Pretty lame sweatpants plus a Wyoming beanie. That’s what I received every year for free when I swam at the University of Wyoming. Yes, that was a while ago, in 2001-2005 long before NIL money. I got other clothing too! A parka and some warmups, both of which had to be returned at the end of the season or else what? I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t be allowed to swim the next year.
There was other clothing that the swim team got, but we literally had to buy it ourselves. No handouts. We were like modern day teachers, having to buy all the equipment and accessories to make us better at our job. Donations were welcome, but we didn’t get any.
So it is with shock and awe that I read about and hear about NIL (Name, Image, Likeness) money. Athletes making it in high school even, with California paving the way. Last year, Arch Manning had an estimated net worth of $6.8 million.
Let me slightly backtrack here though. Where does NIL money come from? Well, most of it, and all of the big payouts you hear about come from brands, appearances (such as coaching or speaking gigs), clinics, local companies, and social media. Very small amounts, such as in the hundreds per year can come from a group of supporters who want their donations to be awarded to players on certain teams, i.e. booster donations or NIL collectives.
Now, back to my time at the University of Wyoming. A recurring theme for all athletes at that time who were not on the football or basketball teams was that of being screwed over. Those athletes all got full rides. Protein drinks were on tap. Conversely, I had to beg for one after a workout. Were these athletes ever paying for clothing? Not even way back in 2001 were they. Everything for them was better. Although they did need babysitting; coaches literally peaking in on classes to make sure the football players were there. (Certainly not jealous of this bit.)
I can speak specifically for the swim team and I’ll say this until I die, we worked harder throughout the year than the athletes playing with balls for scholarship money. Furthermore, I can say without a doubt, that athletes within Olympic sports at DI universities typically worked harder to get there than most athletes in money-making sports, most of which field much larger squads, think 105 people on an NCAA football roster. Change my mind.
Now of course I am bitter. I mean, I would have loved to get a ton of gear for free. Heck, you should see the haul the swim team at the University of Wyoming gets nowadays. Embroidered backpacks? That’s freaking dope. I am jealous. A lot of these funds for better gear comes from universities having a more equitable approach to student-athletes who aren’t in the big moneymaking sports. And I love that. It should have been that way from the start, but I am glad things are getting better.
But now, the inequity exists in NIL money. The average swimming NIL deal is about $200 a year with 95% of NIL deals for swimmers coming in under $1000 a year. That is nothing compared to the six-figure deals high school seniors can lock in at their designated college program. Now, I am jealous, but not ignorant. There is no way swimmers or athletes in Olympic sports will ever consistently earn that kind of money from NIL deals. I’m simply wanting to burn it all down, the NIL money.
It’s been five years since NIL became a thing. That, plus the portal, and college athletics is a mini version of professional sports, with athletes making close to the same (or greater) amount of money as the pros, all for some kids whose prefrontal cortex won’t be fully developed for seven years. I can’t imagine the superiority complex this is giving our young adults. And, by all accounts, it’s rubbing off on the parents, 11% of whom believe their kid is going pro. An absolutely hysterical stat, especially considering that only 1.5% of college football players end up in the NFL. But, when a parent hears about the NIL deal their son or daughter can get at such and such a school they see the dollar signs and the prospects of their child’s athletic career grow accordingly.
The dam has broken and NIL money is seeping into every corner of collegiate athletics, so why do I even bother speaking out against it? That’s what I’m trying to figure out. It’s not jealousy. It’s out of concern for younger generations of athletes who, during college or after, actually might convince themselves they are deserving of all that cash. When the real world hits them how are they going to respond to it? With an heir of entitlement? Delusions of grandeur? We already have enough men with these disorders. Please, no more.
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