I have always loved college football.
Around here, that does not make me unique. Fall Saturdays in the South have a way of getting into your blood. But for me, it became personal on Feb. 1, 1986, when I signed a grant-in-aid to play football at The University of Southern Mississippi. I did not know it then, but that one signature changed the direction of my life. It opened doors I never could have imagined and helped put me on a path that led me to where I am today.
There was a time when college football seemed full of those stories. A young man would show up on campus with a duffel bag, cleats, and maybe a mama praying he would keep his head on straight. He would learn discipline, grow up, get knocked down, get back up and become part of something bigger than himself. These days, the game is starting to look less like college athletics and more like professional sports with marching bands.
Name, image, and likeness — NIL — was supposed to let college athletes benefit from their own success. And honestly, I do not have a problem with that. If Dr. Pepper wants to invite you to Fansville, or Nissan wants you in the Heisman House, good for you. A young athlete who works hard ought to enjoy some reward. But somewhere along the way, what started as compensation for name, image, and likeness began to look an awful lot like plain old pay-for-play.
It has changed the feel of one of America’s greatest traditions. In the name of television ratings and bigger checks, we are swapping Saturday night kickoffs for 11 a.m. television windows.
It’s also harder than ever to keep up with your favorite players. You finally learn a fellow’s number, buy into his story, and start pulling for him, and before you know it, he is off trying his hand at free agency with another school that made a better offer. In today’s world, Reggie Collier, Sammy Winder, and Brett Favre might not have become Southern Miss legends. They might have just been passing through Hattiesburg on the way to greener pastures.
College sports used to be about helping young men and women become better people through education, discipline, and hard life lessons. I find it interesting that whenever folks talk about “compensation,” the value of a free education often gets left sitting over in the corner by itself. Ask any parent who has sent a child to college, and they will tell you tuition, room, and board are not exactly pocket change.
Now, do not hear me wrong. College football had its problems. Scholarships are one-year deals, not four-year guarantees. I was at Southern Miss during a coaching change, and I had a front-row seat while some of my friends were shown the door. We could not just pack up and leave, but the school could send us packing. So yes, things needed changing. I just fear the pendulum has swung so far the other way it may have knocked a hole in the wall.
I am not sure where all this is headed. Everybody keeps saying something must be done but not much seems to slow down the money race. I can imagine a day when fans simply grow tired of it — especially fans of schools outside the biggest conferences, where the passion is still real, but the checkbook may never be big enough.
As for me, I hope college athletics figures this out before it is too late. There are still plenty of young people out there who need that scholarship, that coach, that team, and that belief that they can become more than they ever thought possible. There are many more Michael Callahans who need a chance to live a dream, earn an education, and be shaped by the game in ways that last long after the final whistle.
That, to me, is what made college football special. And if we are not careful, we may look up one day and realize we sold the best part to the highest bidder.
