Pay For Play? Yes Way!

In a show-me-yours and I'll show-you-mine world measured by the size of your social media following, Ohio State quarterback Terrelle Pryor sports 42,000-plus Twitter followers. Just up the road along I-71, despite having a year's professional experience and a nearly identical number of "tweets," Colt McCoy trails the so-called amateur by nearly 6,000 loyal readers. 

It begs the question: which one is the professional?

It's admittedly a rhetorical question and one that's exaggerated for show. But it does raise some intellectually challenging brainteasers for one to ponder. Namely--has amateurism as we know it gone out the window on hiatus to never return?

Last week, in a remarkable but somewhat impressive turn of events, Big Ten Commissioner Jim Delaney took a break from ruling the college athletics world and launched a grenade. Though instead of pulling the pin to an explosion of fury, the detonation was the analogous equivalent of a lone Benjamin falling gracefully into the bread basket of aspiring guitarists strumming for scraps on the corner. Delaney said the issue of paying players additional financial stipends beyond their tuition, room & board and per diem on the road was one that deserved serious additional consideration. In other words.. paying players. 

Whoa. Color me shocked and awed. 

The concept isn't new. It's not even one that wasn't likely to be raised if left to someone else's volition. But by the head of the most sluggishly traditional conference on Earth? If not for being on the receiving end of the Big Ten media coordinator Scott Chipman's emails on a few occasions, I'd be nearly convinced Delaney still uses a typewriter for his memos. But score one for Delaney as his outside-the-box, forward-thinking helped shape the Big Ten Network, dislodged conference affiliation from its foundation and now they're leading the charge bringing athlete recognition into the twenty first century. 

Many are reluctant to come around on this issue. After all, one might say, isn't a free education--valued at over $100,000---worth anything these days? The answer: not when you're indentured servants. 

If this were the business world, the NCAA and its member institutions would already be lectured for their abusive reliance on unpaid interns. The U.S. Department of Labor is cracking down on businesses who use interns for financial gain to perform work that exists outside of the realm of normal training activities. There is a six-pronged test that exists to subjectively label if someone is an intern or an employee. 

Of course, while institutions are not your run-of-the-mill businesses as we know them, it's getting harder and harder to distinctly separate the two. More on that in a few moments. 

One of the major bullet points in the litmus test, however, reads the following: "The employer that provides the training derives no immediate advantage from the activities of the intern; and on occasion its operations may actually be impeded."

And that brings us back to a previous point...can we honestly differentiate a major athletic department from a business these days? It's certainly hard to argue, from the foregoing, that universities aren't benefiting from the hard work and stature of their athletes--especially in football and men's basketball. The NCAA men's basketball tournament, in fact, will bring in $10.8 billion through 2024 from CBS and Turner. That could feed a lot of guitarists.

In the 2008-09 athletic season, USA Today figures suggest that three schools (Ohio State, Texas and Florida) received an operating revenue over $100 million. It has been estimated that figures for this past season will show as many as five or six more schools surpassing that threshold. Now let's be clear about one thing: the costs of operation are enough paying athletes additional stipends might not be financially viable at many schools, but debt is an epidemic plaguing many businesses and doesn't do much to dissuade the appearance of commerce, so we'll ignore that aspect--for now.

This dynamic, for all intents and purposes, began earnestly in 1984 with a lawsuit shaking the NCAA to its core. As a result, the hopes of a playoff system in college football were dashed and the ultimate amateurism paradox was created: if you run athletic departments as businesses, the players need to be paid but if the players are paid, there would be few businesses left to run. That's the law of unintended consequences for you.

Then bound by an NCAA limitation on television appearances and oversight of all television contracts, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a lower decision forced in an antitrust lawsuit by the Universities of Oklahoma and Georgia's board of regents that ruled such limitation was unlawful. The ruling meant each university, or its conference on its behalf, could negotiate its own media rights deal. It's the same ruling that has ultimately allowed the Big Ten's formation of the Big Ten Network--which is bringing in millions of dollars annually in cable rights fees--and most recently the formation of the Bevo Network which will guarantee the University of Texas $12 million from ESPN to distribute UT athletics' events. 

