Oregon

EUGENE, Ore. — Perhaps it was James Madison going for it twice on fourth down on its first drive of the game.

Or, maybe it was coach Bob Chesney calling for a wide receiver pass on the Dukes’ second series of the evening. Even 12th-ranked James Madison successfully pulling off a fake punt could have adequately explained what the scoreboard failed to convey.

It was clear that the fifth-ranked Oregon Ducks were in a different class than their visitors in a 51-34 win in a College Football Playoff first round matchup Saturday at Autzen Stadium. Oregon led 48-13 midway through the third quarter before the Dukes added three late touchdowns to make the final score appear closer than the game really was.

“I think the scoreboard itself, every time we got down there we kind of shot ourselves in the foot,” said Chesney, who takes over as UCLA’s head coach after the JMU loss. “If we did not do that, if we did not end with 13 penalties, is this a little bit of a different game? Maybe. But at the same point in time, that’s a tough offense to stop, and I think it’s tough for a lot of teams in the entire country to stop.”

With James Madison’s loss, Group of Five teams fell to 0-4 all-time in CFP games. No. 17 Tulane fell 41-10 to No. 6 Mississippi on Saturday, too, while Penn State beat Boise State 31-14 in last year’s Fiesta Bowl. Alabama topped Cincinnati 27-6 in a 2022 CFP semifinal at the Cotton Bowl.

Following their loss to Ole Miss, Green Wave head coach Jon Sumrall brushed aside any notion of his team not belonging among the last 12 standing.

“We’re our conference champion and the rules are what they were, and I think there should be access for at least one G5 team moving forward,” Sumrall said. “I do. I think you should have given the American champion an opportunity before the ACC champion this year because we beat the ACC champion. So Duke won the ACC Championship; we beat them.”

To Sumrall’s point, Tulane beat a pair of Power Four teams in Northwestern and Duke, but those schools combined to go 14-11 in 2025.

James Madison, meanwhile, lost to its only Power Four opponent this season, with Louisville beating it 28-14 in a game in which the Dukes mustered just 263 yards of total offense. Most of the season, James Madison ran with the ball with ease against its opponents, rushing for over 300 yards in a game five times and over 200 yards in a game nine times.

But on Saturday, the Dukes mostly abandoned the run after quickly falling behind, and instead often turned to Sun Belt player of the year and quarterback Alonza Barnett III, who attempted a career-high 48 passes in the contest. Even so, Barnett was confident his team belonged in the CFP over other Power Four schools.

“I believe people saw that we were meant to be on this level. When you look at the Power Four teams and whatever, the destiny is really — the ball is in your court. You control your own destiny,” Barnett said. “Most of those teams that didn’t make it, they controlled their own destiny, and we handled what we could handle and we didn’t give into outside noise.”

Among Group of Five schools, James Madison did fare the best of any of them on offense in the CFP. The other three programs scored a combined 30 points in their respective playoff games, a total James Madison eclipsed against the nation’s eighth-ranked scoring defense.

But where the Dukes fell flat was slowing down the Ducks’ ninth-ranked scoring offense. Oregon ran the ball with ease, averaging more than 7.7 yards per attempt against James Madison’s run defense that entered the contest allowing the second-fewest yards per game in the country.

As has often been the case in matchups between Power Four and Group of Five teams, the greatest discrepancies existed in the trenches. To a man, James Madison could not adequately match up with Oregon, just as Tulane couldn’t with Ole Miss and many other Group of Five programs before them both failed to do.

“I think there were moments today where I feel like we could play with them,” Chesney said. “ And I think that today, the complimentary football, and us playing in the way we needed to just did not exist.”

Destin writes for the Associated Press.

To say the U.S. Senate has grown dysfunctional is like suggesting water is wet or the nighttime sky is dark.

The institution that fancies itself “the world’s greatest deliberative body” is supposed to serve as a cooling saucer that tempers the more hotheaded House, applying weight and wisdom as it addresses the Great Issues of Our Time. Instead, it’s devolved into an unsightly mess of gridlock and partisan hackery.

Part of that is owing to the filibuster, one of the Senate’s most distinctive features, which over roughly the last decade has been abused and misused to a point it’s become, in the words of congressional scholar Norman J. Ornstein, a singular “weapon of mass obstruction.”

Democrat Jeff Merkley, the junior U.S. senator from Oregon, has spent years on a mostly one-man crusade aimed at reforming the filibuster and restoring a bit of sunlight and self-discipline to the chamber.

In 2022, Merkley and his allies came within two votes of modifying the filibuster for voting rights legislation. He continues scouring for support for a broader overhaul.

