THE BOOSTERS' LIBERATION ACT

               Change usually moves from west to east in this land so it was no surprise that the sharpest challenge yet to the NCAA’s long-held amateurism model came from California. Last month that state’s legislature passed a bill enabling college athletes to profit from the sale of their “names, images and likenesses,” a trio that quickly became so repeated it’s been reduced to its initials, NIL.

The “just pay ‘em” crowd cheered and pols in other states, always eager to please, promised similar bills. Some Congressmen also signaled a readiness to act. The NCAA at first sputtered and recoiled but then, earlier this week, promised to go along, starting in 2021. And just like that—a seeming revolution.

Don’t be misled, however. Putting a few more dollars in the pockets of college jocks isn’t a bad idea, but it’ll change little else. The law of unintended consequences lurks, and the exploitation and hypocrisy can continue.

 The fact is that the players do get paid and well, in the form of the scholarships they receive.Depending on the institution these range in direct cash value from about $50,000 to about $250,000 over their four-or-five-year term, plus the seven-figure lifetime-income boosts that typically come with college degrees. In addition, since 2015 they’ve been receiving “cost of attendance” stipends for things like laundry, travel and the occasional pizza that their scholarships don’t cover. These differ from school to school and in 2018 ranged from $5,666 a year (at the U of Tennessee) to $1,400 (at Boston College), averaging about $3,500. That’s not much, but it ain’t hay, either. And that’s on top of any sub rosa money some have gotten from boosters from time immemorial.

Further, anyone who thinks that an endorsement bonanza awaits college athletes is wrong. The jock-endorsement field at any level isn’t nearly as lucrative as many people think; while a few superstars such as Steph Curry, Aaron Rodgers and Serena Williams can sell their NILs for millions most athletes earn nothing from theirs. In the Phoenix area where I live the only regular current ads featuring sports figures are auto-dealer commercials by Kliff Kingsbury, the Arizona Cardinals’ head coach, and Arizona State U. football coach Herm Edwards, and some TV spots for a plumbing and heating contractor by Shane Doan, a retired Arizona Coyotes hockey player.  As far as I know, no active Phoenix professional athlete has any such gig.

A few college athletes could be exceptions; Zion Williamson probably could have landed a big shoe contract while still at Duke. Larger numbers of college athletes could be paid for the use of their NILs in video-game applications, but because of the many-way divisions the medium dictates individual payments probably wouldn’t be large. And no matter how sports loving, not many people would buy a car or even a hamburger because some college jock asks them to.

What’s more likely to happen is that the lifting of the outside-payments ban will take some currently hidden payments out of the shadows; call the new rules the Booster Liberation Act, if you will. Instead of paying kids under the table Mr. or Ms. Generous will get a bunch of them together and take their picture, then put it in their store or office window and call it advertising. Or they may have the kids over for a public autograph session at $5 or $10 a pop. The NCAA no doubt will address the booster issue and try control it, but as the shoe-company scandal in basketball showed, it will be as unlikely to succeed as are its current prohibitions.

The most important thing about the new opening is that it exposed the NCAA’s growing legal and societal weaknesses.  From its founding in 1906 the organization has been a political powerhouse, getting its way at every level of American government. Just about every president, governor, judge or legislator has an alma mater he or she reveres, or must be seen as revering, and a call from one of its reps could be counted upon to protect the school’s interests. The NCAA thus has functioned as a cartel other industries envied, its activities largely free from governmental meddling.

Alas for it, though, the way universities have warped their educational missions in pursuit of entertainment dollars has compromised their integrity, making them fair game for regulation.  Talk about reforms that go beyond the financial have been making the rounds in Washington in recent years, with the likes of U.S. Rep. Mark Walker of North Carolina and Sen. Cory Booker of New Jersey, a former Stanford footballer and current presidential hopeful, backing proposals that would do just that.  

Whatever Washington does it won’t tear down the campus stadiums, but things could be done that could improve the odor of big-time college sports and benefit the athletes that play it. A simple start would be to ban freshman participation in varsity sports, thus making sure that athletes have at least a passing interest in academics and get a chance to ground themselves in their classrooms before doing or dying for Old Siwash.

If that sounds radical it shouldn’t— freshman ineligibility was an NCAA rule until it was repealed in 1972. Additionally, holding freshmen out of competition but retaining their four years of eligibility already exists in the form of “red shirting.” This usually is done so the athlete can grow physically, but there’s no reason it couldn’t also apply to his or her intellectual development.  It wouldn’t right every wrong in the system. Cutting back the game, travel and practice requirements that amount to a full-time job and block anything approaching a normal educational experience would help more. But it’d be a start.