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What do the numbers say about competitiveness in the postseason for NFL, college football?

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What do the numbers say about competitiveness in the postseason for NFL, college football?

One evening after the inaugural 12-team College Football Playoff concluded with four blowout games staged on campus, ESPN host Scott Van Pelt and football analyst Tim Hasselbeck held a conversation that mirrored many like it taking place on social media and in barrooms.

The host teams won by an average of 19.3 points, and the closest outcome was Notre Dame’s 10-point victory against Indiana. Two games — Penn State over SMU (28 points) and Ohio State over Tennessee (25) — were non-competitive. Texas’ 14-point win against ACC champion Clemson was decisive as well.

“Are these the games you want?” Van Pelt asked the former NFL quarterback. “No one can be sitting there and going, ‘You want these blowout games.’”

Hasselbeck responded, “We’re going to have blowouts in these NFL games, too.”

The loud and contentious debate about whether Indiana and SMU deserved CFP at-large bids overshadowed the reality of postseason football in both college and the NFL. There are at least as many blowouts as there are memorable finishes. That was true in the four-team Playoff era, which began in 2014, and as Hasselbeck pointed out, it’s true in the NFL during the same time frame.

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Since the Playoff system debuted following the 2014 season, there have been 40 CFP games. The average margin of victory in those games is 17.5 points. During the same time frame, there were 124 NFL playoff games, including 10 Super Bowls. The average margin of victory was 11.1 points per contest.

One fact has emerged from the CFP and NFL playoff data. No matter the round, location, level or seeding, it’s a coin flip whether postseason football produces a competitive game or a blowout. The numbers bear that out.

CFP average margin of victory

Games Margin

First round

4

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19.3

Quarterfinals

4

14.5

Semifinals

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22

16.5

Championship

10

20.1

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Total

40

17.5

CFP data

The non-competitive nature of the CFP’s first round produced knee-jerk reactions and wild takes largely because of the participants. But the scoring margin was comparable to what transpired in the previous decade. Three of the four first-round CFP games were decided by at least 11 points, and two had victory margins exceeding 20 points.

Pundits largely scoffed at Indiana, which scored two late touchdowns at Notre Dame before falling 27-17 in the first-round curtain raiser. But of the 10 CFP games this season, it has had the third-closest result.

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“This team earned it, the right to be here,” Indiana coach Curt Cignetti said afterward. “I’m not sure we proved that tonight to a lot of people.”

Regarding CFP history, Indiana’s loss ranked in the upper third as far as competitive final scores. Since the CFP’s debut in 2014, there were more games decided by 20-plus points (17) than by one score (12). More than two-thirds of the games (27) featured a margin of at least 11 points.

In 10 seasons, the CFP’s least competitive round was the championship. Only three of the 10 were decided by one score ,and all three took place from 2015-17 between Alabama and either Clemson (twice) or Georgia (once). The Bulldogs’ 65-7 romp over TCU concluding the 2022 season pushed the average margin to 20.1 points for the title round. While that score was an outlier, five of the 10 championship margins exceeded 20 points.

“These types of margins that we experienced in the first round of the College Football Playoff happen all the time,” Fox college football analyst Joel Klatt said on his podcast following the first round this year. “It’s been happening in the College Football Playoff four-team model forever. We’ve had some absolute duds for semifinals and in the championship game.

“And hey, by the way, there’s large margins in the NFL as well.”

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NFL playoff margin of victory since 2014

Games Margin

Wild card

54

11.9

Divisional

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40

9.9

Championship

20

12.6

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Super Bowl

10

8.4

Total

124

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11.1

NFL Playoff data

The NFL playoff model largely mirrored college football’s postseason results. Five of the six wild-card games last weekend were decided by at least 12 points — two eclipsed 20 points — and the average margin of victory was 15.2 points per game.

