When new athletic director Rick George put his autograph on a contract with the University of Colorado, it was worth a base salary of $700,000, the most lucrative salary ever paid to an administrator by the school.
If Texas A&M quarterback Johnny Manziel took $7,500 from a memorabilia broker for his autograph, it could cost the Heisman Trophy winner his eligibility for a national championship contender.
What’s wrong with this picture?
When it comes to common sense, college football is bankrupt.
Why did Colorado and Texas A&M leave the Big 12 Conference, divorcing long-standing rivals while thumbing a greedy nose at tradition?
Hint: If you really believe the moves by the Buffs and Aggies had anything to do with the academic welfare of their student-athletes, then you might also be naive enough to believe that a scholarship at a football factory is a free education.
Jon Embree, a man who genuinely loves CU, was dumped as football coach of his alma mater without ever getting a fair chance to prove his worth, because the lousy 4-21 product he delivered for two seasons failed to generate the $20 million in annual donations sought by the school.
Johnny Football is a larger-than-life product that has morphed into a bigger beast than the NCAA rule book, the Manning family or a 20-year-old student at Texas A&M knows how to handle.
It has been popular to call Manziel the victim of a college game that has exploited cheap labor for far too long.
Well, if Manziel is supposed to be some kind of martyr, it’s purely by accident.
He’s young, talented, bulletproof and friends with Drake. There’s nothing wrong with any of that.
But look at the smirk on Manziel’s face and here is what’s impossible to miss: the cynical face of college sports laughing all the way to the bank.
