WRETCHED EXCESS

 

               “No tree grows to the sky” is a Wall Street adage, applicable in just about all cases. All except sports in these United States, that is. There the trees have penetrated the clouds and are heading starward, with no limit in sight.

               Annual salaries of our leading professional-team athletes have topped the $40 million mark across sport lines, as part of long-term contracts in the low-to-middle nine figures. Basketballers LeBron James and Kevin Durant, footballers Russell Wilson and Kyler Murray and baseballer Aaron Judge are among those in that category—Murray at age 25, for heaven’s sake. Can the first ten-figure contract be far behind?

               Up in the executive suite, the Phoenix Suns just changed hands for a reported (and record) $4 billion, that for a franchise rated by Forbes magazine the 13th most-valuable in the National Basketball Association. One only can imagine what the likes of the New York Yankees, Dallas Cowboys or Los Angeles Lakers might bring when their owners decide to cash out.

                The erstwhile amateur side of the scene has kept pace nicely, thank you. As I noted in my last blog, college-football bowl games continue to climb in number, and the game’s powers-that-be just decreed that the field in the season-ending national-championship football tournament will increase to 12 schools from four beginning in 2024, bringing an estimated $500 million more in revenues to our institutions of higher learning.  Twelve is a bad number for such a go-round, 16 a better one. A college-football season stretching into February seems inevitable.

               The main individual beneficiaries of the college-sports money gusher have been the head football and men’s basketball coaches of the 65 members of the “Power Five” conferences (Big 10, SEC, ACC, Pac-12 and Big 12), plus Notre Dame, that comprise the game’s upper tier. Once looked upon as amiable, whistle-wearing pedagogues, those guys now have all the trappings of corporate CEOs, paychecks included.

               The first college coach to hit $1 million-a-year in base pay was Steve Spurrier of the U of Florida, in 1975. That ceiling didn’t last long—the Gators doubled Spurrier’s salary the next year. Now, some college assistant coaches top the million-dollar mark. The current best-paid college football coach is Alabama’s Nick Saban at a reported base of  $11.7 million a year, followed by Dabo Sweeney of Clemson at $10.5 million and Kirby Smart of Georgia at $9.8 million. Bill Self of Kansas tops the basketball list at $10.2 million, with John Calipari of Kentucky next at $8.6 million.

               The public, me included, used to flinch when coaches landed big-money deals, but no more. Our universities are so entrenched in the entertainment business that little they do in that realm still seems excessive. Nonetheless, I was taken aback a few weeks ago when Arizona State University, my neighborhood Mega U., announced the hiring of a new football head coach to replace old-pro Herm Edwards. The new guy is Ken Dillingham, who at age 32 became the youngest football head coach in the top echelon. 

               ASU noted in announcing the move that Dillingham’s starting annual base salary of $3.85 million would be a tad under the $3.9 million Edwards was making, and about average for his counterparts on other PAC-12 sidelines, but the hire stood out on grounds besides the newcomer’s youth. Dillingham had been offensive coordinator at several schools, most recently the U of Oregon, but never had been a head coach at any level. Indeed, he never played football beyond high school.  

               And as the TV pitchmen say “Wait! There’s more!” According to the Arizona Republic and online sources, Dillingham’s pact contains guaranteed annual base-pay increases of $100,000 for each year of its five-year run, meaning he’ll be paid at least $4.35 million in 2027. He’ll get an extra $200,000 if any of his teams wins nine of its 12 regular-season games, another $300,000 if it wins 10, another $400,000 for 11 and another $500,000 for 12, which would come to $1.4 million for a clean sweep.

               If one of his teams plays in the PAC-12 title game he’ll get a bonus of 10%, or at least $385,000, and 20% ($770,000) if it wins it. If it makes any bowl game, which usually requires a mediocre six regular-season victories, he’ll get a bonus of 10%. That would rise to 15% if the bowl is “major,” whatever that means. He’ll get $100,000 for being named national coach-of-the-year and additional bonuses rising to $300,000 if team players meet certain academic goals. If one of his teams wins a national championship the school will erect a solid-gold statue of him. OK, I made up that last thing.

               One might think a young family man (Dillingham and his wife have one child) could afford some luxuries at $4m+ per annum, but ASU is kicking in some of those, too. They’ll get unlimited use of two cars or a vehicle stipend, free golf at the ASU course, dues at any private golf or social club, free use of a suite at ASU home football games and tickets to any others.

               In an earlier, less-expansive era, journalists would make the point of wretched excess by comparing sports salaries with those of ordinary and even extraordinary people, but the gap has become so great that seems kind of silly now. I’ll do it anyway: like just about every big-time state-school head football or basketball coach Dillingham will be his state’s highest-paid public employee (the governor of Arizona earns $95,000 a year). His $3.85 million base would cover the annual salaries of 70 K-12 public-school teachers in the state averaging $55,000 a year, or 33 ASU profs averaging about $115,000. ASU fans might give those numbers a thought while they cheer.