08-04-2023, 09:01 PM
To paraphrase Jeff Goldblum, playing Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park, “Your Athletic Directors were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.”
You might think that I would feel like my decision to “check out” of college sports a few months ago is now vindicated, but I really feel a melancholy about the demise of the Pac-12 and the fact that when the music stopped, it appears that Stanford is left without a seat. I also feel bad for my friends on this board and others who have remained fans. I saw Matt’s post a few weeks ago about the importance of football, and while I don’t really agree, who am I to deny him the joy that comes with being a part of “Big Time” football, however one defines it in the context of Stanford. I also feel for longtime fans like Bob, who I don’t think will ever come right out and say it, but who likely are doing the math on whether their beloved sports will survive in any way in this new reality. Mostly, though, I feel for the athletes, who were lured to Stanford with an implicit promise that first rate academics and Div. I Athletics can work synergistically, even as the environment has increasingly demonstrated that they are a cross-current, and the NCAA has stopped pretending that they ought to be.
It is easy to see how the story unfolded, almost as a Greek tragedy, where everyone’s individual actions were completely rational and understandable, and yet, when all is said and done, we are now in a place where I must ask, “What the hell are we doing here?” You start in a situation where academic institutions exist to educate their students to become future leaders. And certainly athletics plays a role in that; the data on the success of NCAA athletes after graduation is, on the whole quite good, and I have long bought into the idea that the discipline, leadership, teamwork, and other aspects that required for excelling in sports are applicable to excelling in life. And, sure, if television stations want to broadcast games and throw millions of dollars at a school for the right to show viewers ads, it’s not hard to blame schools for saying “why not”, even as filling out television windows has meant that games are at less convenient times for fans who want to see them, or that athletes are leaving the Palouse after midnight, or that adding a twelfth game, and then a conference championship, and then up to four playoff games, increases the time demands on athletes and the risk of injury, while not adding anything to their chances of academic success or their compensation. And so, who can blame the athletes for demanding a piece of the pie, or at least to get paid for their name, image, and likeness. And then, it is easy to see how wealthy alums, whose ego is tied to the success of the athletics use this to funnel money to the athletes through collectives. And as the costs for schools go up, again, it is easy to see how they would jockey for position at conferences whose payout is better, lest they wind up, as it appears we are, left holding the bag. And, of course, the conferences are doing the same thing; nobody wants to end up as the Pac-12 has, and so there is only one thing to do when you smell blood. Never mind, again, the effect of increased demand of the travel on student athletes, or the loss of rivalries on fans. And, at the end of the day, while schools and conferences might pay lip service to the importance of academics to the NCAA, I can’t help but notice that at the end of the day, this did nothing for Stanford’s standing, because let’s face it, for a major conference to add Stanford, they would take a hit to their bottom line, because we will not bring eyeballs to televisions. Stanford is the “nice guy” who is left without a date to the prom, even as all the girls rue that their boyfriends are a-holes. I believe the economic term is “revealed preference”. Nobody gives a crap about academics.
At every step, we could, but at no step did anyone stop and think “Should we really be doing this? Is this really compatible with our mission as institutions of higher learning? Is this what is best for our student athletes?” And yet at every step, these same institutions of higher learning (and, I have no illusions, that includes Stanford) have operated in a revenue-maximizing mode. Student-athlete wellbeing? Academics? Fans? Who cares, when we can extract another few million dollars from our TV deal.
I don’t know what’s going to happen from here. While we would never in a million years sign up for the intercollegiate athletics system that exists now, inertia is tough to overcome, and there are a lot of vested interests who would rather we try to cling to what we have and play the game. I respect those of you who do, and there is a part of me that is reluctant to advocate for getting rid of something that clearly brings you joy. But I think this is a good time to stop, reassess, and try to figure out whether the version of collegiate athletics that exists right now is still compatible with Stanford’s values. Some people here have made a case that Div. I athletics are part of Stanford’s “secret sauce” as the only top-5 ranked school which also operates the most historically successful and diversified athletics program in the country. That is a tough thing to give up. But in the large scheme of things, intercollegiate athletics is listed under “Auxiliary activities” in Stanford’s financial report. It is a mere rounding error in comparison to the total consolidated operating revenues of $15.1 billion (with a “b”) dollars. It likely plays an outsized role in the consciousness of fans, but there are ever fewer ones, and while some students certainly consider it part of the special sauce, many others (I would venture that it is most undergrads, and the vast majority of non-alum graduate students) don’t actually care about Stanford’s athletic prowess. It would be one thing if I believed that intercollegiate athletics was still about the “collegiate” part, but since I no longer believe it is, it really is hard for me to continue to support Stanford athletics in its current form. And while I feel a bit sorry for the student-athletes, as an ever increasing number have used the portal to pursue greener pastures (including in sports outside of football, including women’s basketball, men’s swimming, and just the other day women’s swimming), do many of them even view Stanford academics as the other half of the secret sauce. So, while I do realize that I have let a lot of cynism and disillusionment creep into my assessment, I do hope that Stanford takes advantage of this opportunity to hop off treadmill. It’s been a great ride, but all good things must end at some point.
