A Former Athletic Director’s View: This Is a Crossroads for All of College Athletics

I’ve spent a lifetime in college athletics. I’ve seen winning streaks, losing streaks, facility booms, television contracts that felt unimaginable at the time, and coaches who became larger than life. I helped raise over $40 million for facility renovations and upgrades. Millions more for staffing and budget enhancements. I’ve also sat in budget meetings where the numbers didn’t quite add up and hoped the next season would solve the problem.

What concerns me now is that we are no longer dealing with a temporary imbalance. We are facing a structural shift — one that affects not just football and basketball, but every sport on campus. My background in Division III is rooted in a well-rounded balanced athletic department. That balance is in jeopardy.

For decades, big-time college football operated on a fairly simple assumption: invest aggressively, compete nationally, and the revenue would eventually catch up. Media deals would grow. Donors would respond. Stadium projects would pay for themselves. Football would carry the weight of the department and make it possible to sponsor 20 or 25 other sports.

That model is under real strain.

Athletic departments at schools like Ohio State University, UCLA, Rutgers University, Colorado University and the University of North Carolina have reported significant operating deficits over the past three years or projected them in coming years. These aren’t minor accounting adjustments. They are eight-figure gaps. And they are happening at institutions with strong brands and passionate fan bases.

If they are feeling this pressure, everyone is.

The coming era of revenue sharing — distributing more than $20 million annually to athletes — represents a profound change. However, anyone feels about it philosophically, from a budget standpoint it introduces a major recurring expense. For years, departments were built around the understanding that scholarships were the primary form of compensation. That framework no longer exists.

Revenue sharing is not new income. It is a new obligation. Cutting more slices into the same pie does not make it a bigger pie.

Layer onto that the escalation in coaching salaries and buyouts. I remember when a million-dollar contract turned heads. Today, multi-million-dollar coordinators and eight-figure head coaches are routine. When a program stumbles and leadership changes, the financial consequences are immediate and substantial. There is no grace period in those contracts.

Then there is NIL. Even when the dollars sit outside the athletic department’s formal ledger, the pressure is very real. To remain competitive, schools invest in compliance staff, fundraising infrastructure, athlete services, and relationship management. If you fall behind in that environment, performance suffers. And when performance suffers, so do ticket sales and donations. The cycle tightens quickly.

At the same time, many institutions made long-term facility investments under optimistic revenue projections. Renovated stadiums, practice complexes, performance centers — financed through bonds that require steady payments. Debt does not adjust when attendance dips or media growth slows. It remains. Sometimes debt relief is 30-40% of the annual operating budget.

Conference realignment has added another layer of complexity. Leagues like the Big Ten Conference have secured extraordinary media deals, but even within those conferences not every member operates comfortably in the black. For schools outside the power structure, the financial divide is becoming harder to bridge, even as they face similar cost pressures.

For years, football has subsidized everything else — Olympic sports, compliance growth, academic services, administrative expansion. That cross-subsidy remains essential. But it is no longer guaranteed.

As a former athletic director, my greatest concern is not whether football will survive. It will.

My concern is whether the broad-based model of college athletics — one that supports swimming, track and field, soccer, wrestling, gymnastics, baseball, softball, and so many other opportunities — can be sustained without difficult choices.

Those choices unfortunately are coming.

Some institutions may cut sports. Others will raise ticket and concession prices and lean harder on donors. Some will seek private capital or new financing models. A few may further separate football from the rest of the department, operating it more like a standalone enterprise. And some schools may decide that chasing the spending race is no longer aligned with their institutional mission.

None of these decisions are easy. All of them carry consequences.

The old assumption — that revenue will continue to rise faster than expenses — is gone. Today’s athletic directors are not just competitive leaders; they are financial stewards navigating unprecedented complexity. Schools are looking to fill these roles with financial experts who can manage budgets and raise dollars.

This is not the end of college athletics. But it is a crucial moment.

We must remember that college athletics was built not only on television contracts and bowl games, but on opportunity — for young men and women across dozens of sports to compete, earn an education, and represent their universities with pride. Everyone enjoyed watching USA athletes at the Olympic games compete in hockey, speed skating and more this winter. Many have been developed in collegiate programs. Programs in jeopardy going forward.

If we approach this moment with discipline, transparency, and courage, we can preserve that broader mission. If we chase only the next television deal or the next headline hire, we risk narrowing what has made college athletics special.

The games will still be played on Saturdays. The bands will still march. The rivalries will still matter.

But the business decisions made in the next few years will determine whether the entire enterprise — not just football and basketball — remains healthy for the generations that follow.