There was little variance between the AFC and NFC. In the 54 wild-card games, the average margin was 11.9 points per game (12.7 in the AFC, 11.2 in the NFC). Of the games at non-neutral sites, the divisional round featured the closest margin of victory on average with 40 contests decided by 9.9 points per game (10.9 in the AFC, 8.8 in the NFC). The championship round victory margin was 12.6 points per game (10.7 in the AFC, 14.4 in the NFC).

The Super Bowl’s recent run of competitive contests has become an anomaly to the overall data. Once derided for perpetual disappointment on the big stage — from 1982 through 1996 every NFL title game except for two featured at least a 10-point margin — the NFL championship game generated the closest outcomes of any playoff round (8.4 points per game). Six of the most recent 10 Super Bowls have been decided by one score, and only one featured a margin beyond 14 points.

But for the 114 NFL playoff games at home sites, the percentage of competitive NFL contests alongside blowouts was comparable to the college game.

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Home field, one-score games

Perhaps the most coincidental statistic concerns home-field advantage. In both the AFC and NFC, home teams were 38-19 (76-38 combined) in 10-plus seasons, winning exactly two-thirds of the playoff games from the 2014 postseason onward. Home teams won by an average of 13.1 points per game, while road teams won by 7.9 points per contest.

In 10 seasons, top-seeded teams in both the AFC and NFC were 14-4 in the postseason, combining for a 28-8 overall record. Top seeds won by an average of 14.1 points per game, and their losses came by an average of 5.8 points per game.

With home-field advantage, seeding impacts the NFL much more than in college football, which applied it for the first time this year. All four teams hosting CFP games won, but the top four seeds earned a bye and have yet to host a game on campus. Combining the four on-campus contests with the 36 neutral-site CFP games, the higher seed posted a 21-19 overall record but was just 3-9 in games decided by one score. In one-sided contests featuring victories by more than one score, the higher-seeded team won 64.3 percent of the time. Top-ranked teams were 12-7 in CFP action, winning by 21.1 points per game and losing by 13.9 points per game.

Since 2014, the NFL postseason featured almost an even split between one-score games and blowouts. Of the 114 playoff games played at host sites, 59 (51.8 percent) were determined by one score while 53 (46.5 percent) were decided by 11 points or more.

College football has a lower percentage of one-score CFP contests with 12 of the 40 (30 percent) fitting in that category whereas 27 (67.5 percent) had margins that exceeded 11 points. Perhaps in the clearest difference between the NFL and college football, 42.5 percent of CFP games featured a margin of at least 20 points while only 16.7 percent of NFL games landed in that category.

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(Illustration: Will Tullos / The Athletic; Photos: David Madison, Perry Knotts, Joseph Weiser / Getty Images)

Culture

I Think This Poem Is Kind of Into You

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I Think This Poem Is Kind of Into You

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A famous poet once observed that it is difficult to get the news from poems. The weather is a different story. April showers, summer sunshine and — maybe especially — the chill of winter provide an endless supply of moods and metaphors. Poets like to practice a double meteorology, looking out at the water and up at the sky for evidence of interior conditions of feeling.

The inner and outer forecasts don’t always match up. This short poem by Louise Glück starts out cold and stays that way for most of its 11 lines.

And then it bursts into flame.

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“Early December in Croton-on-Hudson” comes from Glück’s debut collection, “Firstborn,” which was published in 1968. She wrote the poems in it between the ages of 18 and 23, but they bear many of the hallmarks of her mature style, including an approach to personal matters — sex, love, illness, family life — that is at once uncompromising and elusive. She doesn’t flinch. She also doesn’t explain.

Here, for example, Glück assembles fragments of experience that imply — but also obscure — a larger narrative. It’s almost as if a short story, or even a novel, had been smashed like a glass Christmas ornament, leaving the reader to infer the sphere from the shards.

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We know there was a couple with a flat tire, and that a year later at least one of them still has feelings for the other. It’s hard not to wonder if they’re still together, or where they were going with those Christmas presents.

