The REAL Problem With N.I.L

[How NIL is ruining College Football as we know it]

When Did College Athletes Become So Entitled?

QB Nico Iamaleava holds out of Tennessee’s spring game for a $2 million pay raise—$1.8 million more than he’s already making. WR Micah Hudson demands a chauffeur, cars for family members, and “personal days” as part of his Texas A&M NIL demands. DT Bear Alexander demands a penthouse on Hollywood Boulevard in addition to his 7-figure USC NIL package.

As of today, the average N.I.L deal for a team like Texas or Ohio State is worth $248K.

My question is:

When did these little assholes become so damn entitled?!

Contrary to popular belief, the answer isn’t as complicated as people think.

Let’s Get Something Straight First…

Before we dive into the madness, we need to agree on one thing: the term “student-athlete” is a complete joke. Unless I’ve been living in a parallel universe, “student” usually ranks just above “laundry” and below “morning workouts” on most college athletes' priority lists. And, thanks to the brilliant system we have fostered, the “student” priorities increasingly give way to the athlete priorities. So, what do we call them?

Athletes?

Free agents?

Shit-birds?

Honestly, I prefer the last one—it feels accurate. But for the sake of political correctness and the fragile few who might stumble across this article, we’ll go with athletes. Cool? Cool. Glad we cleared that up.

NIL: Necessary, Long Overdue, and Still Getting Butchered

Now let’s be fair: NIL (Name, Image, and Likeness) was needed. Desperately. For decades, college athletes have been making universities filthy rich—millions in TV deals, ticket sales, merchandise, you name it—while getting “compensated” with a tuition waiver and a bunk bed.

On the surface, that sounds like a sweet deal, right? I give you a scholarship to attend the prestigious Timbuctoo State College of Learning™️, and in return, you win championships and boost enrollment numbers. But let’s break that down:

That scholarship? Worth about $75K, tops. Your on-field contributions? Easily worth ten million if you're remotely elite. See the problem? Enter NIL.

What NIL Was Supposed to Be

Here’s the reality: NIL wasn’t created to turn college sports into the minor leagues. It wasn’t meant to be a bidding war for 17-year-olds with highlight reels. Because these are still amateur athletes. Read that again. Kids. Broke kids. Eating ramen and Venmo-ing each other for Uber rides. NIL was supposed to fix this:

I, Arch Manning, walk into the highly accredited Timbuctoo State College of Learning campus store. I buy a pack of No. 2 pencils for $1.47 (because I’m on a budget and these bad boys don’t come pre-sharpened). I pay in couch change. Then I glance to my left… and there it is. My jersey. On sale. For $417. My name, my number, my legacy—zero dollars in my pocket. I leave the store feeling like a broke-ass extra in my own movie and go cry in my dorm closet.

Then NIL bursts in the room, shades on, and says:

“Yo, University President. You couldn’t throw a 10-yard out, much less walk and chew gum at the same time, if your life depended on it. So how about you stop hoarding all the profits from my jersey sales and toss me a check?”

Boom. That’s what NIL was meant for—letting these shit-birds(sorry, athletes)—finally profit from what they’ve already been generating: jerseys, video games, autograph signings, IG promos, etc. It was supposed to be simple. Fair. Just. But like always, the adults in the room showed up and said:

“Hey guys, great news! We found a way to take this solid idea, completely overcomplicate it, and make everything worse than it was before!”

Enter the NCAA.

On average, schools generate 2.5 times the value of an athlete's NIL deal from each individual player.

National Collegiate Athletic Association: The Clowns Behind the Curtain

Now that we’ve established what NIL was supposed to be, let’s talk about how the NCAA took that shiny new toy and drove it straight off a cliff.

You see, the NCAA has a unique talent—it can take a good idea, flip it upside down, light it on fire, and then act confused when everything around them burns. And with NIL, they outdid themselves. They didn’t regulate it. They didn’t guide it. They didn’t even try. They basically said, “Okay fine, you can make money… we’re just not gonna tell you how.”

No guardrails.

It was like giving a bunch of high school kids the keys to Vegas and saying, “Try not to burn the place down.” Spoiler: they burned the place down.

Without any real oversight, NIL deals turned into open season bidding wars. Boosters, collectives, backdoor deals, TikTok influencers with six-figure offers—all in the name of “education,” of course.

