From Rachel Toor
I was immune to the college basketball virus for the first seven years I lived in the N.C. Triangle. When I was offered Duke basketball tickets, I sneered and said, "Give them to someone who cares."
Then I got infected. My disease tends to flare up every March.
I stopped paying close attention to intercollegiate athletics (even though I now live in Go Zags! land) so I had to call my work wife.
Me: Wait, what? Stanford and Cal are in the ACC? Cross-continent travel for every team? And Washington State and Oregon State got kicked off the playground? And Dartmouth's basketball players now are unionized? And you can get a cornhole scholarship?
Doug: Yes, all those things. And more. When I started covering college sports almost 40 years ago (!!), an athlete would be disqualified and a team could be barred from a bowl game if a coach gave a hungry recruit a free meal and a bus ticket. Now a university's boosters can legally collect millions of dollars and use them to woo a talented quarterback or a point guard to compensate them for use of their names, images and likenesses. To me, these changes are mostly for the better, because they are more honest about the pre-professional nature of big-time college sports. But they create a wild-west atmosphere that is chaotic and deeply unsettling for college leaders.
Me: What about football? Remember when I wrote that piece for you that inspired hate mail (one dude called me "missy"!). I simply suggested that it might be time for us to drop football for moral reasons (CTI).
Doug: I would discourage my hypothetical grandson from playing football if I had a say, but the game's violence seems not to faze most Americans. (It's cute that you think morals matter, by the way.) This may be March Madness, but football is king in America.
Me: What are the stories you're paying attention to?
Doug: The big story related to college sports is the slow but inevitable death of the concept of amateurism at the highest level of college sports, and the accompanying consolidation of power among an ever-smaller number of universities that play at that highest level. I've laid out my scenario a couple of times in articles I've written, but the gist of it is that I believe 40-50 universities will eventually walk away from the rest of their peers to compete among (and share money only with) themselves, leaving the rest behind and inviting Congress to strip the tax exemption that sports programs enjoy because they are considered educational. Killing the golden goose, as it were.
Me: Yesterday you texted me, "See, they have a chance!" We'd talked about how I had gone to watch my alma mater's team practice in the Spokane Arena on Thursday. I hadn't gotten tickets because, really, who wants to see a blowout?
With 18 minutes to go in the second half, I started watching. OMG. OMG. OMG.
After the game was over, after I'd screamed so loud Harry left the room, I had to go for a run to get my pulse rate down.
Back in the day, my university president wrote an essay that starts, "It breaks your heart." Baseball makes for great literary fodder, but college basketball in March is something else. I'd forgotten how quickly I can invest. How much pleasure I get from being entirely stressed out. How there's eternity in an hour (or in 33 seconds).
We can critique until the cows come home, and there is much about athletics I just don't get, but these games, well, they can cause your jaded little heart to swell.