Yes, College Football Playoff expansion is flawed. It'll still be wildly entertaining

Indiana quarterback Fernando Mendoza hoists the trophy after the Hoosiers' win against Miami in the College Football Playoff national championship game in January. (Lynne Sladky/Associated Press) There are all sorts of troubling components to college football's 24-team playoff system, scheduled to be in place next season.It invites too many teams. It is arrogantly orchestrated by television and the Power 4 conferences. It blows right past the perfect format of 16 teams. It gives certain teams a bye, and that's unfair to the rest of the field. It's possible a 7-4 team could reach the title game.Really, though, are you upset? More games. That's it, the only thing that matters for fans who love the sport. Grumble all you want, but what happens when it actually begins, with a powerhouse team taking on a scrappy underdog with designs on a shocker? You're out in the garage rearranging the tools?And when it comes to the title game, after weeks of untold drama, you're watching hockey?Here at the 3-Dot, we learned to appreciate postseason expansion long ago. We argued fiercely against baseball wild cards until the format produced some of the craziest action we've ever seen - guiding the 2002 Giants into the World Series and the 2014 Giants into a parade.The greatest Boston Red Sox story ever told? Dave Roberts' epic stolen base, coming back from an 0-3 deficit against the Yankees, and finally winning the town's first World Series in 86 years?That was a wild-card team. It happens, and it is glorious. If you'd rather not deal with Madison Bumgarner's epic relief performance in Kansas City, that's up to you.We follow college football pretty closely at the Lounge, taping everything in sight, and there are at least 20 teams we consider must-watch theater every week. Among that group, any championship matchup would be just dandy - because the lead-in will have shown them to be the hottest, most compelling teams around.Meanwhile, the whole "diminish the regular season" argument is strictly a media creation. It does not exist in real life. College football weekends are precious throughout the land, highly anticipated and a lively festival for hours. So your team goes into a slump, or blows a big one: Suddenly you're giving up? You've only got six of these - five or seven in some cases. Appreciate every moment.In the coming weeks, check any telecast from an authentic college football town. Nobody's brooding about playoff implications; the stands are packed and joyous, an inspiring sight to see. As for the actual teams, I saw in print last month that "the BYU game means nothing to Notre Dame." What nonsense. Both teams were undefeated at the time, the Irish ranked second in the country. They're just going to cash that one in, maybe rest some key guys? Not a chance.I can't explain what goes on at Stanford, where basically nobody goes to watch football (routinely thousands of empty seats during the Jim Harbaugh and Andrew Luck eras), but I went to Cal, where we haven't sniffed a Rose Bowl since 1959 - and every Saturday is the same. Granted, the scene bears no resemblance to Michigan or Alabama, but then again, we don't expect a win. We expect a mood, and it's always there. So the sport loses conference title games under the new system? Good. The stakes are too complicated, too often. The bowl system takes a hit? That's been the case for decades, recently finding key players bailing out to protect their precious draft status. It's sad that only the elite bowl games matter, but that's the reality, and all of them will be choice locations for playoff games. Meanwhile, the new system promises two rounds of home games, diminishing the neutral-setting factor, and that's a blessing.From what we gather, this brave new world will give us nearly two months of elimination-game football. A veritable second season, just as we enjoy in the NBA. That sounds awfully enticing. But if you're really put off, look at it this way: Good time to clean the gutters.Out in the coldFans of the Golden State Valkyries got a jolt this week when it was learned that Justė Jocytė, the fifth overall pick in the 2025 WNBA draft but buried deep on the bench, would prefer a new setting. She didn't outright request a trade, but in an interview with a Lithuanian outlet, she made it clear that she's at odds with head coach Natalie Nakase and is no guarantee to return to the WNBA next season."I am young and I am not in a hurry to return to America," she said through translation, "because my dream country is not there."Casual fans of this WNBA championship team might have difficulty placing the name. Jocytė saw the court for just five total minutes during the 13-game playoff run, intentionally ruled out of any meaningful action. It seems apparent that Jocytė suffered the same fate as teammate Jalene Salaün, voted the league's Sixth Player of the Year but deemed a liability on defense. (Over the last eight playoff games, Salaün reached double figures in minutes played only once, and just 2:37 in Game 7 against Atlanta.)That's the team's calling card, routinely showing off the tightest defense in the league. Jocytė fashioned the look of someone who has never played the Valks' brand of tough, in-your-face pressure, and that can't be taught if you're not into it. Nor did she ever wear a look of confidence or high energy - understandably so, but she's never going to remind anyone of Tiffany Hayes or Kaila Charles in court presence.Shooting is not the problem; how many times did Jocytė get into a game, stone cold, and immediately hit an outside shot or two? She can score from anywhere and make it look easy, the reason behind her teenage stardom in Europe. But Nakase sealed her fate in proclaiming her a point guard, when that is clearly not her strong suit - especially when measured against the supremely confident Veronica Burton and Kaitlyn Chen.To her everlasting credit, Jocytė didn't play the scorned-and-forlorn card at any point of the season, right down to her glowing presence during the San Francisco parade. That's pure class. Maybe the team wants her back, and there's no harm in that. But this is a 20-year-old prodigy who needs a proper stage. Ballhalla seems a stretch.Bruce Jenkins writes the 3-Dot Lounge for the San Francisco Chronicle. Email: jenksurf@gmail.com; Twitter: @Bruce_Jenkins1SubscribeThere’s more to San Francisco with the Chronicle. Subscribe today for just 25¢.This article originally published at Yes, College Football Playoff expansion is flawed. It'll still be wildly entertaining.