Nick Saban found himself in a remarkable position this week. There he was on Capitol Hill, testifying before Congress in support of the Protect College Sports Act, arguing that college athletics desperately needs structure, leadership and federal intervention before it spirals completely out of control.
At virtually the same moment, the Southeastern Conference — the very empire Saban helped build into the most powerful force in college sports history — was helping lead the opposition to that same legislation.
If there has ever been a better illustration of everything that is wrong with college athletics, I surely haven’t seen it.
Saban is not just another retired coach. He is arguably the most influential figure in SEC history. More than anyone else, he transformed Alabama into a dynasty, elevated the SEC into college football’s dominant brand and helped create the television monster that now generates billions of dollars for the conference and its member schools. The SEC Network doesn’t exist in its current form without Nick Saban. The conference’s extraordinary financial success is directly tied to the football product he helped create.
Yet this week, Saban was effectively arguing for a bill that his own conference opposes.
The obvious question is: What changed?
Three years ago, SEC commissioner Greg Sankey was among the loudest voices in college athletics calling for congressional action.
“The reality is, only Congress can fully address the challenges facing college athletics,” Sankey famously said.
For years, college leaders have marched to Washington begging lawmakers to provide legal protections, establish national standards and create order out of the chaos that they themselves helped create. They complained that courts were dismantling the NCAA’s authority. They complained about NIL. They complained about the transfer portal. They complained about a patchwork of state laws. The message was always the same: Somebody has to step in and save college sports.
Now Congress has finally tried.
After months of negotiations, Republican Sen. Ted Cruz and Democratic Sen. Maria Cantwell — two politicians who disagree on practically everything else — somehow managed to craft bipartisan legislation. The NCAA supports it. The ACC supports it. The Big 12 supports it. Nick Saban supports it. President Donald Trump has endorsed it. In an era when Republicans and Democrats struggle to agree on what day of the week it is, they found common ground on college athletics.
And suddenly the SEC and Big Ten want nothing to do with it.
Their stated objections involve nebulous legal concerns, but that’s just their cover.
The real reason is this: Buried within the legislation is a provision that would allow college football programs to negotiate media rights collectively and distribute revenue evenly if a majority of schools choose to do so. In other words, there is at least a pathway toward a more equitable financial structure within college athletics.
And that is where the SEC and Big Ten suddenly discovered their opposition.
Funny how quickly principles change when television money enters the conversation.
The SEC and Big Ten want Congress to help regulate athletes. They want limits on player movement. They want protection from lawsuits. They want federal intervention when it benefits them. But the moment there is even a hint that somebody might examine the massive television revenues flowing into their coffers, they slam on the brakes.
Apparently salary controls for athletes are responsible governance. Revenue-sharing among conferences is an unacceptable intrusion.
The hypocrisy would be amusing if it weren’t so damaging to the future of the sport.
This entire episode highlights the central problem in college athletics: There is nobody actually protecting college sports itself.
There is no commissioner overseeing the health of the enterprise. There is no unified leadership structure. There is no adult in the room.
Instead, every conference protects its own interests. Every university protects its own interests. Every administrator protects his own interests. Everybody claims to be acting in the best interest of college athletics while simultaneously fighting for a larger share of the pie.
The result is exactly what we see today: a sport that increasingly requires Congress to intervene because its leaders have demonstrated they are incapable of governing themselves.
Think about how absurd that reality is.
College athletics is supposedly an educational enterprise. Yet it has become a dysfunctional multi-billion-dollar business that federal lawmakers are being asked to rescue. That should be embarrassing to every university president and conference commissioner in America.
The same leadership failures appear everywhere you look.
Schools routinely demand rules and accountability until those rules apply to their own athletes. Texas Tech’s recent challenge to the NCAA’s suspension of quarterback Brendan Sorsby is a perfect example. Gambling on your own sport has long been considered one of the most serious violations imaginable. Yet rather than support enforcement, Texas Tech is fighting to keep its $5 million quarterback eligible.
Everybody believes in rules until the rules become inconvenient.
The spending hypocrisy is even worse.
College administrators constantly warn that athlete compensation threatens the financial sustainability of college sports. Meanwhile, those same institutions hand out coaching contracts worth tens of millions of dollars, employ armies of analysts and support staff, build lavish facilities and pay enormous buyouts to coaches who fail.
Universities lecture athletes about fiscal responsibility while writing eight-figure checks for coaches not to work.
If college sports truly need cost controls, why do those controls always begin and end with the players?
Why not cap coaching salaries?
Why not limit support staffs?
Why not restrict buyouts?
Why not audit the spending habits of the adults who have been driving this failed business model for decades?
Saban used a memorable analogy during his testimony, comparing college sports to a Ferrari racing toward the Grand Canyon at 150 mph. He was right. The sport is headed toward a cliff. The problem is that the people driving it remain far more concerned with protecting their revenue streams than changing direction.
That is why the image of Saban testifying while the SEC simultaneously opposed the bill was so striking. It revealed the sport’s biggest lie.
College leaders keep telling us they want to save college athletics.
What they really want is to save their share of college athletics.
And until that changes, Congress won’t be trying to save the sport from athletes, state courts or NIL collectives.
It will be trying to save the sport from the people running it.
Email me at mbianchi@orlandosentinel.com. Hit me up on social media @BianchiWrites and listen to my radio show “Game On” every weekday from 3 to 6 p.m. on FM 96.9, AM 740 and 969TheGame.com/listen.
