The original cast of “Saturday Night Live” was self-dubbed as the Not Ready for Prime Time Players.
Nearly half a century later, that label fits the exodus at Colorado under first-year head coach Deion “Prime Time” Sanders. According to Buff Stampede, 53 scholarship players exited the program after Sanders was hired in December, including 43 — many involuntarily — entering the transfer portal after last month’s spring game.
The parings were brutal, rude and, unfortunately to the departing, very legal.
Being cut or feeling unwanted in April is as cold-hearted as canning a worker with a family and mortgage a week before Christmas. With most football teams having exhausted their 85 scholarships, there were few landing spots for the ousted players.
The fairest way would be for Division I colleges to guarantee at least a four-season scholarship to high school commitments. While few programs pull scholarships based on performance and, if so, at a very limited rate, the reality is most scholarships are one-year deals subject to renewals. That means there is little protection for student-athletes who do not fulfill athletic or academic expectations, especially under a new coaching staff.
But not all is fair in college athletics, especially when it comes to labor relations with student-athletes. Star players have become more empowered because of the courts allowing them to profit from their name, image and likeness, and the NCAA’s granting of expanded training tables and cost-of-attendance payouts. But there still is an imbalance between players’ value and compensation.
It all can be traced to a history of ignoring the basic lesson of preschool: Sharing is caring.
There was a time when a college scholarship — tuition, room and board — was adequate for a student-athlete. But that also was when coaches were paid like tenured professors instead of national talk-show hosts. Bear Bryant’s first contract with Alabama in the 1950s averaged $17,500 annually. Hall of Fame basketball coach John Wooden’s last UCLA salary was $40,500.
And then with the boom in crazy TV money, premium-seat revenue and booster donations, the wealth was not split. Football and basketball coaches began receiving multi-year, multi-million-dollar contracts. Schools used tax-exempt revenue to build facilities and stadiums. Meanwhile, players had to work offseason security jobs for date money. They were not allowed to mention L&L’s plate lunches during interviews. Scholarship players had to smuggle scrambled eggs and hash browns to walk-ons, who were not permitted to eat at training tables.
Coaches received courtesy cars. But it was against NCAA rules for a player to be a passenger in one of those cars, even on rainy nights and buses on Hawaiian time.
Coaches were free to leave for another job, while players had to sit out a season when transferring between schools.
Then common sense and successful lawsuits began to benefit the players. The NCAA permitted cost-of-attendance provisions to cover livable expenses, such as toothpaste, clothes, snacks.
The NCAA first allowed graduates to play for a second school without sitting out a season, and then determined that every player was allowed a one-time transfer to play immediately. The NIL rules give players more earning power.
But there are consequences to the changes. The transfer portal induces teams to use players who might not be ready to avoid losing them. The NILs have opened the way for the re-emergence of street agents. In the old days, an “adviser” would steer a basketball player to an AAU team, and then to a college program. Now advisers can match a player to a school where he can make the most NIL money. There are high school all-star games where players are set to earn more in college than an assistant coach.
And nothing is etched in stone when partnerships are transactional. A player who enters the transfer portal is not assured a scholarship will be held if he retracts his application. And if players are free to seek better opportunities, schools are free to release players in search of better ones.
It would be ideal if players, coaches and athletic departments could find an equitable division of revenue. But in sports, as the Buffaloes’ stampede to the exits has shown, breaking even is rarely the goal.