College football has always felt different, and Saturdays in September and October are so dramatic for a reason.

Unlike many other sports, college football has always placed immense value on the regular season. One loss could derail a national championship dream. One minor slip-up from a contender could have cascading effects on tens of others. One upset could change the season’s entire landscape. Every week mattered because every game mattered.

That is why the recent Oct. 15 news of the College Football Playoff nearing a deal to double its field from 12 to 24 teams is so disheartening. While this isn’t set in stone yet, it feels all but guaranteed. This would mean that in the past 14 years, the CFP will have expanded from the BCS days of two teams to now 24.

Expanding the playoff to 24 teams would weaken the importance of regular-season matchups, devalue conference championship games and only increase conference bias.

Supporters argue that the expansion gives more deserving teams a chance to compete for a national championship, and on paper, that sounds fair. But in reality, a 24-team playoff would give those championship opportunities to teams that have already proven they are not among the elite. 

Those teams had opportunities and lost the games. Why should we give them another chance to contend in the playoffs when they already squandered it during the season?

Above all, expansion comes at the expense of what has always made college football so special: the regular season.

Some of the greatest moments in college football and sports overall are remembered for the stakes attached to them. When FCS Appalachian State stunned Michigan at the Big House in 2007, it became one of the biggest upsets in sports history because No. 5 Michigan’s national championship hopes were over before they even got started. In a 24-team playoff, that loss would likely be little more than a bad week with little consequence.

The same applies to countless regular-season classics. The 2013 No. 1 Alabama vs. No. 4 Auburn Iron Bowl and the iconic Kick Six. The 2019 No. 1 LSU vs. No. 2 Alabama “Game of the Century” rematch. Multiple editions of “The Game” between Michigan and Ohio State, with both teams ranked in the top 4, including in 2022 and 2023, the latter of which cost Ohio State a playoff spot.

These games were legendary because a loss could change everything. Under a 24-team format, they simply become contests for seeding and potential byes. The sport loses something when losses stop mattering. K-State fans especially can understand this.

Think back to the Wildcats’ 2022 Big 12 championship season, or perhaps more memorably, the 2012 season with Collin Klein at quarterback, when the ‘Cats were ranked No. 1 in the country. Every conference game carried enormous weight. 

Now think about this format. Would an October or November game between conference contenders be as meaningful if both teams already knew they were comfortably in the playoff? Probably not.

While this would give K-State easier paths to competing for a natty, the odds are stacked so heavily against them if they make it. The magic of a season lies in home conference games and rivalries, not in neutral-site games against an Ohio State or Georgia team that would likely be two-touchdown favorites. Part of what makes a game at Bill Snyder Family Stadium so special is knowing the result can define the entire season. The urgency and atmosphere come from real stakes on the table. 

Expansion creates another problem: even more money, power and attention for the SEC and Big Ten.

Supporters use the expansion as an opportunity for greater access. But for a sport that already struggles with perception and SEC bias, expanding the field most likely only gives the two wealthiest conferences more room to dominate the bracket. Instead of opening the door for more deserving Big 12, ACC or Group of 5 programs, it could mean another four-loss SEC team gets the nod because of a “tough schedule” and brand recognition.

If expansion must happen, additional opportunities should go to deserving Group of 5 conference champions rather than middle-of-the-pack power-conference programs. One of the greatest moments in college football history came when Boise State shocked powerhouse Oklahoma in the 2007 Fiesta Bowl. Those exact games are what separate college football.

The expansion ripple effect extends beyond just the regular season. 

Conference championship games would cease to exist. Winning the Big 12 championship remains one of K-State’s most significant accomplishments, and the 2022 season proved that. But what if a playoff game against a 10-win Tennessee Volunteers team at Neyland replaced that December Saturday in Arlington? What is there to look forward to on the other side?

The same concern applies to bowl games.

For decades, bowl season has been one of college football’s greatest traditions. Reaching that six-win threshold and going to a neutral-site game in a fun location where your band could come was something to love. Winning the Alamo Bowl, Pop-Tarts Bowl or Rose Bowl meant something. It capped a successful season and provided memorable moments.

Those games are already falling by the wayside with team opt-outs and star player opt-outs, and a 24-team playoff only pushes them further into irrelevance. They will simply fade away.

One final point: expansion ignores another reality — more games do not create better games.

Even in the four-team era, almost every playoff had at least one blowout. Alabama blanked Michigan State 38-0 in the 2015 Cotton Bowl Classic. LSU dismantled Oklahoma 63-28 in the 2019 Peach Bowl. Georgia famously obliterated TCU 65-7 in the 2023 National Championship. Why should anyone believe the 20th-and 24th-place teams would fare any better than them?

In fact, the 12-team playoff already showed this. In the two years with the current format, only three of the 16 total first-round and quarterfinal games have been one-possession games. Three! People argue more teams create more excitement, but every expansion proves the exact opposite.

Unfortunately, college football is far from the only sport suffering from this expansion epidemic.

The NCAA tournament, often called the perfect postseason, recently expanded to 76 teams. The World Cup just expanded to 48 teams in 2026 and is in talks to expand to 64 teams in 2030. The UEFA Champions League redid its entire format because of expansion. The FIFA Club World Cup expanded from 7 to 32 teams in 2025 and wants to expand to 48 for 2029. Across sports, leagues keep chasing bigger tournaments, lining their own pockets with TV revenue.

Now, not later, someone in a high position needs to ask whether more makes the product better. In many cases it does not. It benefits owners, commissioners and television executives at the expense of the common fan. And therein lies the problem. 

College football does not need more playoff games. It needs more meaningful games.

The sport became so popular because every Saturday was an elimination game. Fans spent months debating rankings, knowing one loss or upset could change everything.

Not every team deserves a championship opportunity in December. Not every season needs a second chance after a loss. A 24-team playoff would prioritize quantity over quality and erase what has made college football special for decades.

Bigger does not mean better. In college football specifically, it actually means the opposite.