You think I'm exaggerating? Let's look at a few real-world gems:

1. Jaden Rashada originally committed to Florida on a reported $13 million NIL deal… which promptly fell through. Like, oops, we didn’t actually have that money.

2. Quinn Ewers left high school a year early just to cash in on NIL at Ohio State—then transferred after riding the bench and still walked away a millionaire.

Some athletes are now entering the transfer portal not because of playing time or fit—but because some other school slid a bigger check across the table.

Michigan freshman QB Bryce Underwood signed a $10.5 Million NIL deal upon flipping his commitment from LSU

This isn’t NIL. This is the Wild West meets Wall Street. It’s no longer about monetizing your image. It’s about who can flash the biggest bag. And where’s the NCAA? Sitting on their hands, blaming “state laws” and pretending this isn’t happening on their watch.

Why Is the NCAA Letting This Happen? (Hint: It Ain’t Just Because They’re Dumb)

Now, you might be wondering: Is the NCAA just stupid? Like, actually incompetent? And while that’s a fair question—because let’s be honest, they’ve never exactly oozed brilliance—this mess isn’t just about being clueless. This is about power, money, and self-preservation. Let’s break it down:

1. They Got Punched in the Mouth by the Supreme Court

In 2021, the NCAA got body-slammed in NCAA v. Alston where the Supreme Court basically said, “Hey, you can’t keep pretending these kids are amateurs while you rake in billions.” It was a legal embarrassment. So, instead of creating a plan or framework, the NCAA panicked and said, “Okay okay, okay, do whatever you want. We’re hands-off now.” It wasn’t leadership—it was a cowardly retreat disguised as progress.

2. They’re Trying to Avoid Lawsuits

The NCAA is scared shitless of lawsuits. Every time they try to enforce something, some athlete, lawyer, or pissed-off booster throws a legal grenade their way. So, what do they do? They freeze. They look the other way. They let schools and states battle it out in the Thunderdome while they hide in the corner whispering, “It’s not our fault.”The NCAA has become a glorified referee who refuses to blow the whistle.

The NCAA v. House case is a significant class action lawsuit led by Grant House and Sedona Prince against the NCAA, which has resulted in a historic settlement. This settlement allows schools to directly pay student-athletes and addresses back damages and future benefits for Division I athletes

3. They’re Still Getting Paid—A Lot

Let’s not forget: the NCAA still gets theirs. TV deals? Still rolling in. March Madness? Still a billion-dollar machine. Conference realignments driven by money? Still happening on their watch. They might act like NIL ruined college sports, but their bank account doesn’t show it. In fact, the more chaos, the less responsibility they’re expected to carry. It’s the ultimate scam—step back, do nothing, and still collect a fat check while everyone else scrambles to put out the fires.

4. They’re Betting This Will All Implode—Then They’ll Step In

Here’s the real kicker: the NCAA is waiting for this thing to blow up. They’re banking on enough scandals, bankrupt athletes, pissed-off coaches, and broken locker rooms that eventually, people will beg them to take control again. And when they do, they’ll come back with stricter rules, bigger power, and the ultimate “We told you so” smirk on their faces. It's not oversight. It’s a long game.

So, are they dumb? Yeah—kind of. But more than that? They’re calculated. They’re letting the system burn just enough to stay blameless while still making money and planning their return. They’re not the clueless substitute teacher. They’re the lazy landlord who lets your apartment flood, then charges you a fee to fix the mess they ignored. And like every broken system, the ones who suffer most… are the kids trapped inside it.

How the Bag Is Ruining the Game We Love

You want to know what nobody's talking about in all this? The product. The actual damn game. The one we used to care about.

Because while we’re arguing about deals and payouts and which 19-year-old got a Range Rover for signing a Letter of Intent, something else is dying quietly in the corner: college football as we knew it.

Team chemistry? Dead. Player loyalty? Gone. Building a legacy? Not unless your name is Legacy and you’ve got a $4M NIL deal.

Guys used to stay and grind for 3–4 years. Now? They get a little adversity, lose a starting spot, or see another school waving a bigger bag—and they’re gone. Next flight out. These days, your starting QB might be at a rival school before the bowl game even kicks off.

Coaches can’t build anything long-term. They’re spending more time recruiting their own damn roster than scheming for next season. And fans? We don’t even know who we’re rooting for anymore. You buy a jersey on Saturday, and by Tuesday, that player’s on a private jet to Auburn.

