Brent Freeman has been a Georgia football season ticket holder for the past 32 years of his life. The tickets have been passed down to his family, and he and his father now donate just over $4,000 a year to UGA for the right to four seats near the 25-yard line, about 50 rows up.
“It's perfect,” Freeman said of the view.
Freeman, who lives in Evans, Georgia, outside Augusta, describes herself as middle class. Spending thousands of dollars a year on tickets isn't ideal, but it's always been part of the household budget. He loves the Dawgs. Two years ago, when his friend told him about Georgia's new collection of names, images and portraits, Freeman decided to donate $30 a month.
But now that dynamic is changing. The collective is seen as a way to acquire players, and Freeman fears he and other fans will be asked to do more. Meanwhile, he estimates the SEC pays schools, including Georgia, tens of millions of dollars each year. And he heard about NIL payments being made to certain recruits, not by the school but by fans like him.
“I have no ill will toward the university or anything like that. My frustration is with the system,” Freeman said. “I think it's the wrong thing to ask us, the fans, that the money the NCAA has brought in and the fact that they're asking fans, and not just Georgia fans but fans across the country, to donate more is ridiculous.” I think. You can't explain to me that this is the best way.”
This is another complaint from fans and another factor that could lead to major changes in college sports, including revenue sharing in which schools pay players directly, rather than asking fans to pay through their organizations. .
In the NIL industry, there is a term called donor fatigue. Fans, who have already been asked to donate large sums of money for season tickets, not to mention competition for facility improvements, are now being asked to basically pay the players, but schools are not allowed to make direct donations. Prohibited by NCAA rules.
“It's certainly on all of our minds right now,” said Walker Jones, executive director of the Globe Collective, which supports Ole Miss athletes. “I think there is an understanding that the donor-driven model and the fan-driven model are not fair and are not sustainable.…
“I think it would be wise for these power conferences to figure out revenue sharing and find a way to collectively bargain. That way, we can address donor fatigue, increase sustainability, and ensure that through revenue sharing athletes have access to names, You’ll be able to really leverage your image, your likeness.”
Someone compared NIL to a trampoline. NIL is used to take programs to the next level, but trampolines cost money to build and people need to be taught how to use them. Some may see NIL as a burden rather than a trampoline.
The organization does not rely entirely on small monthly donors. Large donors, whether individuals or corporations, often make up the majority of donations. But the appeal of small donors is that they can give more consistently. If an organization can rally thousands of fans from each school with a small monthly donation, that means a lot of money.
But fans have to be convinced to donate, and many don't want to do that. Greg Sullivan, 57, lives in Athens, attends many Georgia sporting events and has been a football season ticket holder for more than 30 years. He pays about $3,000 a year for two tickets to Sanford Stadium.
When asked to donate to the organization, he declined. Part of the reason, as Sullivan admits, is that he's his old-school personality.
“I think because I’ve been there so long and been around so long, I’ve gotten used to the old ways,” he said. “You've seen where a lot of money goes, like Lamborghinis. It's something you don't want to be associated with.”
If the NIL era is to continue, Sullivan believes schools should make direct payments. He pointed to another factor contributing to reluctance to donate. That is the lack of transparency of organizations, as they are private and do not have to disclose their finances. Uninformed fans don't know how much the players are getting, how much the group needs, and how much the group has.
“We don't know if they have enough or if they need more,” Sullivan said.
Neil Paul, a Clemson fan who lives in Anderson, South Carolina, has been donating to Clemson's athletic department's fundraising arm since 1987, paying about $2,000 each year for season tickets. After missing the 2020 season due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Paul and his wife chose not to renew and have never looked back. He hears the same words among his season-ticket holders. People only have enough disposable income to support a team.
“Money trumps loyalty,” Paul said. “You'll hear our donor friends say, “Since this is what's hitting us, could you please increase your donation by even 10 percent?'' where does it end? ”
Jason Belzer is the founder of the Student Athlete NIL agency, which advises approximately 50 organizations. Donor fatigue was inevitable under the current model, he said.
“These people have had to step up to pay the salaries of these teams as well as the normal operating expenses of the university,” Belzer said. “We are now in his third year of NIL, and many school donors are not getting a return on their investment, at least not before their name is on the building. Even if you pay the salary, your team won’t win.”
