Over the weekend, my wife made a passing remark that has stuck with me ever since. She said she missed the days when you couldn’t watch every game on TV because that made the ones you could watch extra special.
Because she was so clearly trying to tell me something about my TV watching habits and her observation came in the middle of another marathon sports-watching weekend, I immediately dismissed her premise and flipped over to another game. But she may have been on to something. Once we, as college sports fans, told conference leaders and TV executives that we would, in fact, watch every game they aired, along with all the commercials, promos, corporate branding and gambling advice they could throw at us, the landscape of college sports changed forever. College sports could be monetized in a way once reserved for professional sports, and once the die was cast, there would be no turning back.
Mo’ money, mo’ problems.
You might be asking yourself, “Is this guy really complaining about a world where (almost) every single NCAA-sanctioned event is beamed directly into his living room? Get a life.”
For the record, I am not. I never miss an opportunity to watch a game I’m interested in, and I have no problem passing time with games I’m not even interested in. Heck, I’ll watch golf if I can’t find someone throwing, bouncing or kicking a ball, or driving a car really fast in circles somewhere. But I also understand, just like Superman did, that with great power comes great responsibility. And, as a society, we have abdicated our responsibility.
The values we supposedly hold dear in our personal and professional lives – honesty, dependability, honor and commitment – no longer apply to college sports. Nowhere is that more clear than the curious case of the transfer portal, the NCAA’s short-sighted, ill-timed attempt at staving off slam-dunk antitrust lawsuits.
The numbers from college basketball alone are astounding. AD Advisors, a consulting group led by a former Auburn athletic director (not to be confused with the Auburn’s current AD, whose sole focus remains stealing Mississippi State coaches,) recently analyzed 14,000 portal entrants since 2009 and found that roughly 65% of all Division I basketball players take their talents to the portal at least once during their collegiate career. An interesting fact, for sure, but meaningless without context. I bet we’ve all changed employers at least once. But have you ever left a job to take a worse job? Because that’s what most college basketball players end up doing. Among the Power 4 conferences (plus the Big East, this is basketball we’re talking about,) 70% of student-athletes who entered the portal transferred down to a lower level of competition or simply did not find a suitable roster spot somewhere.
Ethically speaking, the portal is equitable. You see, if non-athlete students on scholarships can transfer at will and potentially earn more lucrative scholarships, then so can student-athletes. But for big-time college athletes, the need for a “scholarship” left town years ago. These young adults want money, and some of them are getting it, often at the expense of development. And where does that money come from? Beyond the donor class, bagmen and corporate sponsorships, major conference athletic departments are flush with cash from – you guessed it – TV contracts.
I am cautiously optimistic that the House settlement helps calm things some. The transfer portal can (and should be) regulated, whether it be narrowing the window (each sport’s portal should only open after its championship ends and close before practice for the new season begins) or unlinking NIL from portal decisions (NIL negotiations should only begin after a student-athlete has enrolled at their new institution,) workable solutions exist, but only if we have the stomach for them.
Like we’ve done with so many of our longstanding institutions – education, government, civic discourse – we’ve sold college sports to the highest bidder. In return, we’ve gotten maximum entertainment, but also conflicting policies and increasing inequality. But, hey, what’s more American than that?
Philip Poe is sports editor.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 41 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 41 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
