09-28-2020, 03:59 PM
An opinion I share, below:
By Alex Shultz, SFGATE
Last Thursday, the Pac-12 announced that it’s resuming sports in 2020 after all. The same evening, Pac-12 bigwigs held a virtual press conference with reporters. Commissioner Larry Scott and Chairman Michael Schill recounted how much miraculously changed since Aug. 10, when they originally called off fall and winter athletics. Schill quickly noted that the return to play has “nothing to do with money,” a silly assertion and a sore subject probably worth avoiding entirely after a recent report that Pac-12 upper management (including Scott) took significant bonuses this summer.
It’s true enough that testing college athletes every single day will likely prevent superspreader events. But everything else Pac-12 executives are pushing is absurd revisionist history. Even the relatively indisputable benefits of frequent rapid testing are besides the point, and overshadow the troubling, untenable dynamic that dominates college athletics, where teenagers have little agency in decisions about their health and well-being — regardless of whether they actually want to play or not.
In August, the Pac-12 cited three reasons for the suspension of fall and winter athletics, all of which it claims have now been sufficiently addressed. The three reasons are printed verbatim below.
The Pac-12 health and safety initiative neatly summarizes this disturbing information as: “Community prevalence and percent of test positivity has improved in most places across the Pac-12 footprint and in the United States (with a few exceptions).” That parenthetical is doing a lot of work. How do college athletes feel about it?
On to point number two: Concerns about health outcomes related to the virus.
When the Pac-12 cancelled sports in August, it sounded the alarm about myocarditis, a serious heart ailment and COVID-19 side effect that’s been discovered among a number of high-level athletes. At the time, I wrote about why I was skeptical of the Pac-12’s newfound apprehension, given that myocarditis has been a point of discussion for many months. It seemed plausible that the conference was more so spooked by the long-term implications of the #WeAreUnited movement and their demands of basic worker rights, which were published online a week before the Pac-12 opted to cancel athletics. Their demands have since been usurped by the #WeWantToPlay hashtag and the start of the college football season, which is great news for Pac-12 executives.
If Pac-12 executives were legitimately worried about the risks associated with myocarditis, they wouldn’t have restarted the season. Nothing has changed in our collective understanding of COVID-19 side effects. Last week, a day before the Pac-12’s announcement of a return to sports, The New York Times published a story about Jamain Stephens, a college football player at California University in Pennsylvania who died of COVID-19. Stephens’ father says his autopsy showed an enlarged heart. “It’s about money,” his father told the Times about the continuation of sports in a pandemic. “We’re going to make it happen regardless of how it happens. So what if we lose a few lives?”
In early September, Quidel, a medical device company, agreed to supply its Sofia 2 rapid testing machines to Pac-12 athletic programs. (Plebeians who merely attend college classes are obviously not eligible.) The rapid tests administer results within 15 minutes.
If players get tested every single day, teams should be able to prevent outbreaks and make up for any differences in sensitivity between antigen rapid-tests and more established PCR methods. Quidel says its device matches the more accurate, longer-turnaround COVID-19 tests 96% of the time, but with a notable caveat, according to the San Diego Tribune: “That testing has been done in people already suspected to have the virus, not in young, healthy adults.” Quidel is desperate to gain more data points from young adults, which is a worthy endeavor — just not one these college athletes explicitly agreed to before Larry Scott and Co. signed on the bottom line.
No matter, Dr. Kim Harmon, Pac-12’s research development director, tells the Tribune: “That’s the beauty of the Pac-12-Quidel partnership,” she says. “We’re going to study this in asymptomatic people and see whether or not it is a path forward. Either it is or it isn’t, and we’re going to figure it out.” So, more guinea pigs.
It’s already cringe-worthy enough when pro sports leagues dump buckets of money for constant COVID testing and COVID-free bubbles that the rest of the public would love to access. At the very least, it’s easier to enjoy watching pro sports leagues during the pandemic because the athletes involved are being paid a salary and have a union representing them, meaning they have the recourse to opt in or out of any playing arrangement.
The Pac-12, meanwhile, seems intent on projecting its sanctimonious routine, referencing its commitment to science and safety as a holier-than-thou degree of separation from other college athletic institutions. It’s the lowest bar imaginable, and far from commendable. The Pac-12 is no different than the rest of the big-time conferences. Schill and Scott are still subjecting college athletes to a fundamentally unfair relationship, just with a more palatable message — and they shouldn’t be able to get away with that message so easily.