To some extent, those questions can be addressed with the help of biographical clues. The version of “Early December in Croton-on-Hudson” that appeared in The Atlantic in 1967 was dedicated to Charles Hertz, a Columbia University graduate student who was Glück’s first husband. They divorced a few years later. Glück, who died in 2023, was never shy about putting her life into her work.

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Louise Glück in 1975.

Gerard Malanga

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But the poem we are reading now is not just the record of a passion that has long since cooled. More than 50 years after “Firstborn,” on the occasion of receiving the Nobel Prize for literature, Glück celebrated the “intimate, seductive, often furtive or clandestine” relations between poets and their readers. Recalling her childhood discovery of William Blake and Emily Dickinson, she declared her lifelong ardor for “poems to which the listener or reader makes an essential contribution, as recipient of a confidence or an outcry, sometimes as co-conspirator.”

That’s the kind of poem she wrote.

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“Confidence” can have two meanings, both of which apply to “Early December in Croton-on-Hudson.” Reading it, you are privy to a secret, something meant for your ears only. You are also in the presence of an assertive, self-possessed voice.

Where there is power, there’s also risk. To give voice to desire — to whisper or cry “I want you” — is to issue a challenge and admit vulnerability. It’s a declaration of conquest and a promise of surrender.

What happens next? That’s up to you.

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Can You Identify Where the Winter Scenes in These Novels Took Place?

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Can You Identify Where the Winter Scenes in These Novels Took Place?

Cold weather can serve as a plot point or emphasize the mood of a scene, and this week’s literary geography quiz highlights the locations of recent novels that work winter conditions right into the story. Even if you aren’t familiar with the book, the questions offer an additional hint about the setting. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the books if you’d like to do further reading.

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From NYT’s 10 Best Books of 2025: A.O. Scott on Kiran Desai’s New Novel

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From NYT’s 10 Best Books of 2025: A.O. Scott on Kiran Desai’s New Novel

Inge Morath/Magnum Photos

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When a writer is praised for having a sense of place, it usually means one specific place — a postage stamp of familiar ground rendered in loving, knowing detail. But Kiran Desai, in her latest novel, “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny,” has a sense of places.

This 670-page book, about the star-crossed lovers of the title and several dozen of their friends, relatives, exes and servants (there’s a chart in the front to help you keep track), does anything but stay put. If “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny” were an old-fashioned steamer trunk, it would be papered with shipping labels: from Allahabad (now known as Prayagraj), Goa and Delhi; from Queens, Kansas and Vermont; from Mexico City and, perhaps most delightfully, from Venice.

There, in Marco Polo’s hometown, the titular travelers alight for two chapters, enduring one of several crises in their passionate, complicated, on-again, off-again relationship. One of Venice’s nicknames is La Serenissima — “the most serene” — but in Desai’s hands it’s the opposite: a gloriously hectic backdrop for Sonia and Sunny’s romantic confusion.

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Their first impressions fill a nearly page-long paragraph. Here’s how it begins.

Sonia is a (struggling) fiction writer. Sunny is a (struggling) journalist. It’s notable that, of the two of them, it is she who is better able to perceive the immediate reality of things, while he tends to read facts through screens of theory and ideology, finding sociological meaning in everyday occurrences. He isn’t exactly wrong, and Desai is hardly oblivious to the larger narratives that shape the fates of Sunny, Sonia and their families — including the economic and political changes affecting young Indians of their generation.

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But “The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny” is about more than that. It’s a defense of the very idea of more, and thus a rebuke to the austerity that defines so much recent literary fiction. Many of Desai’s peers favor careful, restricted third-person narration, or else a measured, low-affect “I.” The bookstores are full of skinny novels about the emotional and psychological thinness of contemporary life. This book is an antidote: thick, sloppy, fleshy, all over the place.

It also takes exception to the postmodern dogma that we only know reality through representations of it, through pre-existing concepts of the kind to which intellectuals like Sunny are attached. The point of fiction is to assert that the world is true, and to remind us that it is vast, strange and astonishing.

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See the full list of the 10 Best Books of 2025 here.

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