Congress Rushes to Save College Football From Terrifying Epidemic of Money and Popularity
ESPN, lawmakers and the NCAA unite around America's newest endangered species: an industry with packed stadiums, enormous television contracts and more lawyers than linebackers
College football, an obscure American pastime occasionally witnessed by crowds of 100,000 people and television audiences numbering in the millions, has apparently become sufficiently endangered that the United States Congress must intervene before somebody accidentally makes another billion dollars.
That, at least, is the wonderfully absurd comic premise suggested by Chris Simms' recent attack on the debate surrounding the Protect College Sports Act.
Simms blasted both politicians and ESPN, sarcastically referring to the proposal as the "Save the ESPN and the SEC Contract Act." His criticism followed several College GameDay discussions about the legislation, including an appearance by Sen. Ted Cruz, one of its sponsors. ESPN has also aired opposition to the legislation, including an interview with NAACP President Derrick Johnson on SportsCenter.
It is difficult to imagine a more perfect American political story.
The endangered animal has luxury suites.
Please Do Not Feed the College Football
Traditionally, government protection is extended to things that are disappearing.
The bald eagle.
Wetlands.
Historic buildings.
Rare salamanders nobody has personally seen but which apparently own 400 acres outside Sacramento.
College football presents a slightly different conservation challenge.
It has marching bands, television studios, corporate sponsorships, private jets, conference commissioners, apparel contracts, transfer portals and stadiums large enough to require their own municipal governments.
Yet here comes Washington carrying a tiny blanket.
"Easy, little fella. Congress is here."
Sen. Cruz has argued that college athletics face instability created by litigation, differing state laws, NIL rules, transfers and other structural changes. The Senate Commerce Committee advanced the legislation 19-9 in June, and Cruz described the existing system as having uncertain rules and distorted incentives.
That is the serious policy argument.
The comic problem is the packaging.
Calling something the Protect College Sports Act makes college football sound as though Ohio State has been cornered in Yellowstone by poachers.
Nobody has seen Michigan State for three weeks.
Auburn has lost its natural habitat.
Florida State is being rehabilitated and may eventually be released into the wild.
Meanwhile, the SEC remains safely protected inside its natural ecosystem of boosters, television money and adults screaming about 19-year-olds.
ESPN Discovers Journalism's Most Comfortable Assignment
ESPN also finds itself occupying a fascinating position.
The network covers college sports.
It pays enormous sums for college sports.
Its personalities discuss legislation affecting college sports.
Its parent company reportedly has been among media companies lobbying on legislation affecting college sports.
Then ESPN covers the controversy over ESPN covering legislation affecting the college sports ESPN covers.
This is not necessarily evidence that ESPN's arguments are wrong.
It is evidence that eventually the camera needs to pull back far enough for viewers to see another camera filming the first camera.
Then a third camera can cover the controversy.
ESPN can call the program Outside the Lines Outside the Lines.
Watching a major sports broadcaster discuss legislation that may affect its industry is roughly the equivalent of McDonald's hosting a symposium titled The Future of Hamburger Regulation.
McDonald's may have excellent points.
The presenters may possess impressive expertise.
But somewhere around slide 19, somebody should probably mention that the building smells strongly of french fries.
Congress Has Located an Emergency
Washington's participation produces another magnificent contradiction.
Congress routinely confronts complicated national questions involving debt, healthcare, immigration, infrastructure, defense and taxation.
These subjects can remain unresolved for decades.
College football becomes unstable?
CLEAR THE CALENDAR.
Somebody alert the Sergeant at Arms.
Wake the parliamentarian.
The transfer portal closes Tuesday.
America has finally discovered something capable of producing legislative urgency: the possibility that college football might become confusing.
This is especially impressive because college football was already confusing.
It has conferences whose names no longer correspond to geography.
It has the Big Ten with more than ten teams.
It has the Big 12 with a number of teams that requires checking.
It has schools crossing multiple time zones to preserve regional rivalries.
College football does not need chaos introduced into it.
Chaos already has season tickets.
Amateur Athletics Now Requires Professional Lobbyists
Perhaps the richest irony concerns the historical language of amateurism.
For generations, college sports maintained an elaborate philosophical distinction between playing football and making money from playing football.
Universities could make money.
Networks could make money.
Coaches could make money.
Conferences could make money.
Sponsors could make money.
Apparel companies could make money.
Ticket brokers could make enough money to purchase small islands.
Then athletes gained broader opportunities to earn money through NIL arrangements, and suddenly the philosophical department called an emergency meeting.
"What happens if the labor discovers economics?"
The Protect College Sports Act debate is considerably more complicated than that joke. Supporters argue federal rules could provide consistency across states and stabilize a system transformed by litigation, NIL, transfers and revenue sharing. Critics, including the NAACP in its formal opposition letter, argue some provisions would reduce athlete leverage or benefits. Those competing positions have been aired publicly, including on ESPN itself.
