First, the particulars, because three years later, it still makes no sense.
A Georgia football player died in January 2023 while a car he was riding in was racing other Georgia football players. More than 20 Georgia players have since been cited or arrested for speeding and/or reckless driving — including two last week.
But before we jump on Georgia coach Kirby Smart about discipline and direction and leading young men, maybe it’s time we go to the source: players.
Maybe it’s time we take a detailed look at what we’re doing in the NIL world, and how young men flush with cash now feel bulletproof.
Wasn’t that long ago when the cycle of pandering and prostitution of athletes included cutting corners, skipping classes and answers to tests. All before they even reached high school.
From there it was academic fraud — including ACT and SAT college entrance exam fraud — and shady middlemen who brokered financial deals with colleges under the table.
A car here, a bag of cash there. A house for Mom, and a job for Dad. All part of the game.
Until much of the seen and unseen of this dirty dalliance no one wanted to admit was revealed with the advent of the NIL era. At least, the machinations of it all.
Because one thing still stands clear: There were no rules in the shadows then, there are no rules in the sunlight now.
We’ve gone from pushing players through school despite them not knowing the work — in some cases, not being able to read — to throwing millions of dollars at them before they step on a college campus.
Just to be clear: The enabling sins of the past haven’t ended. They’ve been — if you can believe this utter nonsense — reinforced with foundational money and free player movement that has soiled the entire college experience.
Higher education is as much about academics as it is proving you can live on your own with individual responsibilities (and vices), and figuring a way to grow and prosper as a human — much less an athlete.
Now throw millions of dollars into that equation. Then add the built-in excuses and reset of free player movement.
No wonder players feel bulletproof. No wonder the greatest concern for NFL scouts now isn’t playing ability, but life skills and maturity.
How else can you explain Georgia players — after Devin Willock’s tragic death while riding in a car racing other teammates at speeds in excess of 100 mph — doing the same thing? Over and over and over.
How else do you explain Georgia linebacker Chris Cole, one of the SEC’s top young players with a bright professional future, last week racing teammate Darren Ikinnagbon and driving 105 mph in a 65 mph zone on Outer Loop 10 in Athens, Ga.?
Or about 2-3 miles from where Willock lost his life.
Smart can suspend players (he’s done that), he can kick them off the team (he’s done that, too). He can talk to players about the inherent danger, or have law enforcement explain the odds of significant injury and bodily harm when racing (yep, check).
But at the end of the day, this is an individual making a poor decision.
An individual who, in many cases, has been given whatever he wants, whenever he wants, because he’s elite at the sport he plays.
Make no mistake, players deserve their fair share of the billions in media rights universities earn every year. We’re well down that road, and there’s no going back.
The problem: We’ve taken consequences completely out of the equation.
If it doesn’t work at this school, it’ll work at that one. If this coach doesn’t like me, that coach will give me another chance.
If I underperformed my NIL deal at this school, that school will still give me cash.
There’s no pause in the process like there once was, no opportunity of reflection or a life reorg while sitting out a transfer season. It’s one deal to the next until you reach the NFL.
Or you don’t, and then what have we accomplished ― other than temporary wealth?
If Smart dismisses Cole or Ikinnagbon, there will be a line of schools waiting to take them, give them cash and further exacerbate the problem.
Three years later, it still makes no sense.
