“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.”
— Herman Melville

My son Sam came home in a panic over a rumor that Tennessee’s star quarterback Nico Iamaleava was entering the transfer portal. Nico led Tennessee to our first college football playoff, and despite a first-round curb-stomp at Ohio State, Vol Nation remains optimistic. As long as Nico stays, most experts think we’ll compete for the national title next year. Sam may not be the only kid in Michigan who idolizes Nico Iamaleava, but he’s the only one who can pronounce (and spell) his name correctly.

But shrouding this hope is the specter of Nico entering the transfer portal to make more money and have a better shot at a title—he currently makes around $8 million at Tennessee.

It’s a lazy take to say NIL and the transfer portal are ruining college football. I’m here to talk about what it’s doing to our children.

Growing up a die-hard Michigan fan, I remember watching Desmond Howard play as a freshman and thinking, “I can’t wait to see how good he is as a senior.” Players paid their dues, worked hard, and earned their spot on the field, making it all the more worthwhile.

I idolized Demetrius Taylor, Erik Anderson, Jim Morrison, and Tim Biakabatuka (also a great name), partly because I got to know them over four years. There was no social media or rivals.com, so I didn’t know they would be at Michigan until they joined the team. Once I saw them play as freshmen or sophomores, I was filled with hope, knowing they had years to develop and contribute. It felt like I was growing up alongside them.

There was likely some exploitation of athletes, but we’ve shifted from schools and coaches having most of the leverage to teenagers having it all. I’ve worked with teenagers for 20 years—I’m not convinced that’s a good idea. In many cases, their handlers have all the leverage. A colleague is friends with a D1 coach who doesn’t even go to games anymore; he does all his recruiting visits at airports with agents.

One of my students is an elite hockey player looking to join his third team in the last three years. He’s 11. I have a 9th-grade football player with an NIL deal who may flip to another high school for more exposure. It’s commonplace for parents to jump from club sports teams for more playing time and exposure.

We all want what is best for our kids—we choose doctors, babysitters, and schools accordingly. That’s good parenting, isn’t it?

But something insidious is happening. We’re teaching our children that we don’t live in a collective—that our individual choices don’t affect the whole. In true American fashion, sports is now all about the individual. We want the best opportunity and, when it’s no longer the best, we seize a better one.

As parents, we feed this mentality. We want our kids on the best teams with the best coaches and uniforms so they can reach their full potential, whether playing professionally or sitting on the JV bench. We make it all about our kid, so naturally, they make it all about themselves.

Maybe college football is a reflection of our society; increasingly, we enter the transfer portal for our schools, churches, jobs, and marriages. We’re a country founded on individualism, so people look out for themselves in the name of freedom. But if we all look out for ourselves, who looks out for each other?

I don’t know how to fix college football. There’s nuance I can’t cover in 900 words. On a personal level, I’m concerned about its impact on my family. We’re a sports family; we often have to pull our kids away from a game on TV to go to bed. It’s hard enough to console them when Tennessee or the Lions lose. My stock answer: “That’s sports, guys. You win some, you lose some. But as long as you give your best effort, you’ve done well.”

But if Nico leaves and this trend continues, how do I answer them? Maybe it’s, “Everyone needs to do what’s best for them, regardless of what they’ve committed to or how it impacts others,” or “It’s just a business. We can’t get attached to these guys.”

They say sports is the ultimate teacher. If we continue down this path, I’m not so sure that teacher is any good.