The Unnecessary Introduction
One of modern sports writings most popular clichés (and if ESPN’s new website is any indication, the path to fame and fortune) is to compare everything to a movie. So LeBron choking in the Finals is just like the Batman suit having nipples. And Marshawn Lynch’s epic run through the Saints defense reminds you of something from “27 Dresses.” Whatever the analogy, movie scene references are the surest way to convince your audience you’re “hip” and “with it” and makes you relevant. We’d love to be able to do that. We’d love to be relevant. But we’re not. And after almost 9 months of blistering and hilarious commentary, we’ve come to the conclusion that our inability to frame everything to some pop culture touchstone is the only thing (not our poor grammar, horrid spelling, unoriginal ideas, mundane musings or introductions that have nothing to do with what you are about to read) keeping us from the big time. Unfortunately, since the great majority of our movie “watching” comes from Wikipedia or Movies.com (Dave White!!), it seems unlikely that's going to change anytime soon. So we’re forced to be more creative. And what’s more creative than a game of Mad Libs?
Fill in the blanks:
Movie involving Wayward/Misunderstood Character
Star of Movie
Wayward/Misunderstood Character
Bad thing Done by Wayward/Misunderstood Character
Now on to business …
The Yuck
Remember that movie, [Movie]? You know the one where [Star] plays a guy/girl who’s friend, [Wayward/Misunderstood Character], screws everything up but [Star] feels compelled to defend [Wayward/Misunderstood Character] saying he/she is a really nice guy/girl if people would just give him/her a chance? But then, in the climactic scene [Wayward/Misunderstood Character] does [bad thing] and, at that moment, [Star] realizes he/she can’t defend [Wayward/Misunderstood Character] anymore and their relationship is forever altered?
[Ed Note: If you picked “You, Me and Dupree” as the movie to two things: (1) give yourself a point; and (2) die.]
Well, that’s exactly how we felt this week after reading USA Today’s brutal article about how Rutgers, our alma mater and the place that taken us for more money than any other, plundered $27 million in student fees (in addition to the $37 million in revenue) to cover holes in the athletic department budget in 2010, bringing the total to $115 million since 2006. Just like the character in that movie we may have potentially made up, we're left wondering who we can defend Rutgers anymore, particularly the football program.
Maybe the state’s collective inferiority complex makes us more comfortable with self-deprecation than failing to meet expectations, but since Rutgers Football has gone from abysmal to average, it's been a source of controversy for the University. Still, we’ve always supported the program, often in the face of legitimate criticism.
We’d looked the other way when the University spent $100 million to expand a stadium it could barely fill and later withheld raises from employees while begging poor due to cuts in state funding.
We brushed off reports that of unbudgeted spending on athletics, including perks for the coach, Greg Schiano.
We even resisted the urge to criticize Schiano, who’s legacy is measured not by league titles or BCS births but by a regular season win over Louisville and a few bowl games, the highest paid coach in the Big East.
We defended it all because we love football and it's fun to have your school matter, no matter how marginally. But mostly we defended it because we believed what we're calling “The Myth of the College Football Cash Cow”, the idea that investing money in growing a football program would not only generate goodwill and name recognition but in revenues that would someday bankroll other sports. Those other sports are called “non-revenue generating” for a reason, after all. Men’s wrestling and women’s volleyball cost money to maintain. And that’s accepted because people view those sports differently and their expenditures in those areas are rarely extravagant or publicized. But football is viewed differently. Forget the talk of "student athletes" and all that crap, football is supposed to make money. Everyone is supposed to be getting rich except the players. At least that's what we've always been told. Now, a decade into an admittedly epic rebuilding process the football team barely breaking even and it's starting to feel like the University is paying $64 million for 4 wins. When that happens, it's time to start wondering whether it's ever going to happen.
The Myth of the College Football Cash Cow
We never did any research on the subject (who really has time for that?) but the idea that someday football would make the school rich was an easy way to rationalize our pride in Scarlet Knight Football. Unfortunately, even a surface-level investigation (and who really has time for that) reveals that it’s essentially bullshit. Of all the public schools in Division I, only 22 turned a profit on a department wide basis. Check out the list:
Oregon
Alabama
Penn State
Michigan
Oklahoma State
Iowa
Texas
Oklahoma
Georgia
LSU
Kansas State
Florida
Texas A&M
Arkansas
Purdue
Michigan State
Nebraska
West Virginia
Indiana
Virginia Tech
Ohio State
Washington
So maybe it happens some places but it's certainly a myth that its going to happen everywhere. If you take a look at the list carefully, you'll find two two common denominators. First, with the exception of West Virginia, all the schools reside in one of the real power conferences. In fact, 20 of them some from either the Big Ten, Big 12, Pac Ten or SEC. The second commonality is that, with the exception of Indiana, they’re all reasonably considered to be big-time football school. So, it's pretty clear that, as far as the more that 200 Division I public schools go, only the football and conference elite are making money.
(Businessofcollegesports.com further hammers the point home by breaking down what happens when football doesn’t make enough money.)
So if only about 10% of schools make money, it Rutgers ever going to get to that point? To us it seems unlikely. First, they play in a market saturated with professional sport competition. Secondly, while Rutgers may be at the top of the “Stolen Money Standings” the presence of 3 of its conference mates in the Top 6 (UCONN, South Florida and Cincinnati) seems to indicate that this is a Big East problem. Maybe when the conference renegotiates it's TV deal things change (What network wouldn’t pay top dollar for the collective history and tradition of a mid-November South Florida-UCONN tilt? Or such traditional rivalries as Cincinnati-TCU!!) Or maybe the University's $1 billion fund raising campaign ($100 million to athletics) and stadium naming rights deals reap huge rewards. (We think we speak for everyone when we say we’re extremely excited to attend games at “Business-to-Business Consulting Company That Nobody Knows and, Even if They Did, Could Even Buy Their Products Anyway” Stadium Field.) But still, $30 million is a ton of ground to make up.To put that in perspective, Florida football makes $44 million. It's not impossible but highly unlikely.
The Conclusion
Thought it's audacious and sometimes clumsy attempts to rebrand itself as "Big-Time Football", including the hiring of an ex-player as Athletic Director, Rutgers has made clear its commitment to football. But unless the school's emergence as an elite program is imminent (they’ve yet to show that’s even remotely attainable) it might be time to reassess. Rutgers needs to focus on finding a sustainable path to success (Indiana’s inclusion on the list of profitable teams seems to show that it’s possible to run an average program at a profit) without quick fixes and out-of-control spending. Make no mistake about it, we'd love to see them challenging for the BCS right now. But not at the expense of long-term success. While the program may never subsidize all of Rutgers athletics, it can make money. However, if the University continues to run a huge deficit, football will come under fire and cutbacks will be severe. Rutgers has come a long way since the dark days of Terry Shea and reengaged its fan base, but it takes decades to build a true program. Considering where we've come from, we can be patient and settle for hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment