The playoffs are a unique Western invention. In other sports leagues around the world, most of the time, when you finish first in the regular season, you’re crowned the champion then and there. There is no need to qualify your greatness or try to etch your name into legend anymore. Someone else, meaning the calendar, did the job for you. There’s no more games to play, no more sudden death, no more churn to push through. You finished at the top of the standings, and here’s your reward:
A shiny trophy and an update, somewhere, to a Wikipedia entry. Two things of equal value.
In America, the playoffs are a gift. They’re an extra topping of dessert. Another month (or two) of play to decide the merits of a true champion who can live on the edge and manage to survive. In systems like this, such as the NFL’s, the best regular-season team doesn’t always finish the postseason on top. It’s rather quite rare, or at least happens less often than you’d think. The best isn’t always there when the dust settles.