Belzer estimates that at least 15 school organizations will pay a total of more than $10 million to their football teams this season. He said the median price for a power conference will be about $4 million to $5 million. This is money in addition to or in place of traditional donations such as season tickets and facilities.
“I have these conversations with ADs all the time. If you're not prepared, you're going to be on the wrong track for what's going to happen,” Belzer said in terms of revenue sharing. Ta.
But where does the current model place programs? I spoke to several experts who granted anonymity to discuss these issues, and they agreed it varies by program. did.
Georgia is probably in the same group as Alabama as programs that have been able to recruit players well on the field and win games recently, but Alabama faces big changes as it moves forward without Nick Saban. They've built a lot of facilities over the past decade and raised money to do so, so many donors may be about to be squeezed out. LSU, Clemson and other schools that have seriously entered the facility race are also in that boat. But teams like Georgia have the added “heavy burden” of recent success, leaving fans wondering why their group needs the money.
Sullivan's reluctance speaks to what Georgia and Alabama are facing: a lack of panic.
“I know that’s a little different, but would you please donate to help us win one of the championships,” Sullivan said. “But we just ended a 41-year drought.”
In Texas, Texas A&M or Tennessee (among others), programs and donors may have great facilities, etc., but encourage more participation in NIL donor programs because they want to get back to their glory days. It has been. There's a desperation factor for a place like Nebraska, which was flooded with huge donations after luring five-star quarterback Dylan Raiola from Georgia in December.
There are some programs that are strong in the NIL, such as Kansas, Kansas State, and Missouri, but it takes some effort to reach the top tier. Athletic directors and coaches have found this to be a great tool and are encouraging donations. For example, “Hey, this is a way to deliver a better product in the field.”
When it comes to fundraising, school administrators know they have to make adjustments. Some people, even big donors, are refraining from funding facilities and other traditional items, knowing that their money is limited.
“At the end of the day, the NIL is probably the most direct path to competitiveness,” said one administrator who participated in a power conference program. “The old adage in fundraising is to say, 'What do you need? How can I help you?' It used to be, 'We need a new locker room,' or something like that. Now, 90 percent, if not 100 percent, of coaches will say, “I need zero money.'' ”
Ole Miss is one school that is already feeling that. Athletic director Keith Carter said this week that plans to renovate the stadium have been “shelved” because of the current landscape.
But when it comes to raising money for the collective, Ole Miss is an example of total buy-in from the coaches to the administration to the fans. The Grove Collective was one of the most high-profile collectives, and Ole Miss continued its 11-win season with key transfer acquisitions.
“I think everyone understands that it's showing proof of concept, so it's probably OK,” Jones said. “But the moment you see a decline in your success on the court or the field, you're probably going to have some problems.”
That speaks to the sustainability of the current model. There is a limited amount of time a school can raid fans for money. That makes revenue sharing more attractive. Donors have the advantage of being tax deductible if the funds go to the school rather than the organization.
But there are also concerns that funding will be taken away from women's sports and non-revenue sports. The concern is that if the revenue share is too high (e.g., 50/50), athletic directors may cut sports such as cross country, golf, and tennis.
That's why Jones and others are in favor of getting ahead of the problem by collectively bargaining with athletes to get a percentage to keep things afloat in all sports. This would remove the pressure on groups to raise funds themselves.
“Right now, everyone is on a hamster wheel 365 days a year trying to make payroll and make money,” Jones said. “If we can take some of the pressure off the collective and the donor base, I think everyone wins, including the student-athletes.”
What the whole thing will look like is still complicated. Jones said the power conferences, especially the Big Ten and SEC, should take the lead in solving this. That could mean paying players directly, or it could mean paying them through the collective.
“We're seeing a slow and steady rise in common sense and acceptance of what this actually is and what it's going to be,” Jones said. “People fought and fought and fought against it. I think everyone now thinks, 'Well, there's no use fighting it anymore.' We have to find the best way to accept it. ”
Freeman agrees that players should be paid. He's happy for them.
“I don't think donations should come from hard-working middle-class people who have donated to schools,” he says. “Especially when you hear about the billions of dollars they're making from ESPN.”
And after talking to friends and fellow season ticket holders, he's convinced he's not alone.
“The consensus is that it's unfair to the fans. It's unfair to pile on and give and give. And there's no regulation or enforcement of that either,” he said. “We're just getting started. When will it stop? Where will things be in five years?”
(Top photo: Jamie Schwabelow/Getty Images)