Motion to Disrupt Vol. 5

Millions for a Few, Cuts for the Many: The New Reality of College Athletics

OPENING STATEMENTS

Just over a week since the House v. NCAA decision, and I can’t help but see this jarring juxtaposition everywhere. In headlines. In feeds. In almost every discussion I have. On one hand, there's the flashy $20.5 million allocated to student-athletes. On the other hand, there is the continued decline of programs at schools across the country. There’s Texas Tech’s reported $55 million commitment to athlete pay - eclipsing that of every Major League Soccer roster - as well as athletic department firings at Southern Cal.

What’s clear is that opportunity - supposedly the essence of higher education - is contracting.

Financial pressure is accelerating entire-program cuts. Cal Poly calculated it could not absorb a $450,000 annual hit and axed swimming and diving. UTEP and Louisiana-Monroe followed suit with women’s tennis. Saint Francis, fresh off an NCAA men’s basketball appearance, opted to drop to Division III rather than shoulder “unsustainable” Division I costs. Bloomberg Law detailed some of this in a story earlier this week, citing 41 Olympic sports as having been cut at NCAA Division I programs, affecting at least 1,000 student-athletes.

New roster limits were designed to replace scholarship caps, but they embed austerity for non-revenue sports. Cross-country teams that once carried thirty athletes must now squeeze into seventeen spots; football walk-ons, the lifeblood of many programs, are being told to look elsewhere. The NCAA admits hundreds were cut before the settlement ink dried, and coach estimates run into the thousands. Efforts to “grandfather” displaced athletes merely defer the pain; by 2027, rosters must still shrink to fit the cap.

The structural divide is clear: heavy-revenue institutions can fund both the $20.5 million cap and robust NIL networks, while mid-majors cannot. Title IX compliance compounds the squeeze, because any dollar routed to male football players must be offset elsewhere for gender equity. Cutting non-revenue men’s sports becomes the path of least legal resistance. This is a topic that we’ll dig into deeper in a future Motion to Disrupt.

Proponents argue that more than 100,000 new scholarships are technically possible now that caps are gone. But scholarships without roster spots are meaningless. In practice, schools with limited budgets will not expand scholarship offerings; they will downsize teams to contain costs.

My inbox reveals something similar where one of the most common inquiries I’m receiving goes something like this: “I just lost my roster spot - what happens now?”

This is not to oppose the underlying merits of student-athlete compensation. Their direct and indirect financial impact can be immense for institutions and warrants fair compensation. It is to suggest that the settlement really doesn’t settle anything. It has merely shifted the playing field, retrofitting regulations on antiquated systems that cannot support the shifts. Evolution meant to empower athletes will instead erode the very opportunities that defined intercollegiate athletics for more than a century.

The collegiate model once prized broad-based participation. Opportunity—the chance for a late-blooming walk-on to earn a spot, for a swimmer to train toward Paris, for a tennis player to compete on scholarship at a state school—was its beating heart. That heart is being stilled, not by athlete compensation itself, but by a settlement structure that privileges cash over access.

College sports have long existed as a two-tiered system. But unintended consequences of the recent settlement will extend far and wide. Each decision removes scholarships, coaching jobs and a pipeline to Olympic teams that the United States has long valued. Cutbacks erase traditions and team culture, they change alumni connections and eliminate pathways to higher education.

In all of it, the primary lesson that the NCAA and its institutions seem to be conveying is: you’re going to need legal representation to navigate a patchwork system.

Unfortunately, this is just the beginning. Four coaches’ associations for Olympic sports wrote a statementabout additional program cuts that are likely to come. But they could have been talking about the broader consequences: “More are likely to follow.”

EXHIBIT A

Seven groups of athletes have filed appeals against the House v. NCAA settlement within the allotted 30-day window, primarily challenging how the $2.8 billion in back damages will be distributed. As a result, an automatic stay has been triggered on these damage payments, meaning no players will receive backpay until the appeals process plays out. Interestingly, none of the appeals are trying to stop the forward-looking parts of the settlement, such as the new revenue-sharing model, which, as of now, operates without clear Title IX regulations.

What I’m really watching is how these Title IX-based appeals around backpay could set important precedents for gender equity in future settlements and NCAA policies, especially if the courts find the current distribution formula discriminatory. These aren’t just procedural roadblocks; they’re a real opportunity to make sure the evolution of college athletics doesn’t leave women athletes behind.

EXHIBIT B

Lawmakers in the U.S. House dropped an amended version of the SCORE Act this week – legislation that aims to bring some structure to the rapidly evolving world of college sports. There’s a lot to digest, and honestly, it’s a mixed bag. I’m viewing the new bill with both cautious optimism and concern. 

Let’s start with the good: the bill includes some real wins for athlete welfare. It would prevent schools from pulling scholarships due to injury or performance, require academic and healthcare support beyond eligibility, and set a minimum number of varsity sports teams. It also calls for more transparency in NIL deals, along with limits on agent fees and better guardrails against shady practices. All of this could bring some much-needed order to a system that’s been operating without a playbook.

But here’s where it gets murky. The bill also puts strict limits on athlete compensation. It bans NIL deals that would push a school over the revenue-sharing cap and requires every NIL agreement to pass a “valid business purpose” test – defined by third-party overseers. That’s a slippery slope. These kinds of restrictions could be used to block legitimate opportunities, especially for athletes who aren't in the big-money sports.

Bottom line: while this bill could bring national consistency, it risks doing so by undermining athlete rights. As it heads to the House floor, let’s hope lawmakers remember who this is really supposed to serve: the athletes themselves. And even if it does make it through the House, it would still need to pass the Senate – a steep climb that could significantly shape, delay, or derail its final form.

ON THE DOCKET

I’m keeping an eye on Cody Campbell’s Saving College Sports non-profit that has made headlines this week. His pitch for a single-payer media rights model sounds good on paper. In theory, it could boost funding across the board and help protect Olympic and women’s sports, which are often the first to face cuts, as I detailed above. But here’s the catch: Campbell isn’t just any concerned bystander – he’s a billionaire booster who’s played a major role in the NIL arms race that’s helped fuel the current chaos. At Texas Tech, he’s used massive deals and flashy facility upgrades to bring in top recruits. While he claims to be playing by the rules, the consolidation of power and resources in the hands of a few wealthy boosters and institutions has only deepened inequities across college sports.

FOOTNOTES

"How do you make a half million dollars and not be an employee?" – West Virginia University football coach Rich Rodriguez on the need for athlete employment and collective bargaining (via @RossDellenger).