From the Classroom

The dream changed: Inside the first generation of paid college athletes

As the NCAA approves direct salaries, players reflect on a world where school is drifting into the background.

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Caleb Williams, the former quarterback for the University of Southern California and now playing for the Chicago Bears, reportedly received up to $10 million during his collegiate football career. (AP/Ryan Sun)

James Heller, a pitcher at the University of Dayton, thought he was signing up for a student-athlete experience he had always dreamed of, but the money-focused group of players he met when he arrived was different from the brotherhood he was expecting.

Growing up with stories from his older brother from his days competing at the collegiate level set a certain image for what the next step would look like, but with the six-figure contracts and endorsement deals from major companies like Nike or Adidas, the college life of an athlete is drastically different from what it was even 10 years ago.

Now that it’s legal for schools to start paying their athletes directly for the first time, Heller and others are seeing a massive change in collegiate sports, and the line between college roster and pro contract is becoming increasingly blurry.

While classes are still mandatory for all athletes, “95 percent of our day is spent on the field,” according to Heller, and much of this change is the aftermath of the recent adoption of Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) rules, and more specifically, the Supreme Court ruling in June, which allowed universities to directly compensate their athletes.

That can be hundreds of thousands of dollars per year, in addition to the hefty scholarships many athletes already receive.

When he committed to playing at the University of Dayton, Heller expected the stereotypical life of a “student-athlete,” where they felt like amateurs, academics came first and they lived the frugal life of the normal student. While Heller is not receiving a six-figure salary, like some of the largest names in his sport, he still feels that his pay, which he keeps disclosed, is impacting the student-athlete experience.

“You feel it becomes more and more of a business,” Heller said, “and less of a college sport.”

With money becoming an increasingly important factor, it inherently increases the pressure that athletes as young as 18 face, pulling them away from the college experience that not only their peers receive, but that former student-athletes were lucky enough to enjoy.

In just five years, the NCAA has shifted from imposing significant sanctions on any athlete who received compensation for their play to a point where universities themselves are “employing” them. As the NCAA quickly adjusts to this new reality, will athletes feel disconnected from what makes college sports so special?

First, look back at how it reached this point. In 2021, the Supreme Court unanimously ruled that the NCAA was enjoined from blocking athletes’ access to educational benefits for their play, opening a door toward NIL that had been shut for more than 100 years.

The Supreme Court’s ruling was an attempt to “begin stabilizing college sports,” according to NCAA president Charlie Baker in a letter written by him.

This led the NCAA to allow colleges and states to determine the legality of compensation for athletes’ NIL after this ruling. Thirty-two states have passed NIL bills since, many basing theirs on California’s “Fair Pay to Play Act,” which allowed athletes to receive endorsements and scholarships while retaining their eligibility.

Caleb Williams, the former star quarterback for the University of Southern California now playing for the championship contender Chicago Bears, reportedly received up to $10 million over his two years in Los Angeles, split among deals and commercials with Dr Pepper, Beats by Dre, Nissan, United Airlines, PlayStation and more.

Separately, much of the reason the federal government and the Supreme Court were required to get involved was that “this issue triggered several legal issues around antitrust concerns, [and] intellectual property,” according to the Dean of UCLA School of Law, Michael Waterstone.

This opened the door for college booster clubs, which had previously raised money for the team, to funnel money through NIL “collectives” directly to players. This started the transformation from student-athletes to semi-professionals.

Then, earlier this year, a rule change occurred that allowed the universities to directly pay their athletes. As the laws change the rules around money and payments, the money is changing the culture.

NIL changes exaggerated an issue of the transfer portal and took college sports to a place where “you never know what next year looks like,” said Heller, “and it’s hard for coaches to build teams when players are always leaving.”

The transfer portal is the college sport equivalent of free agency. Players can enter their names into the portal and then talk to other teams until they find where they would like to transfer.

In the past, the transfer portal did not exist; if a player wanted to leave, he had to request it from their coach and would most likely be forced to sit out for an entire year. Today, however, the transfer portal is more of a bidding war where athletes freely enter with the sole focus of finding which school would pay them the most.

Since its creation in 2018, the college football transfer portal has expanded from just 1,500 athletes to nearly 4,000 last offseason, with the addition of direct payment to players; this number is expected to only increase, analysts predict.

Especially at a smaller school like the University of Dayton, where money is not as abundant, players are constantly leaving because big-time schools “can pay these players so much money, even high six-figures for some guys,” said Heller.

The culture of staying, training and winning for a school seems to be lost, as money is further intertwined in the process. Heller says it feels “more like a semi-professional sport.”

This heightens the emotional commitment of being a collegiate athlete. The pressure of team turnover, competing for extra money and the tension of handling business deals have made teams less of the community that was key pre-NIL years.

Heller mentioned the constant thought of NIL behind nearly all of his daily activities as a student-athlete, and how he feels it holds the team back from the type of brotherhood that rosters even just 10 years ago might have felt.

“Most of the time you don’t get to play with the same guys,” said Heller. “We just don’t play together for one, three, four years in a row anymore.”

Former USC football player Ryan Dillard, who now works as a senior coordinator for community relations initiatives at the San Francisco 49ers, reemphasised this narrative.

“I think you start to get more individuals who are more in it for the money,” said Dillard. “It becomes less about being a team sport and competing for national championships.”

Dillard looks back at his time as a defensive back for USC and sees the difference that money has made in the college experience for athletes. When he played football at USC from 2012-2015, he saw it as “a brotherhood.”

While money was still an aspect of the athlete’s life then, it was strictly from a scholarship perspective. While Dillard did receive some scholarship money, he highlighted the massive difference between that experience and the financial situation of many players today.

However, the issue for Dillard is not NIL or the players being compensated through sponsorships for their talent, but rather the culture change where the primary focus was on money over commitment to the university, teammates or winning, unlike his time at USC.

“We were all just in it for the purpose of winning, being able to win each week, and being able to win each game,” said Dillard. “And ultimately compete for a bowl game or national championship.”

Dillard, who graduated with a communication degree from USC, also worries about the focus shift away from the student as the primary descriptor in student-athlete.

“It also takes the focus away from education, which I think should be the main point,” said Dillard. “Your main priority should be getting your education before anything.”

While at Dayton, Heller views his life as baseball as primary, with “school in the background.” Class is still mandatory for all athletes, but with 5 a.m. lifts, practice after classes every day and the stress of business deals, class participation seems to be the extent of academia.

Rules have been ever-changing, and according to Waterstone, the current standard might not be as permanent as some believe.

“This seems like an intermediate and sad waystation on the path of wherever we’re going,” said Waterstone.

The rule changes have eroded the four-year stay at a single university that was expected of college athletes in the past, decreasing school identity and pride, and while there are no doubt positives of giving the players power and security, it seems the negatives may outweigh the positives for many current athletes.

Athletes like former five-star recruit J.T. Daniels, who transferred three times in his six years of college football, playing at four different schools, including USC, Georgia, West Virginia and Rice, are becoming increasingly common.

In the past, college athletes had a clear description of what they were: student-athletes. However, today, athletes like Heller and many others are seeking to find meaning in a system still defining what they are: students, athletes, employees or something in between.