You might think that I would feel like my decision to “check out” of college sports a few months ago is now vindicated, but I really feel a melancholy about the demise of the Pac-12 and the fact that when the music stopped, it appears that Stanford is left without a seat. I also feel bad for my friends on this board and others who have remained fans. I saw Matt’s post a few weeks ago about the importance of football, and while I don’t really agree, who am I to deny him the joy that comes with being a part of “Big Time” football, however one defines it in the context of Stanford. I also feel for longtime fans like Bob, who I don’t think will ever come right out and say it, but who likely are doing the math on whether their beloved sports will survive in any way in this new reality. Mostly, though, I feel for the athletes, who were lured to Stanford with an implicit promise that first rate academics and Div. I Athletics can work synergistically, even as the environment has increasingly demonstrated that they are a cross-current, and the NCAA has stopped pretending that they ought to be.
It is easy to see how the story unfolded, almost as a Greek tragedy, where everyone’s individual actions were completely rational and understandable, and yet, when all is said and done, we are now in a place where I must ask, “What the hell are we doing here?” You start in a situation where academic institutions exist to educate their students to become future leaders. And certainly athletics plays a role in that; the data on the success of NCAA athletes after graduation is, on the whole quite good, and I have long bought into the idea that the discipline, leadership, teamwork, and other aspects that required for excelling in sports are applicable to excelling in life. And, sure, if television stations want to broadcast games and throw millions of dollars at a school for the right to show viewers ads, it’s not hard to blame schools for saying “why not”, even as filling out television windows has meant that games are at less convenient times for fans who want to see them, or that athletes are leaving the Palouse after midnight, or that adding a twelfth game, and then a conference championship, and then up to four playoff games, increases the time demands on athletes and the risk of injury, while not adding anything to their chances of academic success or their compensation. And so, who can blame the athletes for demanding a piece of the pie, or at least to get paid for their name, image, and likeness. And then, it is easy to see how wealthy alums, whose ego is tied to the success of the athletics use this to funnel money to the athletes through collectives. And as the costs for schools go up, again, it is easy to see how they would jockey for position at conferences whose payout is better, lest they wind up, as it appears we are, left holding the bag. And, of course, the conferences are doing the same thing; nobody wants to end up as the Pac-12 has, and so there is only one thing to do when you smell blood. Never mind, again, the effect of increased demand of the travel on student athletes, or the loss of rivalries on fans. And, at the end of the day, while schools and conferences might pay lip service to the importance of academics to the NCAA, I can’t help but notice that at the end of the day, this did nothing for Stanford’s standing, because let’s face it, for a major conference to add Stanford, they would take a hit to their bottom line, because we will not bring eyeballs to televisions. Stanford is the “nice guy” who is left without a date to the prom, even as all the girls rue that their boyfriends are a-holes. I believe the economic term is “revealed preference”. Nobody gives a crap about academics.
At every step, we could, but at no step did anyone stop and think “Should we really be doing this? Is this really compatible with our mission as institutions of higher learning? Is this what is best for our student athletes?” And yet at every step, these same institutions of higher learning (and, I have no illusions, that includes Stanford) have operated in a revenue-maximizing mode. Student-athlete wellbeing? Academics? Fans? Who cares, when we can extract another few million dollars from our TV deal.
I don’t know what’s going to happen from here. While we would never in a million years sign up for the intercollegiate athletics system that exists now, inertia is tough to overcome, and there are a lot of vested interests who would rather we try to cling to what we have and play the game. I respect those of you who do, and there is a part of me that is reluctant to advocate for getting rid of something that clearly brings you joy. But I think this is a good time to stop, reassess, and try to figure out whether the version of collegiate athletics that exists right now is still compatible with Stanford’s values. Some people here have made a case that Div. I athletics are part of Stanford’s “secret sauce” as the only top-5 ranked school which also operates the most historically successful and diversified athletics program in the country. That is a tough thing to give up. But in the large scheme of things, intercollegiate athletics is listed under “Auxiliary activities” in Stanford’s financial report. It is a mere rounding error in comparison to the total consolidated operating revenues of $15.1 billion (with a “b”) dollars. It likely plays an outsized role in the consciousness of fans, but there are ever fewer ones, and while some students certainly consider it part of the special sauce, many others (I would venture that it is most undergrads, and the vast majority of non-alum graduate students) don’t actually care about Stanford’s athletic prowess. It would be one thing if I believed that intercollegiate athletics was still about the “collegiate” part, but since I no longer believe it is, it really is hard for me to continue to support Stanford athletics in its current form. And while I feel a bit sorry for the student-athletes, as an ever increasing number have used the portal to pursue greener pastures (including in sports outside of football, including women’s basketball, men’s swimming, and just the other day women’s swimming), do many of them even view Stanford academics as the other half of the secret sauce. So, while I do realize that I have let a lot of cynism and disillusionment creep into my assessment, I do hope that Stanford takes advantage of this opportunity to hop off treadmill. It’s been a great ride, but all good things must end at some point.