Alex Shultz is SFGATE's sports editor. Email: alex.shultz@sfgate.com | Twitter: @AlexShultz
By Alex Shultz, SFGATE
Last Thursday, the Pac-12 announced that it’s resuming sports in 2020 after all. The same evening, Pac-12 bigwigs held a virtual press conference with reporters. Commissioner Larry Scott and Chairman Michael Schill recounted how much miraculously changed since Aug. 10, when they originally called off fall and winter athletics. Schill quickly noted that the return to play has “nothing to do with money,” a silly assertion and a sore subject probably worth avoiding entirely after a recent report that Pac-12 upper management (including Scott) took significant bonuses this summer.
It’s true enough that testing college athletes every single day will likely prevent superspreader events. But everything else Pac-12 executives are pushing is absurd revisionist history. Even the relatively indisputable benefits of frequent rapid testing are besides the point, and overshadow the troubling, untenable dynamic that dominates college athletics, where teenagers have little agency in decisions about their health and well-being — regardless of whether they actually want to play or not.
In August, the Pac-12 cited three reasons for the suspension of fall and winter athletics, all of which it claims have now been sufficiently addressed. The three reasons are printed verbatim below.
- High community prevalence and concerns about travel.
- Concern about health outcomes related to the virus including new information about potential serious cardiac side effects in athletes.
- Concern that testing needed to be done more frequently and closer to game time, including access to rapid turn-around point of care testing.
The Pac-12 health and safety initiative neatly summarizes this disturbing information as: “Community prevalence and percent of test positivity has improved in most places across the Pac-12 footprint and in the United States (with a few exceptions).” That parenthetical is doing a lot of work. How do college athletes feel about it?
On to point number two: Concerns about health outcomes related to the virus.
When the Pac-12 cancelled sports in August, it sounded the alarm about myocarditis, a serious heart ailment and COVID-19 side effect that’s been discovered among a number of high-level athletes. At the time, I wrote about why I was skeptical of the Pac-12’s newfound apprehension, given that myocarditis has been a point of discussion for many months. It seemed plausible that the conference was more so spooked by the long-term implications of the #WeAreUnited movement and their demands of basic worker rights, which were published online a week before the Pac-12 opted to cancel athletics. Their demands have since been usurped by the #WeWantToPlay hashtag and the start of the college football season, which is great news for Pac-12 executives.
If Pac-12 executives were legitimately worried about the risks associated with myocarditis, they wouldn’t have restarted the season. Nothing has changed in our collective understanding of COVID-19 side effects. Last week, a day before the Pac-12’s announcement of a return to sports, The New York Times published a story about Jamain Stephens, a college football player at California University in Pennsylvania who died of COVID-19. Stephens’ father says his autopsy showed an enlarged heart. “It’s about money,” his father told the Times about the continuation of sports in a pandemic. “We’re going to make it happen regardless of how it happens. So what if we lose a few lives?”
In early September, Quidel, a medical device company, agreed to supply its Sofia 2 rapid testing machines to Pac-12 athletic programs. (Plebeians who merely attend college classes are obviously not eligible.) The rapid tests administer results within 15 minutes.
If players get tested every single day, teams should be able to prevent outbreaks and make up for any differences in sensitivity between antigen rapid-tests and more established PCR methods. Quidel says its device matches the more accurate, longer-turnaround COVID-19 tests 96% of the time, but with a notable caveat, according to the San Diego Tribune: “That testing has been done in people already suspected to have the virus, not in young, healthy adults.” Quidel is desperate to gain more data points from young adults, which is a worthy endeavor — just not one these college athletes explicitly agreed to before Larry Scott and Co. signed on the bottom line.
No matter, Dr. Kim Harmon, Pac-12’s research development director, tells the Tribune: “That’s the beauty of the Pac-12-Quidel partnership,” she says. “We’re going to study this in asymptomatic people and see whether or not it is a path forward. Either it is or it isn’t, and we’re going to figure it out.” So, more guinea pigs.
It’s already cringe-worthy enough when pro sports leagues dump buckets of money for constant COVID testing and COVID-free bubbles that the rest of the public would love to access. At the very least, it’s easier to enjoy watching pro sports leagues during the pandemic because the athletes involved are being paid a salary and have a union representing them, meaning they have the recourse to opt in or out of any playing arrangement.
The Pac-12, meanwhile, seems intent on projecting its sanctimonious routine, referencing its commitment to science and safety as a holier-than-thou degree of separation from other college athletic institutions. It’s the lowest bar imaginable, and far from commendable. The Pac-12 is no different than the rest of the big-time conferences. Schill and Scott are still subjecting college athletes to a fundamentally unfair relationship, just with a more palatable message — and they shouldn’t be able to get away with that message so easily.
Alex Shultz is SFGATE's sports editor. Email: alex.shultz@sfgate.com | Twitter: @AlexShultz
Life is too short to waste on crap football.
