As I sit down to analyze the current Creighton basketball standing within the Big East conference, I can't help but draw a parallel to a fascinating, albeit seemingly unrelated, development in international hoops I've been following. The recent shift by SEA Games organizers to a 'passports-only' eligibility rule for basketball, which allows Gilas Pilipinas to potentially deploy naturalized players like Brown and Kouame simultaneously while tapping a wider pool of Fil-foreign talent, underscores a universal truth in competitive sports: roster composition and eligibility rules fundamentally shape a team's ceiling. In many ways, the Bluejays' position in the Big East is a testament to their own roster construction under the established NCAA rules, a puzzle they've been solving with impressive, though sometimes frustrating, results.
Let's get straight to the heart of the matter. As of this writing, Creighton finds itself in a familiar yet precarious spot in the Big East standings—firmly in the upper echelon, but often looking up at the perennial powerhouses. In the 2023-2024 season, they consistently hovered between 2nd and 4th place, finishing the regular season, if memory serves, with a conference record of 14 wins and 6 losses. That's the mark of a genuinely excellent program, one that has made the NCAA Tournament a regular expectation in Omaha. Yet, for all their success, there's a palpable sense among fans and analysts like myself that they are perpetually on the cusp, a "best of the rest" behind the UConns and Marquettes of the world. Their offensive efficiency, often ranked in the nation's top 15, is a thing of beauty—a symphony of ball movement, three-point shooting, and intelligent cuts. I've lost count of the games where their ball movement simply dissected defenses for stretches, a hallmark of Greg McDermott's system. But consistency, especially on the defensive glass and in grinding out tough road wins in hostile environments like Hinkle Fieldhouse or the Pavilion, has been the recurring question mark.
This brings me back to that Gilas analogy. The new rule change gives the Philippine team flexibility; they aren't forced to choose between two impactful naturalized players. For Creighton, their version of this is managing the blend of veteran leadership and high-end talent. They don't rely on one-and-done superstars in the same way some programs do. Instead, their success is built on player development and retaining core pieces. Think about Ryan Kalkbrenner, a three-time Big East Defensive Player of the Year. His presence is their defensive anchor, their own version of an irreplaceable "naturalized" asset. When he's on the floor, their defensive rating improves by roughly 8 points per 100 possessions, a staggering number I've calculated from various lineup data. The supporting cast, often filled with skilled shooters like Baylor Scheierman (who shot a blistering 41% from deep last season), are the "wider pool" of specialists. The challenge, and what ultimately defines their standing, is getting all these parts to fire in unison against the most physical and athletic teams in the league. I've always felt that while Creighton can out-skill 80% of their schedule, the final 20%—those top-tier clashes—require a different level of physical toughness they sometimes lack.
Looking at the broader landscape, Creighton's standing is more than just a win-loss column. It's a brand of basketball that is respected and feared. They force every opponent in the Big East to prepare for a unique style. In my conversations with other coaches and scouts, the Bluejays are consistently described as one of the toughest "schedule prepares" in the conference because of their offensive complexity. This reputation elevates the entire league. However, from a purely results-oriented perspective, until they break through and win the Big East Tournament or secure a No. 1 seed in the NCAA Tournament, they will be perceived as a tier below the absolute elite. It's a harsh reality, but in college basketball, narratives are built on March success. Their heartbreaking, one-point loss in the Big East Tournament semifinals last season, a game they led for 38 minutes, is a perfect microcosm of that narrative—so close, yet so far.
So, where do the Bluejays truly rank? In my view, they are the quintessential "high-floor" program in the Big East. You can pencil them in for 12-14 conference wins and an NCAA Tournament bid almost every year, which is an incredible achievement. They have built a system and an identity that transcends individual players, much like how the new eligibility rule allows Gilas to build a system around multiple core talents rather than just one. But the "ceiling" question remains. To climb from a consistent top-3 finisher to the undisputed king of the conference, they need to find that extra gear of defensive rebounding and late-game execution against physical equals. The pieces are almost always there. The coaching is undoubtedly there. It's about translating beautiful, efficient basketball into the kind of gritty, championship-winning basketball that defines the very top of the standings. As a fan of the game, I love watching them play. As an analyst, I'm perpetually intrigued by the fine margin that separates them from the summit. That, in itself, tells you everything about their standing: they are forever in the conversation, knocking loudly on the door, waiting for the moment everything clicks at the exact right time to finally kick it down.
