Breaking the college athlete
It’s high time that the National Collegiate Athletic Association was on the defensive for wringing out the dreams, aspirations — and bodies — of generations of students whose talents fuel the images of their institutions and overpaid coaches.
After dedicating much of their lives to making it to the college level, too many young men and women are literally broken and abandoned either during their four years, or afterward, for the greater glory and finances of the alma mater. That’s what U.S. Sen. Chris Murphy has found in the latest phase of his probe into the NCAA. It’s incendiary title is “Madness, Inc. How College Sports Can Leave Athletes Broken and Abandoned.”
It should be mandatory reading for athletes and sports fans of all ages. As are Rick Wolff ’s podcasts of the Sports Edge, his Sunday morning show on WFAN.
“I am a sports fan, a college sports fan,” Murphy, a former high school basketball player, recently said in the State Capitol. “I know how important athletics is to the development of a young person. I think it has a very important role to play in college today. Unfortunately, college athletics have become professionalized. And increasingly, adults in the system are making millions and millions of dollars and leaving behind athletes who remain poor and whose bodies are broken in the process.”
The system is rigged in favor of the schools, with the allure of bigtime Division I schedules and the regional and national exposure on the high end, and the chances to play at the smaller, more academically rigorous Division II and Division III schools that better fulfill the word “amateur” or scholar/athlete.
I love that the state of California broke the logjam last year and declared that college athletes can cash in on their fleeting stardom. And I’m almost shocked that the NCAA seems to have caved in. I fear it’s more like ropeadope strategy though, with the NCAA feigning concessions with a tacit agreement that players can make money on their images — within NCAA guidelines — whatever that means.
Over the last few months I haven’t seen any movement from the NCAA, as yet another university class heads toward spring graduation and another cohort of high school seniors gets sucked into the dream machine.
Of course, we’re talking primarily about the bigrevenue sports of football and basketball, where the pro ranks can beckon the best of the best, such as Joe
Burrow, the Heisman Trophywinning quarterback from LSU who’s a likely firstround draft pick in the NFL.
Why shouldn’t he be allowed to get a portion of the proceeds on the sale of Tshirts with his name on them?
Murphy points out that the Division I manual has 400 pages, including 38 pages focused on preventing athletes from making money. “One page is dedicated to the health of college athletes,” he said. “That speaks to the misplaced priorities of the NCAA today.”
Who’s more immortal than an 18yearold who’s made it to a college or university? Injuries happen. Mishaps in recruiting occur and players can find themselves with very little playing time. There can be friction with coaches.
At the University of Connecticut Bookstore, you can pay $100 for a replica UConn football shirt with the number 18 on it. That seems to be the only number available and coincidentally is the shirt worn by Abiola Olaniyan, a 180pound defensive back from Virginia who played in seven games during the forgetfully dreadful recent 210 season. He made five tackles and grabbed an interception.
So maybe Olaniyan is not on track to become an All American, but why shouldn’t he make $25 on the sale of that $100 shirt, even if his name isn’t on the back? Why shouldn’t he make $50 on the shirt and buy enough pizza for his teammates in the defensive backfield.
Administrators talk about the values of a college scholarship and that’s fine, and I hope Olaniyan is making some good memories in what is essentially a fulltime job in addition to being a fulltime student. But what kind of value is Coach Randy Edsall giving for $1.1 million? And no one would want a jersey with Edsall’s name on the back.
I was lucky enough to play Division I soccer back in the dark ages, when players could actually walk over from the dorm, try out for the team and play. Somewhere in the attic is a cardboard box containing an MVP trophy. In a closet is an Ohio University letter jacket, which for a long time, was the warmest thing I owned. Soccer practically defined my high school experience and helped get me into college.
I loved playing. I still love playing. I’ve played with guys — and a few women, thankfully — from around the world. Nigeria, Germany, England, Portugal, Jamaica, Mexico, Brazil, Peru, Nicaragua, Kuwait, Jordan, Ethiopia, Saudi Arabia, even Cleveland.
I’ve been thinking a lot of the last few days about a gentleman from Iran with whom I played at OU and lost touch with after graduation. I hope he’s well.