The Big Ten Stumbled and Fumbled Its Way into a Good Plan for a Fall Season

This was a dumpster fire. A train wreck. A masterclass in how not to publicly handle a crisis.

The last six weeks have not been kind to the Big Ten. The conference's handling of the COVID-19 pandemic—and specifically who and how the difficult decision to postpone the football season was made—has been an endless public blunder filled with bouts of misinformation, parent protests, lawsuits and highly exposed indecisiveness from the decision-makers within the conference.

The initial decision was final, according to new Big Ten Commissioner Kevin Warren. It "will not be revisited," he said in a letter to the Big Ten community published August 19—a line that is now cringeworthy reading less than a month later

On Wednesday, that decision was revisited and reversed. The Big Ten will play football this fall in the form of a nine-game schedule, starting the weekend of October 24.

The return will come with daily antigen testing, beginning at the end of the month. Any member of the team who tests positive will be asked to sit out at least 21 days before returning. And if a team's overall positive rate exceeds 5 percent, it will pause for at least seven days.

"Our focus with the Task Force over the last six weeks was to ensure the health and safety of our student-athletes," Warren said in a release Wednesday. "Our goal has always been to return to competition so all student-athletes can realize their dream of competing in the sports they love. We are incredibly grateful for the collaborative work that our Return to Competition Task Force has accomplished to ensure the health, safety and wellness of student-athletes, coaches and administrators."

Rick Scuteri/Associated Press

For the third time this year, the Big Ten will release a football schedule for its members. Likely very soon. It will be a tight eight-game regular-season schedule with little to no room for COVID-19 disruptions.

It will conclude with a "champions week," according to Wisconsin athletic director Barry Alvarez—a revelation that was made in a press conference shortly after the return was announced. While the Big Ten Championship will be played December 19, just a day before the College Football Playoff is announced, the seeds from East and West will match up in one final game. (The No. 2 seed from the East will play the No. 2 seed from the West, and down the rankings it will go.)

This is where the praise starts, albeit slowly. Of all the unique scheduling changes made, this is without question the most innovative. And while a late-season matchup between Rutgers and Illinois might not cause the nation to flock to its televisions, the game's existence will provide more football and also give the conference another spotlight as it pertains to the College Football Playoff.

The fact that the playoff was even a part of the strategy here speaks volumes to how far we've come. It doesn't erase the damage that was done over the past five weeks. It doesn't undo the issues the conference had with messaging.

It also doesn't guarantee that this plan—which is clearly thought out and well-intentioned—will go off without a hitch. If the first few weeks have taught us anything, it's that postponements and adjustments are almost a foregone conclusion.

And still, this moment can be celebrated. It comes with risk and concern, which will remain regardless of how much more comfortable the conference is with the protocols. But its impact on the players, coaches, families, university employees and others is robust.

It would be easy to clobber the Big Ten even further. That the conference merely gave into public pressure. (It probably did.) That it hastily, and arrogantly, postponed its season first with the idea that the rest of the nation would follow. (It certainly did.)

The criticisms are valid. The pile-on, to this point, warranted. But regardless of why or how the Big Ten reversed a decision that was deemed irreversible last month, it should be praised.

That's not to say all should be forgotten. This should be a public relations lesson taught in marketing classes for years to come. But the conference's willingness to walk back such a polarizing decision is not something we should take lightly.

Beyond the optics, this is all about the outcome and the impact on those who truly have been impacted. This is (or at least should be) about the players and their passion and desire to play. Not the media. Not even the coaches. But the people who make this all possible.

Nati Harnik/Associated Press

It's why eight Nebraska players sued the conference last month. (The lawsuit was dropped in the wake of the Big Ten's decision Wednesday.) It's why a small collection of parents gathered outside the Big Ten's Illinois headquarters to showcase their displeasure on their children's behalf. It's why Ohio State head coach Ryan Day, one of the best young coaches in the country, openly questioned his displeasure with the decision last week.

Those players will be able to play. Their parents will be able to watch. That's what this moment should be about. That's why this outcome can be appreciated.

Not the way the conference bungled each opportunity to provide clarity. Or the way politics seeped into and eventually consumed the discussion. It's about people—specifically those who are directly involved, whose needs and wants take priority.

In the end, this game is about experiences and the emotions attached to those experiences. It's why the postponement was received with the vigor that it was. It's why the return is being embraced with such overwhelming counter-emotions.

The Big Ten shouldn't be faulted for wanting to protect its people. The original decision has noble origins, even if outcome and delivery were laced with issues.

But the conference listened and adapted. It wore the body blows; it was a deserving pinata. And while it failed so publicly along the way, it was able to deliver an outcome that will be safer for its participants while still granting close to a full season—at least what one looks like in the COVID-19 era.

It reversed course, using data and testing breakthroughs and other means to make it happen. And yes, public pressure factored too. But there is something to be appreciated about a group failing so spectacularly and then essentially acknowledging those mistakes with meaningful action shortly after.

Should it have waited to make these calls like others chose to? Without question. The hastiness and rush to declare the season unsalvageable seemed somewhat doomed from the beginning. But the end result, so it appears, is the one many wanted all along.

While you don't have to be happy for the conference or the people who decided to reverse course, those directly impacted by it will better for it, perhaps a bonus matchup between Rutgers and Illinois is enough to erase any animosity that still exists and sweeten the deal.

Adam Kramer covers college football for Bleacher Report. Follow him on Twitter: @KegsnEggs.