Alliance? TV money calls the shots in college football

“The Big Lie” is taken, so let’s go with choice No. 2. Let’s call college football’s newest socalled “alliance” — the one linking the Pac-12 with the ACC and Big Ten — what it absolutely deserves to be called: The Big Joke.

This “alliance” was not clinched with a contract, or even a handshake, but rather with “eye contact” among its three commissioners. That’s what one of them actually said Tuesday. We’ll get back to that.

First, know this (as if you don’t already): There are no alliances in college football.

There is only television money. The idea is to get as much as you can and share as little as possible.

The 41 institutions that comprise The Big Joke now sit together like patrons at a murdermystery dinner, or like the characters in the movie “Knives Out.” Anyone at your table could and would betray you. Destroy you. No one should be trusted.

If the SEC invites one or more of those 41

schools to join anytime soon, moving toward a super conference, all the eye contact in the world won’t matter. Those schools will take off like Usain Bolt on Red Bull, and everybody knows it.

Now, it’s not like The Big Joke conferences are poor. The Big Ten, in fact, was the largest revenue-producer in college football last season. But this is about where the sport is headed and which “alliance” will generate the most cash moving forward.

It’s about who will be left behind.

TV money is what prompted Oklahoma and Texas to abandon the Big 12 for the SEC (some would say ESPN drove that train). And TV money is what could one day produce a conference of only the monster revenue teams.

That’s where it gets worrisome for at least half the schools that make up the Power 5, schools such as Pitt and West Virginia, which is already in trouble with the Big 12 wobbling.

Maybe we never get to an exclusive super conference. Maybe The Big Joke will help “stabilize” college football outside the SEC (one commissioner actually used that word, too) and win its lesser members a long life of peace and prosperity.

But if you’re running Pitt athletics, are you betting on that?

Or are you betting on the time-tested theory that when one domino falls in college sports, many follow?

We all saw the Big East blow up in the early 2000s, sending teams scurrying to avoid certain death. Alliances crumble when the water’s rising. West Virginia had to go clear across the country to save itself. Pitt barely made it to the life raft that was the ACC.

I’m with longtime college football writer Stuart Mandel, who writes in The Athletic: “I believe college football is headed toward an eventual Premier League-type confederation of the top 25-30 or so programs that generate the overwhelming majority of the sport’s revenue. Whether that’s 5, 10, 15 years away, couldn’t tell you.”

Penn State is safe no matter how the dominos fall. Its football program ranks among the top cash cows in the country. Not so for Pitt and especially West Virginia.

Pennlive.com last year obtained figures on all 65 Power Five schools from the 2018 season. West Virginia was 65th in gross revenue. Pitt was 53rd, just ahead of Missouri and just behind North Carolina.

Maybe The Big Joke will serve its low-revenue producers in the long run. Pitt should hope so. I’m not sure what the alternative is here. But we all know how “alliances” work in college sports. Tenuously, at best. Murderously, at worst. Meanwhile, did you hear ACC commissioner Jim Phillips on Tuesday? The man actually had the gall to utter the following 15 words, upon the official announcement of The Big Joke collaboration: “It’s about trust. We’ve looked each other in the eye and made it an agreement.”

Wait, so there isn’t even a contract here? (Not that anyone abides by those in college sports.) Not even a handshake?

Just eye contact?

Big Ten commissioner Kevin Warren talked about The Big Joke’s alleged priorities.

“Today, through this alliance,” he said, “we furthered our commitment to our student-athletes by prioritizing our academics and athletics value systems.”

I’m glad to hear that. Really I am. But if I’m charged with securing the future of Pitt football, my uneasiness grows.

These people can talk all they want about their common goals and shared vision. About stability and studentathlete report cards. We all know the code they live by. It’s the one they have learned over time, often the hard way. It’s the one every school knows.

Knives out.