Still, the spectacle is irresistible.
College athletics became so professionalized that America now requires Washington professionals to determine how the professionals can preserve amateur sports.
Nothing says amateurism quite like federal legislation reviewed by teams of attorneys.
The NCAA Should Just Wear a Life Jacket
College athletics also suffers from a remarkable number of existential crises for an institution that continues existing.
Recruiting crisis.
Transfer crisis.
NIL crisis.
Conference realignment crisis.
Antitrust crisis.
Revenue-sharing crisis.
Television crisis.
Eligibility crisis.
At this point, the NCAA should conduct all press conferences from inside an inflatable emergency raft.
The interesting thing about college sports is that every crisis produces another television season.
The games arrive.
The stadiums fill.
The marching bands play.
Fans argue.
Broadcasters broadcast.
Coaches explain that they are taking things one game at a time, despite receiving salaries suggesting they should take at least three games simultaneously.
Simms seized upon precisely that tension. He mocked the urgency surrounding congressional intervention while pointing to the sport's popularity and financial strength.
It is the economic equivalent of calling the fire department because the swimming pool has become dangerously wet.
"What's the emergency?"
"Business is booming."
"My God."
"Should we evacuate?"
"Only the shareholders."
College GameDay Meets the Electoral College
The decision to put Cruz on College GameDay created perhaps the most promising programming concept of all.
The inevitable merger of the Electoral College and college football.
Imagine the touchscreen.
"Pennsylvania controls its own destiny, but Wisconsin has a stronger nonconference résumé."
"Georgia needs help from Michigan."
"Arizona remains on the bubble."
"Florida has six quality electoral losses."
Rece Davis turns toward the camera.
"And remember, the committee values strength of schedule, head-to-head results and the mysterious preferences of 538 people nobody completely understands."
At which point Lee Corso puts on a powdered wig and screams:
"NOT SO FAST, JAMES MADISON!"
Cruz's actual GameDay appearance lasted roughly ten minutes and generated significant controversy. ESPN later said it would also welcome an opponent of the legislation, and the network subsequently interviewed Johnson, who argued against the bill.
So America briefly received something rarely attempted in modern television:
A sports debate where the instant replay involved federal legislation.
Television Contracts Discover Constitutional Protection
Simms' sharpest joke may have been his suggestion that the legislation could serve ESPN and the SEC's interests.
Recent revisions to the measure reportedly included protections for existing television agreements if conferences or schools eventually pool media rights. Awful Announcing, citing Yahoo Sports reporting, noted that existing agreements could therefore remain significant for years.
Again, that does not settle whether the legislation is wise or unwise.
It does create extraordinary satire.
Imagine explaining the situation to James Madison.
"We have preserved separation of powers."
"Excellent."
"Federalism remains."
"Wonderful."
"And we have taken steps concerning existing college football broadcast contracts."
Madison stares silently.
"Is the republic threatened?"
"Well, the ACC deal runs through 2036."
Madison gets back into the carriage.
Washington Finally Finds an Industry Ready for Washington
And perhaps that is the grandest observation.
You know an American industry has reached maturity when everybody involved has representation in Washington.
College football began with students playing a game.
Then came tickets.
Then stadiums.
Then radio.
Then television.
Then sponsorships.
Then enormous television contracts.
Then conference networks.
Then NIL collectives.
Then antitrust litigation.
Then lobbyists.
Then Congress.
Eventually the actual football game becomes a quaint ceremonial tradition performed between advertisements, legal filings and congressional hearings.
Fans should cherish kickoff.
It may soon be the only three hours of Saturday when nobody is discussing federal policy.
College football spent decades insisting that it was somehow different from an ordinary commercial enterprise. Then it accumulated enormous media contracts, professional management structures, lucrative sponsorships and nationwide economic significance.
Washington finally looked over and said:
"Congratulations."
"You're a business now."
College football replied:
"No, we're amateur athletics."
Congress looked at the television contracts.
Looked at the lobbyists.
Looked at the lawyers.
Looked at the broadcasters.
Looked at the packed stadium.
Then looked back at college football.
"Sure you are."
And somewhere, beneath the roar of 100,000 spectators, the endangered species continued generating revenue.
Satirical Disclaimer
This article uses exaggeration, analogy and absurdity to lampoon the collision between college athletics, television economics and federal policymaking. The underlying factual dispute is real, and supporters and opponents of the Protect College Sports Act offer materially different arguments about athlete compensation, governance, antitrust rules, television agreements and the future structure of college sports. No senator, broadcaster, university, conference or endangered SEC mascot actually requested relocation to a federal wildlife preserve. https://bohiney.com/congress-rushes-to-save-college-football/
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