And don’t even get me started on bowl games. Half these “stars” opt-out, so they don’t “risk their future”—because a 6-6 team playing in the Duke’s Mayo Bowl isn’t worth a rolled ankle when they’ve got a G-Wagon waiting.

We didn’t just open Pandora’s box. We handed her a collectives-funded Amex and said, “Go nuts.”

Many elite college athletes will make more money in their collegiate career than their first rookie contract in the pro's.

The Transfer Portal: Now Accepting Venmo, Zelle, and Soul Deposits

Let’s talk about the transfer portal, which has now become the biggest open-air market since the Dark Web Silk Road.

Except instead of AK-47’s and kilos of heroin, we’re trading linebackers for Lambos.

The transfer portal used to be a reset button. A second chance for kids who weren’t getting playtime or who needed a better fit. Now? It’s just another tool in the bag-chasing toolkit.

You’ve got players literally entering the portal with agents already lined up. Hell, some of these schools are tampering before a kid even hits "Submit" on his transfer request. It's not, “I want more opportunities.” It’s, “My DMs are open—bring the cash.”

We’re watching 18-year-olds bounce around schools like they’re on a gap year Euro trip. One year at Texas, next year at Oregon, finish up at Miami. Zero loyalty. Zero identity. Just the quest for a bigger payday.

At this point, the portal should come with a price tag and a promo code. It’s no longer about fit—it’s about flipping the highest bidder.

So, Who’s Really to Blame? (Hint: It’s All of Us)

If we’re being honest, the blame isn’t just on the NCAA. Let’s break it down like a pie chart of dysfunction:

·

The NCAA – 40%: Spineless. Useless. Allergic to leadership.

·

Boosters/Collectives – 25%: Running around with blank checks and zero common sense.

·

The Athletes – 15%: Yeah, some of these dudes are wildin’—entitled, short-sighted, and way too comfortable treating this like The League.

·

The Schools – 10%: Selling culture and tradition down the drain for a shot at one good season.

·

Us, the Fans – 10%: Let’s not act innocent. We’ve fed the hype machine, worshipped 5-star rankings like gospel, and now we’re mad that it’s turned on us.

·

Everyone’s got fingerprints on this mess. But only a few are truly cashing in from it.

Despite gaudy headlines, the majority of the compensation goes to football and basketball, leaving other sports out in the cold.

Where We’re Headed (And Why It’s Gonna Get Uglier)

If you think this is bad now, wait five years. We’re still in the honeymoon phase of NIL. Just imagine what happens when:

·

Players unionize.

·

They start demanding salaries, health insurance, 401(k)s.

·

Starters boycott practice over contract disputes.

·

Some team’s season gets nuked because a freshman’s crypto check bounced.

·

And here’s the dark little secret: it’s not slowing down.

In the future, schools won’t even pretend to care about academics. We’ll just start calling it what it is—a farm system for the NFL with stadiums full of accountants figuring out cap space for 19-year-olds.

They’ll have agents before they have classes. Holdouts before they hit the two-deep roster. And we’ll all be sitting around wondering what the hell happened to Saturdays.

This isn’t just a slippery slope. It’s a damn ski jump—and we’re flying downhill with no brakes and a booster collective pushing us faster.

Changing It? Most People Are Too Comfortable to Try

Now, let’s get real for a minute.

We’ve got a lot of people pointing fingers—NCAA, boosters, athletes, coaches—but here’s the real kicker: The system only changes if we get uncomfortable. The people who are actually benefiting from this mess have no incentive to stop it. Hell, they don’t want it to end.

It’s like a heroin addict who says they want to get clean but isn't willing to do the hard work of detoxing. It’s painful, it’s uncomfortable, and most won’t go through it. The same thing is happening here: people like the money, they like the power, they like the "glamour" of the current system.

But here's the truth: Change requires sacrifice. People have to give up the comfort they’ve grown used to, and that’s not happening anytime soon. Everyone’s too damn cozy. Too far gone. Until it gets too bad to ignore, most will keep pretending this is the way it’s supposed to be.

In the end, this train wreck isn’t just inevitable—it’s the result of a system that refuses to give up its addiction to money and fame. So, while some might hope for a miracle, the reality is most people would rather keep cashing in than face the uncomfortable truth that the game is fundamentally broken.

What will they say 5 years after college? Will they still be satisfied with the benefits, and (consequences) of NIL?

