Following the decision that came down from 2021’s NCAA v. Alston, collegiate athletes can now profit from their name, image, and likeness (NIL) as they participate in sports.  This classifies these student athletes as pro-am (professional amateurs) and allows them to earn non-scholarship income across every division of collegiate sports.  The fallout following this decision has left many questions left to be answered, ranging from the tax implications of this earned income to the philosophical question of whether amateur athletics can still exist.
 
Our culture has already had a questionable relationship with collegiate athletics and the concept of student athletes.  Scholastic athletics (at all levels) were designed to be extensions of the classroom and provide a practicum of learning using concepts like competition and teamwork as the catalyst.  Scholarships were offered as compensation for the athletic services of a young athlete; in other words, the school gives the student a free education (and room and board) in return for playing a sport or sports for the institution (and thus growing the reputation of the school thanks to the publicity of having such a talented athlete).  And yet, prior to the opening of the flood gates with NIL monies, fans consumed college sports in ways that went beyond school spirit:  sports like college football and basketball were heavily monetized thanks to the constant national broadcasting of games.  There are now more sponsored college football bowl games than there are teams with winning records.  Media members analyze these games like the participants were veteran professionals and not inexperienced kids.  And the betting and wagering has practically flipped off any remaining statute that claims it is illegal.
 
With this new dynamic in college sports, it’s only a matter of time before society comes to its senses and realizes that the principles of amateur athletics have dissipated into oblivion.  One might imagine that these student athletes pay no attention to their studies or other scholastic responsibilities regarding their education.  But the gun-slinging will get even dirtier once institutions and collectives discover their limitless amounts of money that can be used to persuade a student athlete to transfer from one school to another on the promise of more compensation.  Unlike professional sports, we currently do not have contracts or salary caps to govern the business of these pro-am athletes, especially under the guise of higher education.
 
However, the pinnacle of this monstrosity resides at the top of the individual athletic departments that oversee these programs.  When athletic directors become as boisterous as the rowdy fans in attendance and forget their primary responsibility as the adults who are responsible for the education of these kids, it’s easy to see how college athletics have fully mutated into a bastardized minor league affiliate for the professional sports they feed.
 
Take Mark Harlan as an example.  The athletic director at the University of Utah, he came under fire when he made public comments about the officiating during a football game between Utah and BYU at the end of 2024.  The comments referenced how Utah’s loss was the result of the game being “stolen” due to calls made by the officials.  The Big 12 promptly fined Harlan $40,000 for his remarks.
 
A few months later, Kirby Hocutt became the next poster child.  The athletic director at Texas Tech, he made public comments about the officials’ decision to eject one of his star players from a basketball game due to a flagrant foul that did not appear to be intentional.  Hocutt’s comments did not appear to be as demonstrative as Harlan’s, which explains why there was no news regarding a hefty fine.  However, it doesn’t negate the fact that Hocutt felt it was necessary to make public comments about a call in a college basketball game that could have been kept private instead of looking to discredit the officials in the game.  (By the way, he made the comments publicly while the game was still happening.)
 
The question is not whether the person at the top of the hierarchy can hold or express an opinion normally reserved for a fan.  The question instead concerns the fact that the people at the top of the hierarchy might have forgotten their prime responsibility in the equation:  to steward the education of student athletes through the medium of sports, and thus setting the example for the players, coaches, parents, and fans to do the same.  Sports at all levels and in all forms come with tough breaks, and the lessons to be learned from them concern the athlete’s ability to overcome them, not to complain about them.  It’s no coincidence that the athletic directors have resorted to this behavior in a culture where the money in college sports has become weaponized.  After all, maybe a star athlete would be easily persuaded to take more money at another school if his ego gets hurt when the athletic director tells the student athlete to respect the officials, the coaches, and the other adults in the room.
 
Obviously, these two examples are not the sole times that athletic directors at colleges have spouted off in ways that draw negative attention or fines.  But they are two very recent examples in a world where college sports have become a new business filled with potential mercenaries.  In a capitalist society where social influencers, athletes, and other celebrities can (and have the right to) garner more attention and wealth than the hard-working people who grind each day to earn a living and provide for families, the least these administrators can do is temper their overzealous fandom and put their blessings in perspective.  However, the opposite may be more disastrous:  not acting inappropriately could result in the loss of future stars, sponsorship monies, and one’s job.
 
What’s more important:  the morals or the money?

As a college professor, I find myself feverishly grading copious amounts of assignments and tests to meet the ever-looming deadline for final grades when the semester begins to wind down.  Around the same time, however, I reflect on the overall performance of my students and their contributions to the wider field of academia.
 
College is a different beast than high school (or at least it’s supposed to be).  Almost all college students are legal adults and are given sole responsibility for their work.  Qualities such as class participation, attitude, and punctuality fall solely on their shoulders, rather than connecting home to parents or guardians who may assist along the educational path at lower levels.  The communication required between students and professors is valued so differently in higher education that it can literally impact and influence grades.
 
However, it feels like more and more students are failing every semester.  Sure, a substantial part of this comes from changes in culture that make students lazy or entitled.  However, what’s concerning is that these students lack the skills and ability to be an effective member of a class.  In other words, they don’t know how to be a student, a role that requires the ability to listen, take notes, organize, adapt, think critically, and, perhaps most importantly, ask questions.
 
Liken the setting of a college course to any sports team and you’ll begin to see similarities.  It’s no surprise that the players on the team usually want to be part of the team!  They understand what it takes to participate, both as players and as teammates.  Players who don’t want to be there (or who lack the understanding of their role and responsibility) find themselves either not playing, losing, or removed from the team.
 
Good players also ask questions.  They seek to better understand the strategy so they can do their part.  They choose a tone that emits an innocent curiosity and desire to succeed, not to be the center of attention or question the authority of the coach.
 
Sound familiar?
 
Students in a college course need to do the same thing.  They need to want to be part of the class (or at least understand the responsibility of partaking in the class, even if they might disagree with the requirement to take the class).  They also need to hold up their end of the bargain by participating and completing assignments.  Students who don’t do these things end up failing.
 
Good students also ask questions.  They seek to better understand the material.  They have a genuine desire for information, not for being insubordinate or usurping the authority of a professor.
 
Curiosity, when supported by solid communication skills, has the power to foster a strong connection between students and professors, much like it can between players and coaches.  Is it surprising that the students and players who participate in this manner are more likely to succeed?  Is it a coincidence that those who succeed can then help other students or teammates succeed?
 
I like to end every class meeting by asking my students, “What kind of question might someone have regarding what we discussed today?”  At worst, it forces students to review and reflect on the material.  At best, it gives an outgoing student the chance to help someone who might be too timid.
 
In closing, to quote David S. Pumpkins, “Any questions?”