In 1991, feeding off the controversy surrounding co-championships in football in 1990 and 91, a group of conference administrators got together to form the "Bowl Alliance" which was an attempt at creating a de Facto National Championship game, though it was as much a realization of additional revenue. The alliance, which initially included the ACC, Big East, Southwest Conference, Big 8 Conference and SEC, later expanded to include the initially hesitant Big Ten and Pac-10. By 1997, the latter named Bowl Coalition transformed into the modern day Bowl Championship Series. 

The BCS is essentially a private group with tax-exempt status that, like soccer's FIFA, makes its own rules and pays off the people necessary to keep it going smoothly. It operates 100 percent independent of the NCAA and paid out $174 million in revenue last year ($145 million of which went to the six major conferences). Though the organization has parameters for executive selection, the leaders are essentially handpicked by athletic heavy hitters and detractors are simply silenced with frivolous gifts, lavish vacations and promises of personal or department gain. 

The BCS is currently undergoing assault on the integrity of the system by the U.S. D.O.J. for possible antitrust violations, which essentially asserts that the system of selection and reimbursement creates a monopoly to select conference member schools. Additionally, private organization Playoff PAC (political action committee) challenged the BCS tax-exempt status this past September on grounds that recently disclosed expenses and salaries are excessive and beyond the scope of being a charity organization. In fact, Sugar Bowl CEO Paul Hoolahan reportedly received a salary of $645,000 in 2009. It seems he threw out his guitar a long time ago.

But it's not just the bowl games receiving this kind of dough. One could argue the disbursement feels like a pyramid scheme in the way the fat cats are paid, but I digress.

With coaches making an average salary nationally well over seven figures; bowl executives, athletics directors and conference officials also taking part in the financial windfall, one has to question why we continue to justify the players getting peanuts under the guise of amateurism? Nearly 105,000 people pay an average of $70 a ticket on 6-8 Saturday afternoons a season to see Pryor throw a spiral (or wounded duck, depending on the day). Given the demand to see his next Tweet, receive his next signature, purchase his next trophy, or pay, for some, the equivalent of a typical paycheck to allow a family of four the opportunity to view Pryor's next game in person, one has to wonder why some of the greenbacks aren't rightfully funneled his way.

Ah yes, because he's getting an education.

That was fine in 1980. Because it was true back then. Hitting the books was not just noble, but a goal of most athletes. But in this day and age, one of which is largely a breeding ground for (paid) professional dreams, he or she is spending year-round training, responsible for conduct on and off the field, must comply with NCAA regulations and is responsible for practicing nearly 20 hours a week during the season. Athletes even sign the equivalent of a one-year non-compete agreement should they choose to go elsewhere. Once again the government has a word for that: employee.

Living in a fish bowl, being expected to uphold many arbitrary regulations all the while making people millions of dollars doesn't sound like something that could be fairly compensated for by mere tuition. And apparently, even Delaney agrees. 

The admittedly rudimentary proposal being discussed would compensate athletes some $5,000 per academic year to allow for additional housing, transportation and food expenses that fall through the cracks. Some would say it's simply a cleverly designed method of calling a spade a spade--paying players on their own accord before antitrust fallout forces more unfriendly terms.

There most certainly would be complications. Many universities are so far overrun with costs, they simply could not afford to pay athletes. After all, Title IX, has been broadly interpreted to include athletic scholarship and the disbursement and reimbursement of such. This means, effectively, that any additional payment of athletes would have to be same for women's sports even if the revenue created was not identical. While some schools might be able to afford a select few sports, paying hundreds of scholarship athletes in 20-30 varsity sports might not be as feasible. 

Still, right is right. The system is broke mechanically and intellectually. Where will the money come from? Well, there's no shortage of exuberant salaries up the food chain to skim. Ultimately, a mere redirection of BCS funds toward a playoff system could solve the problems. After all, by Delaney's own admission (a man that also is partially responsible for keeping the BCS intact), a playoff system could garner some $700 million annually in revenue--a 400 percent increase. 

As television contracts, ticket prices and conduct expectations skyrocket, player compensation has remained stagnant. When profit-loss and income statements rule the day, this reflects poorly on organizations functioning more for business interests than legitimate training purposes--or in the college athletics world, amateurism.

So when the next hotshot college QB gains another dozen Twitter followers, isn't it time a dollar bill is in tow? Delaney's Facebook page now thinks so. It's even expressly written in classic Times New Roman for old time's sake.

Still, Delaney is getting with the times. A Twitter confirmation can't be far behind.