The Long-Term Consequences: The Game We Loved is Dying

If we keep letting this train wreck roll downhill, it’s not just the players and the coaches who will feel the effects—it’s the entire sport. Hell, it's sports in general. College football was built on tradition, rivalries, and the underdog story. It was about the kid who fought his way up from nothing, played with heart, and left it all on the field for the love of the game. But now? It’s about the highest bidder. The flashiest deal. The largest contract. The next payday.

And while the next few years might look flashy—huge contracts, new deals, high-profile players switching schools—it’s only a matter of time before the cracks start to show:

1. The Death of Tradition

Tradition is the lifeblood of college sports. Rivalries? Dead. You think kids are going to stay loyal to one school when they can move to another for a bag of cash? The schools? They’ve turned into free agents too, bending to the will of boosters who can’t even spell the word “legacy.” College sports used to mean something deeper than money. But as long as we prioritize financial gain over all else, we’ll keep losing the essence of what makes college sports special. And before long, we won’t recognize what we’re left with.

2.The Erosion of Loyalty and Team Chemistry

There’s no “team” when everyone’s just looking out for their own payday. Coaches won’t be able to build teams that gel. Players will be thinking about the next move, not the next game. Team chemistry? Gone. This is a business now, and businesses don’t have feelings or loyalty. They have numbers and ROI. How do you build something that lasts when no one knows if they’ll be around in two years? The answer is, you don’t. This system turns every player into a mercenary—moving for the best deal, and not sticking around long enough to build something meaningful.

3. The Commodification of Young Athletes

This system is training kids to see themselves as commodities, to be bought and sold on the open market. Is that really what we want? For 18-year-olds to think the only thing that matters is how much they can negotiate for their own value? The pressure of becoming a millionaire before you’ve even experienced adulthood is insane. The mental and emotional toll on these kids will be massive. When you treat athletes like products, you forget that they’re people—people who should be focused on growing, learning, and developing into more than just athletes.

4. The Collapse of the Fan Experience

And let’s talk about us—the fans. As all of this chaos unfolds, we’re left holding the bag. Our teams are no longer our teams. We don’t know who’s going to show up next season. We don’t know if our star player is going to suit up or jet off to the highest bidder. We might still scream at the TV when our team wins, but that excitement will be hollow. Because we know it’s all about the paycheck now, not about representing something bigger than ourselves. The college game will become a shell of what it once was. No loyalty. No heart. Just business.

5. The Dismantling of College Sports as a Whole

If this trend continues unchecked, we could very well see the dismantling of college sports as we know it. The biggest programs with the fattest wallets will be the ones at the top, while smaller schools get left behind. We could witness a complete collapse of the structure that has defined college football for over a century. And when the game becomes just another branch of professional sports, where’s the fun in that? Where’s the magic? The unpredictability? The underdog story? Gone. All of it.

6. The Inevitable "Pay for Play" Shift

Right now, NIL is about leveraging your name, image, and likeness. But once the floodgates open and the rules around NIL are completely disregarded (which they are), we will see this evolve into full-blown “pay for play.” Coaches and schools will offer salaries to players in exchange for commitment, and the system will be just like any other professional league. The thing is, once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no coming back. College sports will no longer be a breeding ground for talent; it’ll be a cash grab for the rich. And when we lose the soul of college sports, we’ll be left with a hollow, soulless version that only the money will care about.

It's safe to say that general consensus agrees on compensation when name, image, and likeness is used.

Conclusion: Is It Too Late to Fix This?

The damage is already being done. The shift towards a pure business model for college sports is in full swing. But the real question is: can we fix it before the game we love becomes unrecognizable?

The problem isn’t NIL. It’s how we’ve chosen to handle it. The problem isn’t the athletes. It’s how we’ve allowed them to become pawns in a much bigger game. The problem isn’t even the coaches, the schools, or the boosters—it’s the people running the show who are too comfortable to step in and say, “Enough.”

At the end of the day, the consequences of this system will be felt long after the players, coaches, and boosters have moved on. College sports, as we know it, is on the edge of a cliff. The question is: do we let it fall, or do we find the courage to do the uncomfortable work of saving it?

Unfortunately, as history has shown, most people are too comfortable in the system as it is. And until things get so bad that we can't ignore them anymore, the game we once cherished will continue its slow march toward extinction, and or irrelevance.

Spencer Brooks Otto - 2025