triple-A Toledo.
Cobb is expected to miss the start of the season after an injection to treat hip inflammation that developed as the right-hander was throwing at the start of camp. He has had hip surgery twice.
Baddoo hit .137 with two homers and five RBIs in 31 games last season. The left-hander has a .226 career average with 28 homers and 103 RBI in 340 games.
After the Tigers acquired him from Minnesota in the Rule 5 draft at the winter meetings in December 2020, Baddoo hit .259 with 13 homers, 55 RBIs, 18 stolen bases and a .330 on-base percentage in 124 games as a rookie in 2021. Those are all career bests.
Roberts said he had spoken with Miller, who was still in concussion protocol after getting struck by a 105.5 mph liner hit by Chicago Cubs first baseman Michael Busch in the first game of spring training Thursday.
The manager said Miller indicated that there was no fracture or any significant bruising.
“He said in his words, ‘I have a hard head.’ He was certainly in good spirits,” Roberts said.
Miller immediately fell to the ground while holding his head, but quickly got up on his knees as medical staff rushed onto the field. The 25-year-old right-hander was able to walk off the field on his own.
“He feels very confident that he can kind of pick up his throwing program soon,” said Roberts, who was unsure of that timing. “But he’s just got to keep going through the concussion protocol just to make sure that we stay on the right track.”
Miller entered spring training in the mix for a spot in the starting rotation. He had a 2-4 record with an 8.52 ERA over 13 starts last season, after going 11-4 with a 3.76 in 22 starts as a rookie in 2023.