Why pay?

In the Marx Brothers classic "Horse Feathers," college president Groucho goes in search of the best football players he can buy in advance of the big game. Unfortunately he ends up with Chico and Harpo.

Chico, as quarterback, warns an opposing linebacker "hey, watch out--you wanna get hurt? We're going to throw a forward pass."

OK, so they bumble to victory in the end, thanks to a few stretches in logic. Harpo’s touchdown run in a horse drawn cart full of footballs—each counting six points—saves the day.

At the core of the comic farce was a singular truth: college rosters in that day and age sometimes included players not enrolled on campus. And corruption continued through the decades, if stories about Woody Hayes turning F grades into gentleman’s Cs, packages destined for Kentucky basketball recruits spilling greenbacks or poker games in which boosters lost thousands to Penn State players are to be believed.

One summer during my time in graduate school, I worked alongside a Missouri fullback who intimated that he usually accepted a high paying “internship” provided by a supporter in St. Louis, but wanted to spend the off-season near the team’s weight facility. My teaching assistantship at the time—valued at $6,000 a year, not including books, room and board—hardly provided the same access to opportunity.

Yet we are told that student athletes suffer.

Certainly the millions tossed around for television rights, merchandise and sponsorship opportunities are denied them. Of course, graduate students in the sciences often provide free-of-charge assistance in projects supported by corporate funds, they’re efforts eventually paying off big time shareholders. It’s the same out of school, too. A friend of mine working with the U.S. military once developed a product that might have made him millions, if only the government allowed him to benefit.

That’s real life. Of course, we are talking about college sports.

We are asked to feel for these special athletes—especially now that Time magazine decided to weigh in on the paying college athletes debate.

Their argument in favor outlines a plan whereby Alabama, say, “could pay 50 of its players up to a limit of $30,000 a year” with better athletes earning more, reserves much less (and those lined up to play softball or lacrosse, to wrestle or swim—nothing).

Yeah, we all know both universities and networks make money on the exploits of big time college football and basketball players. It’s worthwhile to remember, however, that those taking the field for Ball State, Drexel or Western Illinois receive little airtime. It’s also worthwhile to remember that large schools use the income from football and basketball to fund other programs.

When doling out additional stipends for athletes, which sports do these schools choose to dump? And how do smaller schools fit in? How do they recruit? What about the service academies? Does the NCAA impose limits, or is it a free-for-all? If a school exceeds their salary cap … yeah, it would mean greater regulation and more scandal.

The proposal also dismisses brains while ignoring reality.

Simple fact: Most college athletic programs actually lose money. Few student-athletes become professionals. They know the drill. They are trading effort on the field, court or ice in return for a college education. Studies show that the degree can be worth millions more, in the long run.

It’s also worthwhile to consider the NFL’s free ride. Major league baseball teams pay for the development of young players through a network of minor league teams. Talented young athletes have the option of accepting an offer out of high school or continuing on to college, maintaining their amateur status in the hopes their stock will rise.

The NFL receives player development at no cost. Those favoring pay for play plans, however, wish for universities to shoulder the financial burden.

Fine—that’s fair, I guess. So here’s my plan.

Let’s offer all college football and basketball players—no one seems to care about the other sports, rest in peace—a flat rate of $60,000 a year. Out of this, they must shell out for full tuition (for which they must qualify), books, room, board, healthcare and everything else. Because athletes are often a drain, universities would save money. It would also teach values, in that guys like "Johnny Football" would not take the experience for granted. Meanwhile, smart student athletes might shop around, choosing a mid-major, say, instead of donning Huskers red or Nittany Lions blue. Their tuition would be less, their income greater.

But that would leave Nebraska in a less advantageous position. Oh, well—there’s always Chico or Harpo.