Jon Wilner: Did Pac-12 panic and make wrong decision?

Wrong Call On Football?

Two weeks ago today, the Pac-12 shuttered football for the first time in conference history.

Not much has changed over the fortnight:

The SEC, ACC and Big 12 continue churning forward despite positive tests, practice pauses and campus policy reversals.

At the same time, so much has changed:

The Covid-19 positivity rate is dropping in Arizona; the case counts are plunging in Washington; and the outbreak is receding in California.

Local conditions no longer seem quite so daunting across the Pac-12 footprint.

So we wonder: Did the presidents move too soon?

Absolutely not, and quite possibly yes.

Sorry for the waffling. But with college football as with so many coronavirus matters, the answer is steeped in complexity and nuance.

Earlier this summer, the Hotline outlined the smooth manner in which the Pac-12 conducted business during the pandemic.

Earlier this month, we summarized the reasoning behind the decision to shut down the fall sports season.

And for these past two weeks, we have pondered the timing of the plug pulling.

Our conclusion:

The decision made perfect sense based on all available information at the time of the vote, which came one week before the start of training camp.

In fact, the vote was taken at that time, Aug. 11, precisely because of training camp: The conference needed the medical experts to approve testing and tracing protocols for the start of contact practice.

Instead, they delivered a 12-page report explaining why that was ill-advised.

Our measured critique of the process targets the broader framework:

The decision that led to the regular-season calendar, which set the training camp schedule that required the medical report that convinced the presidents to shut it down when they did.

Why attempt a 10-game season, starting in late September?

That decision seemed aggressive at the time (July 31) based on the Covid-19 conditions across the west and the testing limitations across the country.

As the days passed and training camp drew closer, aggressive became unreasonable.

Had the conference instead crafted a more modest schedule — for example: eight or nine games, starting in the middle of October — then everything would have changed.

It could have started training camp in the middle of September, not the middle of August, which would have given the medical advisors three or four additional weeks to monitor.

Their skepticism that local conditions and testing limitations would remain unchanged into September played a key role in the recommendation and the vote.

But what if they had waited until after Labor Day to take stock of local conditions and testing technology?

What if they had taken another month to gather information on Myocarditis?

Instead of starting at Mile 1 and seeing no realistic path to the marathon’s finish, what if they had started at Mile 13?

Might the end-game have looked different?

Probably not.

But probably isn't the bar -- at least, it shouldn't be the bar.

For its athletes and fans, the conference should have done everything possible to buy as much time as possible.

It should have avoided a vote until it absolutely, positively had to take a vote.

Based on the regular-season and training camp schedules that were announced at the end of July, the vote was, in fact, wholly necessary at the time it took place.

But did the conference box itself in with the calendar?

Would the outlook be any different now, today, at this moment, if the teams were still three weeks from starting training camp?

We can't rule that out.

If you’re going to second guess the decision, that’s not an unfair place to start. — Jon Wilner.