From nil to NIL

All the cool kids are szn… so they tell me.

Attending a college football game is the sheer embodiment of the vast conglomeration of things I dislike: drunk people yelling, troublesome access to bathrooms, crowds, crowds of drunk people yelling, extreme weather conditions that are unsuitable for my age and demeanor. Cheering for strangers who don’t know I exist? I’ll stick to lauding from afar the Kris Jenner lady on the Golden Bachelor. I have lived in Boulder since I was two years old, and I have attended precisely one CU football game, including my own college years at CU when I actually had friends on the team.

For the record, I love Deion Sanders. I can now respectably wear my sunglasses indoors to cover my VEB (Visible Eye Bags) because of this iconic trailblazer, and for that, I am forever grateful. I also love one liners and his 90s rap song. But fair weather I am not, and I can’t compromise my core values, which include not mingling with more than one 19-year-old wearing a crop top at once (as I have noticed is the preferred fashion choice of game attendees both male and female while viewing on tv from the safety of my sofa).

In fact, it seemed nothing would ever pique my interest in college sports until very recently when all that changed due to one sole reason: NIL. From nil interest to NIL, and here I am.

Name Image Likeness rights allow college athletes to profit from their personal brand, endorsements, and sponsorships while participating in collegiate sports. And this speaks to me in a way that sporting events never could.

Athletes can earn money by capitalizing on their personal brand through sponsorships, endorsements, appearances, and social media. This provides them with a chance to monetize their skills and popularity during their college years or allows them to “get theirs.” And why not? They should be able to bridge the gap between the revenue generated by sports programs and the financial compensation available to the athletes. Plus, they’re out there getting injured just like the pros.

And now, I love CU football. Not really because of anything on the field, but because of what is happening off the field and on Instagram. Hello, Jimmy Horn Jr for Cricket Mobile? Yes. Alton McCaskill x Freddy’s (apparently a fun diner I have never heard of). My personal favorite: Marvin Ham for the local hot spot, Camp Bow Wow. The average college student is able to be an “influencer” and get beaucoup free things, why shouldn’t athletes be entitled to the same?

Are those BAPE shirts gifted? Why is everyone driving a Lexus? What about the Rolex? Would CU Football players actually shop at Urban Outfitters amidst girls buying things I wore arguably better the first time around in the 90s? (#justsaying) Filled with mystery and intrigue, I am fully captivated. I have watched videos of Travis Hunter and his girlfriend trying on Halloween costumes and giving a home tour of their Gatorade collection, and now I feel there is finally something in the world of college sports that speaks to ME.

But it's not just entertainment (and, yes, the obvious argument: is watching a couple try on a soap and loofa costume entertaining) it is a matter of business and data. The average influencer has an engagement rate of 1%-3%. Travis Hunter has nearly 8% with 1 million followers (as a follower count goes up, engagement rates can go down). These athletes have huge reach, engagement and engagement. I searched through the majority of players profiles and only saw a handful of social partnerships. As someone with minimal interest in the actual game of football, this is what keeps me on the edge of my seat.

One thing that stands out is how little the CU football players post on Instagram. Is this by design? Inquiring minds want to know. While I appreciate forgoing the humbling act of thirst trappery, there is money to be made and goods to be scored.

Surely the money is coming from boosters, but oh, what’s the fun in that? Boring dinners where old alumni can’t even appreciate the irony of Omarion Miller’s 90s bling-inspired merch. I want to see these athletes hustle on Instagram the way I see the Mom hustle. Moms are out there getting theirs, crying into bottles of formula (they are sponsoring) about their Mom woes, trying to make brands like Palmolive cool.

And so it nags at me. Why aren't more brands jumping to work with these athletes? With their potential to engage, connect, and inspire, it's a marketing opportunity waiting to be seized. Regardless of what is happening on the field (I would never go so off brand as to comment on the offensive, or defensive line- not sure which one needs work...) all eyes are on CU at the moment, and the reach and engagement are huge.

To inspire those brand deal contracts up, we need to look no further than Sanders himself for inspiration: “It’s gonna be a lot of zeroes in that contract. You gonna think it’s alphabet soup or something, all those zeroes in there.” This isn’t the college football of ten or even five years ago; it is a whole new ball game (who could resist?).

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