Big Ten, Pac-12 made only sensible choice by pulling plug on fall football

The temper tantrums from the adults were something to behold Monday. Nebraska’s Scott Frost was going to take his football and run to another playground, perhaps to be joined by Penn State’s James Franklin, Ohio State’s Ryan Day and Michigan’s Jim Harbaugh. Those heroes of the last-minute broadside against knowledge and wisdom revved up a formidable social-media brigade until their end run ran right into science and sanity.

Five weeks after the Ivy League canceled football and the rest of its fall sports, the mighty Big Ten did the same. The Big Ten used the word ‘‘postponement,’’ but it’s one and the same. If it’s safe to play sports in the spring, then everyone will be playing in the spring. If it’s not, then, sadly, the year will be lost for hundreds of student-athletes who had the terrible luck of being in college when a global pandemic hit.

Contrary to what the football-loving, mask-hating Twitterverse thinks, there is no joy for anyone in this decision. When the Big Ten postpones football, volleyball, field hockey and the like, it’s a horrible day. I’m a Big Ten alum, a proud Northwestern grad, and my sadness reaches far and wide. It goes from the student-athletes and coaches to the administrators who now must try to keep everything together — psychologically, emotionally and financially — as millions and millions of dollars that would have come in during a football season now will not.

The Ivy League, the smartest people in the room, knew exactly how to handle playing sports during the coronavirus: You can’t. The Big Ten, the conscience of the Power Five, knew, too. With so much more on the line, it took the conference a few more weeks to get there. The Big Ten’s cousin in the West, the Pac-12, naturally followed the Big Ten’s lead, leaving the ACC, Big 12 and SEC embarrassingly still standing.

Those three conferences need to answer this question: How many illnesses, hospitalizations and deaths will they accept to have their beloved football in the fall? Is there a number you’ll tolerate for your Saturday kickoffs? Does it reach double digits?

And what about myocarditis, the inflammation of the heart muscle that has been detected in young athletes who had COVID-19? How many of those cases are acceptable? What about deaths of 18- to 23-year-olds caused by a damaged heart?

These are tough questions that require leadership — intelligent, thoughtful leadership — not the outrage and bluster of a rogue, immature coach such as Frost, pandering to fans and Twitter blowhards.

The Ivy League was up to the task, obviously. The Mid-American Conference, too, and the Mountain West and others. And now the Big Ten and the Pac-12.

Wisconsin athletic director Barry Alvarez said Tuesday he had ‘‘a hollow feeling.’’ But that didn’t stop him from also saying this: ‘‘Sports are simply different from other campus activities. There is no way to preserve physical distancing during competition, and masking can make competition very difficult.’’

It’s just good old-fashioned Midwestern common sense. So why the cacophony of dissent? Is it perhaps not love of football but love of one’s political career? There is something very wrong with people who are angry about the noble decisions these conferences are making. For example, the pathetic political posturing of the Society of the Maskless, led by Rep. Jim Jordan, Gov. Ron DeSantis and Sens. Ben Sasse and Marco Rubio, is reprehensible.

If those so-called leaders had encouraged mask-wearing in March, perhaps we would be in a place to play football in September. But we are not, yet they still can’t see what they did or how they failed us all, their complaints now simply the background noise of those who have been outwitted, outsmarted and out-thought.