The players who play NCAA Division I college football generate millions of dollars of revenue for their schools, but officially, their only compensation is tuition, room, board, and a laundry allowance.
We all know that isn't true, but we ignore the truth because we love the game and love the Ducks.
We ignore the inconvenient truth, even when the evidence crops up in obvious ways.
Remember the touching, harrowing scene last weekend? Kenjon Barner is motionless on the field, not moving for several agonizing minutes, the ambulance driving out onto the field, Kenjon's parents near him, his mother shaking, Chip Kelly with a consoling arm around her shoulders.
How does a working class family from Southern California afford round trip airfare, game tickets, meals and lodging to an away game in Pullman, Washington, then a few weeks from now to Berkeley or Corvallis? What about the other parents?
This isn't to disparage Barner or his parents. I vividly remember a sideline shot of Vince Young's family in the stands at the Rose Bowl a few years ago. It's a stock shot at many games, the-proud-parents-in-the-stands, whether it's Jake Locker or Casey McCoy or the PAC-10 player of the year or the Heisman Trophy winner. The night Dennis Dixon was injured, his dad came down from the stands. Where do those airfares and motel rooms come from? No one asks. It's just accepted. The year Maurice Morris came to play for the Ducks his entire family moved to Eugene from South Carolina. He had a summer job and bought all the kids bikes.
I'll give one other example, and then I'll leave this topic alone. I might be excoriated for bringing it up in the first place.
Remember the stories this spring about LaMichael James, and the unfortunate incident? The girl comes over to his apartment in Springfield, crazed and distraught, and starts an altercation.
The rest played out in the papers and blogs over several installments. James is not a bad kid; he accepted the consequences and was diligent in addressing his legal and academic responsibilities during a difficult time, and he deserves full credit for rehabilitating his image.
But no one asks, because we choose not to ask: how does a full-time student and athlete, raised by his grandmother, who died when James was a senior in high school, afford an off-campus apartment in Springfield, and a car to get back and forth to practice and class?
I love the Oregon Ducks. I love to watch LaMichael James run. He is a remarkable, once-in-a-lifetime talent, gifted, humble, hardworking. An admirable young man and a tremendous athlete. The last thing in the world I want to do is to make trouble for him, or any athlete on the Oregon roster.
But one trip out to the parking lot before practice, one visit to the off-campus homes of the athletes on any major college campus, and the not-subtle truth is right there before your eyes.
Players have Visa cards and xboxes and cable television. Their parents travel by plane to games 1200 miles from home. The money comes from somewhere. We knew it had to. It's just better not to ask.
I'm thinking the average college football beat writer at the typical NCAA school could blow the lid off the program in ten questions and a few interviews. Given they know what they know and see what they see, I'm amazed coaches aren't nicer to beat writers.
But every day we follow college football we are ignoring the truth and accepting a lie, because it's easier and more expedient than asking the obvious, glaring questions. These are the most talented 20-year-old athletes in the country, and 120 schools want their skills. Millions of dollars in television revenue, national rankings, and school prestige are at stake. In 2009, the NFL first round picks got a total of $834 million in salaries and guaranteed bonuses. Leave a pie like this out on the kitchen counter, and everyone in the house is going to tiptoe into the kitchen for a piece of it.
The NCAA, the schools, the boosters, the agents, and the athletes need to come out of hiding. As fans, we should demand dialogue and reform. The current system is like the war on drugs. It makes rich men and fabulous successes out of the best cheats.
No comments:
Post a Comment