“This is essential for people to see what their representatives are debating and then have the opportunity to weigh in,” said Merkley, speaking from the Capitol after a vote on the Senate floor.

“Without the public being able to see the obstruction,” he said, “they [can’t] really respond to it.”

What follows is a discussion of congressional process, but before your eyes glaze over, you should understand that process is what determines the way many things are accomplished — or not — in Washington, D.C.

The filibuster, which has changed over time, involves how long senators are allowed to speak on the Senate floor. Unlike the House, which has rules limiting debate, the Senate has no restrictions, unless a vote is taken to specifically end discussion and bring a matter to resolution. More on that in a moment.

In the broadest sense, the filibuster is a way to protect the interests of a minority of senators, as well as their constituents, by allowing a small but determined number of lawmakers — or even a lone member — to prevent a vote by commanding the floor and talking nonstop.

Perhaps the most famous, and certainly the most romanticized, version of a filibuster took place in the film “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” The fictitious Sen. Jefferson Smith, played by James Stewart, talks to the point of exhausted collapse as a way of garnering national notice and exposing political corruption.

The filibustering James Stewart received an Oscar nomination for lead actor for his portrayal of Sen. Jefferson Smith in the 1939 classic “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.”

(From the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

In the Frank Capra classic, the good guy wins. (It’s Hollywood, after all.) In real life, the filibuster has often been used for less noble purpose, most notably the decades-long thwarting of civil rights legislation.

A filibuster used to be a rare thing, its power holstered for all but the most important issues. But in recent years that’s changed, drastically. The filibuster — or, rather, the threat of a filibuster — has become almost routine.

In part, that’s because of how easy it’s become to gum up the Senate.

Members no longer need to hold the floor and talk nonstop, testing not just the power of their argument but their physical mettle and bladder control. These days it’s enough for a lawmaker to simply state their intention to filibuster. Typically, legislation is then laid aside as the Senate moves on to other business.

That pain-free approach has changed the very nature of the filibuster, Ornstein said, and transformed how the Senate operates, much to its detriment.

The burden is “supposed to be on the minority to really put itself … on the line to generate a larger debate” — a la the fictive Jefferson Smith — “and hope during the course of it that they can turn opinions around,” said Ornstein, an emeritus scholar at the American Enterprise Institute. “What’s happened is the burden has shifted to the majority [to break a filibuster], which is a bastardization of what the filibuster is supposed to be about.”

It takes 60 votes to end a filibuster, by invoking cloture, to use Senate terminology. That means the passage of legislation now effectively requires a supermajority of the 100-member Senate. (There are workarounds, which, for instance, allowed President Trump’s massive tax-and-spending bill to pass on a 51-50 vote, with Vice President JD Vance casting the tie-breaker.)

The filibuster gives outsized power to the minority.

To offer but two examples, there is strong public support for universal background checks for gun buyers and greater transparency in campaign finance. Both issues have majority backing in the Senate. No matter. Legislation to achieve each has repeatedly been filibustered to death.

That’s where Merkley would step in.

He would not eliminate the filibuster, a prerogative jealously guarded by members of both parties. (In a rare show of independence, Republican senators rejected President Trump’s call to scrap the filibuster to end the recent government shutdown.)

Rather, Merkley would eliminate what’s come to be called “the silent filibuster” and force lawmakers to actually take the floor and publicly press their case until they prevail, give up or physically give out. “My reform is based on the premise that the minority should have a voice,” he said, “but not a veto.”

Forcing senators to stand and deliver would make it more difficult to filibuster, ending its promiscuous overuse, Merkley suggested, and — ideally— engaging the public in a way privately messaging fellow senators — I dissent! — does not.

“Because it’s so visible publicly,” Merkley said, “the American citizens get to weigh in, and there’s consequences. They may frame you as a hero for your obstruction, or a bum, and that has a reflection in the next election.”

The power to repair itself rests entirely within the Senate, where lawmakers set their own rules and can change them as they see fit. (Nice work, if you can get it.)

The filibuster has been tweaked before. In 1917, senators adopted the rule allowing cloture if a two-thirds majority voted to end debate. In 1975, the Senate reduced that number to three-fifths of the Senate, or 60 members.

More recently, Democrats changed the rules to prevent filibustering most presidential nominations. Republicans extended that to include Supreme Court nominees.

Reforming the filibuster is hardly a cure-all. The Senate has debased itself by ceding much of its authority and becoming little more than an arm of the Trump White House. Fixing that requires more than a procedural overhaul.

But forcing lawmakers to stand their ground, argue their case and seek to rally voters instead of lifting a pinkie and grinding the Senate to a halt? That’s something worth talking about.