A million here, a million there; it adds up to calamity

by Tony Basilio

It’s high time to recognize that big-time college football is a professional sport masquerading as an amateur game. And this time, the limbo between regular games and bowl trips, is its silly season, the time of year when coaches who are paid millions of dollars fall like dominos to other jobs and more millions, or else a cushy retirement. Don’t worry, they won’t end up in the unemployment line like many of the “student athletes” they coach will one day.

This isn’t your father’s NCAA. This is win-now, win-at-all-costs 21st-century arms-race football.

Tyrone Willingham is the most recent high-profile “victim” of the system. He departs Notre Dame after three seasons financially set for life. Are we supposed to feel sorry for the guy? He got rich coaching kids who play what used to be an extracurricular activity. Don’t get me wrong: I love college football. My wife, kids and close friends will tell you that I probably love it too much. And I’m not alone in this affection; college football’s popularity is busting at the seams.

When this next revolution of the coaching carousel is completed, there will be around two-dozen coaches who make more than $1 million per year. This means that close to one-quarter of the coaches in college football will be on the fast track to termination and riches.

David Cutcliffe is a wonderful man. He is what those in the coaching profession call a solid citizen. He’s old school and loyal. That’s why when the former UT offensive coordinator was asked to fire a couple of assistants following a disappointing 4-7 season, Cutcliffe refused. He reasoned that these were the same coaches who were competent enough to contribute to a 10-win season less than 12 months earlier. Cutcliffe bit the bullet on behalf of his assistants, forfeiting $1.2 million in annual salary. This is commendable.

But Cutcliffe also got a multi-million dollar buyout from the Ole Mess. As a twice-fired radio personality, believe me when I tell you that this is quite a severance package!

Cutcliffe’s termination was hastened by the fact that boosters grew tired of his terse manner. They not only wanted a football coach, but someone who would buddy up to them on the rubber chicken circuit. It’s a fascinating lot, this group of people who not only follow major college football but actually subsidize its madness. What would possess someone to care so much about a game that they would pour millions of dollars into landing the next “sure thing” in the coaching profession? When will the arms race end? At the end of this season, at least a half-dozen college coaches will have earned over $2 million for the year. The businessman in me says that it’s just simple economics, the law of supply and demand. But the rational being inside me wonders why and how major college football has escalated to such heights of absurdity.

Before corralling the next “sure thing” in Urban Meyer of Utah, Florida supposedly offered Bob Stoops over $3 million per year to defect from Oklahoma. One million dollars was thought to be the glass ceiling just a few short years back. These days, the coach at Kentucky (in football, that is) commands as much. How much farther can we go?

In the world of professional sports, shortsighted, greedy general managers and owners have spent themselves to brink of oblivion. All of the additional costs are passed on to a fan base that must either pay, or stay away. Major college sports have managed to remove the layer of GM’s and owners that their professional counterparts employ and replace them with glorified mid-level bean counters called Athletic Directors. These AD’s serve as nothing more than puppets of wealthy boosters who are de-facto owners of university teams. Meanwhile, the chasm between millionaire coach and poor young athlete continues to widen.

Can’t you see what we are doing to this sport? Sure, it was wrought with hypocrisy even a couple of decades back. But now it’s marked by a level of decadence previous generations couldn’t conceive. All in the name of being No. 1.

When Ole Miss—sorry, that should be “Ole Mess”—is talking about its next coach/victim making $1.5 million dollars per year, NCAArmegedon can’t be far behind: with each passing day, we are killing my favorite sport.

But it would be unfair to blame the coaches who are benefiting from this misplaced passion, just as it would be disingenuous to place all the blame on the administrators who deal these mercenaries like so many playing cards. We have met the enemy, and he is all of us.

Listen up! Tune in and talk sports with Tony Basilio weekdays from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on ESPN Radio WVLZ 1180 AM.

December 9, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 50 © 2004 Metro Pulse