A slice of the pie for those who bake it

Earlier this fall, I wrote a column about a proposed change to NCAA rules that would add a $2,000 “living expenses” grant to all full athletic scholarships in Division I. (The proposal has since been approved.) This rule change will have no direct effect on the Ivy League, which does not allow athletic scholarships of any kind, although you could make a case that it further widens the competitive balance between Ivies and the conferences that do give out athletic-based aid.

My interest, however, is in the issues this rule change raises about dividing up what has become a very large pie in the world of college athletics. How do student-athletes figure into the business model of a multibillion-dollar industry, and how—if at all—should they be compensated?

A brief update on what has become a very lively and controversial debate revolving around college athletics: As revenue sports—mainly football and basketball—rake in more and more money through ticket sales, merchandise sales, licensing fees for video games, and lucrative television deals, it has become harder and harder to justify denying student-athletes any sort of compensation when they are the driving force behind this entire industry. Others have countered that the free education student-athletes receive more than compensates them for their troubles. To this, many have complained that full scholarships do not truly cover the cost of attending college, a gap the additional $2,000 is intended to close.
Yet there is a fundamental question absent from much of this debate: Where would the money come from?

When I wrote my column about the additional money to be included in athletic scholarships, a reader warned in an online comment that raising the cost of scholarships could have a harmful effect on non-revenue sports like soccer. This was noteworthy for two reasons—first, because someone actually commented on a column of mine, and second, because it was a really good point. Several weeks ago, Sports Illustrated ran a feature on this very subject and proposed a business model whereby nearly all men’s non-revenue sports would become club sports, freeing up money to pay all other athletes. (Due to the legal restrictions imposed by Title IX, women’s varsity teams were largely exempt from the cuts.) I played varsity soccer here for four years, and I cannot tell you how bad of an idea I think this is.

The fact remains, though, that most schools’ athletic programs are either in the red or barely breaking even, and even a marginal increase in cost per student athlete could jeopardize most schools’ athletic budgets. Why, then, is there even a discussion about increasing compensation for student-athletes? Even the rule change cited earlier must be approved by conferences individually, meaning big-time schools in leagues like the ACC and Big Ten are likely to agree to foot the bill while smaller conferences could balk at the price tag.

For the solution to this quandary, look no further than the deal the NCAA recently cut with CBS and Turner Sports to televise the annual men’s basketball tournament, otherwise known as March Madness. This deal will pay the NCAA $10.8 billion simply for the right to put the games on television. It is a monstrous amount of money—a deal so huge that it has its own Wikipedia page.

Combine that with the $500 million ESPN pays to televise the BCS bowl games every year, and you have upwards of $11 billion changing hands just to put three weeks of college basketball and five college football games on TV. As Michael Wilbon asked over the summer, would the quality of these events be diminished if we took $1.3 billion off the top of these funds and used it to compensate athletes? He didn’t think it would, and I don’t either.

I don’t know how it would work. Personally, I would favor a system that pays some sort of a living stipend to all women’s basketball, men’s basketball, and football student-athletes. In the interests of fairness, it would have to be the same amount paid to everyone, regardless of sport or school. (SI suggested $1,000 per month, although this seems a little high if we’re talking about a stipend and not a salary, particularly when a full scholarship already covers room and board.) One important point here is that non-revenue sports, including soccer, would not receive the stipend. Who knows how this would affect the relationship between revenue and non-revenue sports. Other questions remain: How would Columbia, which is eligible for March Madness in basketball but does not compete in the Football Bowl Subdivision—and the lucrative BCS bowls which decide that division’s champion—compensate its student-athletes? I don’t know the answer to these questions, but I do think they’re worth considering.

Here’s the point: If TV deals are paying out billions, it doesn’t seem right that the student-athletes who are at the center of the product that major networks are paying for don’t see a dime of that money. This is not a revolutionary conclusion, either. Three hundred men’s basketball and football players from Kentucky, Purdue, UCLA, Georgia Tech, and Arizona signed a petition asking the NCAA for a slice of this TV money just over a month ago.

And while I doubt that the NCAA will turn around and offer them a cut, they have a point. While it is true that schools do not have the funding to simply tack on a stipend for student-athletes, the money is out there. The question people should be debating is how to distribute it.

Zach Glubiak is a Columbia College senior majoring in history. He is a member of the varsity men’s soccer team
sports@columbiaspectator.com