Back in the late 80s, commercials for the board game Mousetrap were regular visitors during Saturday morning cartoons, "Legends of the Hidden Temple," and everyone's favorite sitcom, "Alf."  The premise of the game was simple:  move your "mouse" around the board, collect "cheese cards," and be the last to be trapped by the elaborate scheme of booby traps and plastic doohickeys.  Easy enough, right?  Like most kids at the time, I was one of many to be drawn in by the novelty of the game, and nagged my mom incessantly until she broke down and bought it for me.

But, here's the thing... once the cellophane was off the box and the setup completed, it became ever-apparent that the game was over hyped.  Besides the confusing rules, the main problem with the game was that it didn't work.  At all.  In reality, Mousetrap took longer to assemble than play and became more frustrating than fun when its innovative traps malfunctioned into stationery props.  Movable parts only moved once in a while, prompting many to re-read the directions and inevitably stash the game on an abandoned shelf.  Kids eventually caught on and realized that' the odds were higher of choking on the game pieces than enjoying the game play, and the fad died a slow death, but not before earning millions and annoying many a parent in the process.

I learned a very valuable lesson thanks to Mousetrap:  always understand what you're buying BEFORE you buy it.  The game was supposed to leverage its own novelty and trap "mice" with its complicated catacombs of clutter.  Instead, it sat idle, victimized by its own complexity, and only truly "worked" when floors vibrated or desk fans blew at just the right angle.

More importantly, I thought that we, as a society, had recovered from the Mousetrap debacle and were ready to move on.  But, au contraire, my friends.  Hold the the elevator.  I'm convinced now more than ever that sports fans around the country have fallen into the same "trap" Milton Bradley set many years ago.  How else do you explain the BCS?

The Bowl Championship Series was sold to us on the assumption that it would pair the two most deserving teams in a major bowl game to determine a true national champion.  To achieve this, the system promised two exciting changes to the college postseason:

(1)  More flexibility for major bowl games when selecting teams

(2)  The creation of a third, all-inclusive poll that mitigated bias in human ballots by factoring in various computer rankings

In theory, the system had genuine intentions.  The added flexibility gave the Rose, Orange, Sugar, and Fiesta Bowls the opportunity to pair up the top two teams in the land, which greatly decreased the likelihood of a split national championship, arguably the biggest flaw in the old system.  For this, I give it credit.  Any sensible person has to.  The rigid nature of the old system was too constrictive and in dire need of a revolution.  While conferences are still locked into certain bowl games, the BCS has, at the very least, prevented the old system from interfering with current national championships.

However, the second change wasn't nearly as effective.  Just like the aforementioned board game, the BCS rating system was so sophisticated that people found it intriguing.  We were so blown away by unprecedented flexibility that we assumed everything else was legit.  If we would've taken the extra time to read the fine print, maybe we would've noticed the system's inability to handle more than two worthy teams in the same calendar year.  USC and Auburn know what I'm talking about.  Maybe we would've unearthed this system's new definition of "deserving," relative to large fan bases, television ratings, and corporate dollars... not win-loss records.  Just ask teams like the Oregon Ducks.  Maybe we would've also predicted eight "tweaks" to the formula in as many years... or a split national championship in 2003... or the eventual distaste of the Associated Press, ESPN, and the general public.

But then again, maybe we didn't have a chance to speak up.  Like an NFL coach after a guilty replay, the NCAA rushed to the line and snapped the ball before we could throw our red flags.

Over the next few weeks, proponents will contend that the BCS succeeded and reinforced its stature in the college football community, but I can only hope that you won't buy in (again) before reading the label.  In reality, the system remains deeply flawed and only aids the decision-making process when a decision has already been made.  Heck, even the BCS couldn't have screwed up this year!  All it had to do was nod its head in approval!

Like Mousetrap, the BCS only truly "works" in a vacuum with ideal conditions, not in the real world when removed from the fancy packaging.

And, unfortunately, unlike most board games, the BCS is non-refundable.