D3 Life: Funding

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks absorbed in my new job teaching sports studies out of the English Department at Oberlin College. I’ve also agreed to serve on the General Faculty Athletics Committee and as a Faculty Athletics Representative.While there are some similarities between my experiences at Michigan and Oberlin, the differences are far more striking.  The whole Oberlin campus would probably come close to fitting inside Michigan’s football stadium, and would easily rest within the general complex of which the famed Big House is a part.  Last Saturday I went to Oberlin’s season opening football game, along with 430 other people, including our new President, who stood in the stands among students and colleagues, as the players, whom you would never recognize as such off the season because they are the same size as you or me, slogged through a downpour to their first win since 2015.  This is the beginning of my D3 life.  And I want occasionally to post here some snapshots of that experience.

Besides my paid duties, I’ve also agreed to serve as a volunteer on the coaching staff for the men’s basketball team. I haven’t coached in decades, but I always loved it and I’m very excited to be part of it. So far I’ve just been part of a few meetings, some with the players and some with just the other coaches.  But, among other things, I’ve already been impressed by how much work this underpaid D3 staff does behind the scenes to create a positive experience for the athletes. My colleagues have used their time with the players thus far to emphasize the importance of off court behaviors and habits that will help these young people develop into responsible, caring teammates, students, and members of their community.

These coaches will never be pulling in even 1/10th or 1/50th of the salaries of their D1 counterparts. They have no contracts with Nike or Amex or even local used car dealerships, and they never will. Coaching at Oberlin College probably isn’t the ideal stepping stone if what you’re after is a plum D1 coaching job. They have a contract with Nike: it gets them a discount on their uniforms.  You’ll never know their players names or see them on TV. Their locker room isn’t paneled in expensive wood, their lockers are not personalized.  It is smaller and in worse condition than the one I used at my small Catholic high school in the early 1980s.  Like we did, the players buy their own shoes. They travel to road games in tiny Midwestern towns in beat up vans.  They carve time to improve their game out of schedules already crammed with demanding academic courses of study, social justice work, and other extra curricular activities on campus and in town.  And they play their games in a gym that would be small at many high schools, before not thousands, nor even hundreds, but dozens of fans. But if you watched the game on the floor, and saw the sweat on their faces, you wouldn’t know these things. So far, it appears to me, all involved invest their time and energy because they love to do it despite the fact that the market, in its infinite blindness, has determined that the efforts of my colleagues and students are of zero value. I am inspired by this demonstration of unvalued passion.

That said, it takes money to keep these programs afloat, more money than the institution can afford to invest in them.  After all, unvalued passion doesn’t fill gas tanks, or replace broken equipment.

So, in a throwback to my Catholic school upbringing, we are holding a raffle to help raise money for the team.  I know that there are larger and more urgent needs around the world these days and that everybody’s resources are scarce and in high demand.  But please consider purchasing a raffle ticket and (or) please share this with others you know who you believe may be willing and able to do so.

For $20 you have a chance at winning the $500 grand prize, or one of two $250 prizes.  But it’s not about the prizes. Your $20 will help defray the costs of travel, upkeep of facilities, and equipment for the team.  But most of all,  for $20 you can have the satisfaction of knowing you are contributing to the survival of sport at a level where it truly embodies the best things that sport can provide our young people. You can click on this link to buy one. 

Thanks for helping to support the D3 life.

 

 

Hail. No.

The shoes are pretty sick, but I literally would not wear them even if Nike paid me to.

I’m not even going to show a picture.

Because the shoes are fucking sick.  I have seen and heard (and smelled) a lot in the years that I have been scouring the colon of big time athletics at Michigan.  But this is some next level shit.

According to the websites Nice Kicks and Sneakernews, Nike’s Jordan Brand previewed a new sneaker model: the Air Jordan 5 Fab 5 PE.  Rapper DJ Khaled—who last fall emceed the Ann Arbor event at which Nike first unveiled the Michigan athletic apparel it had created as part of its $173.8 million deal with the University—posted photos and videos of the shoes on his Instagram account over the past weekend.

I wasn’t in any of the meetings that led to the appearance of this new thing in the world. So I can’t say with certainty whether it is stupidity, greed, irresponsibility, hypocrisy, cynicism, or merely irony that’s being manifested here, but I suspect a combination was at work.

The so-called “Block M,” which appears on the front of the tongue of the new sneakers is a federally registered trademark, which means that any use of the logo on merchandise sold for profit requires approval from the University’s Trademark Licensing office.

Apart from some generalities available to the general public, I don’t know what legal stipulations govern the relationship between the University and Nike. But I assume that the main thing that Nike got for its 174 million dollars was the right to use the block M on merchandise sold for profit. I doubt anyone at Michigan ever saw—let alone signed off on—this shoe before it hit the internet this weekend. But I still hold the University partially responsible for selling its soul—(soul, brand, whatever)—to the highest bidder.

I know, that’s obvious.  It’s how college licensing works.  Universities sell the rights to use their name and brand logos to commercial entities. According to the Collegiate Licensing Company, “the retail marketplace for college-licensed merchandise in 2013 was estimated at $4.59 billion” and Michigan ranked third behind the University of Texas and the University of Alabama in sales that year.

Along with the money generated by ticket sales, commercial sponsorships, and television contracts, the revenues generated by these licensing deals are why so many of us consider college athletes, whose compensation is limited to aid covering cost of attendance, to be economically exploited laborers.

That is why as a general rule I don’t buy Michigan athletic apparel. It is not that I don’t support those students of mine who are Michigan athletes.  It is that I do support those students of mine who are Michigan athletes, and so I refuse to be complicit with this aspect of their exploitation. And yes, I’m aware that is an arbitrary line to draw and that it has pretty much no effect on the system as a whole.  But it at least lets me look my students in the eye.

But if all that’s just basic Big Time College Sports 101, then the Air Jordan 5 Fab 5 PE kicks are, as I say, next level, advanced graduate seminar, shit. To understand why, consider this.

In 1990-1991, the year before the five freshman who would come to be known as the Fab Five arrived on the UM campus, the University took in $2 million in merchandising revenues.  In 1992-1993, after their sophomore year, that number had jumped more than 500 %, to $10.5 million, fueled by the extraordinary popularity of the styles pioneered by the five talented and successful young black men. Meanwhile, Nike and the University of Michigan were at the time pioneering what would become the standard relationship between large apparel manufacturers and universities in this country.

On November 7, 2002, University President Mary Sue Coleman announced that Michigan would be imposing sanctions on its own athletic program as a result of NCAA violations involving a handful of players during the 1990s, among them Chris Webber of the so-called Fab Five. The sanctions included vacating the basketball team’s two Final Four games from the 1991-1992 season, and every game of the 1992-1993 season.  As a result, the banners commemorating the team’s appearance in the Final Four in both those seasons would be removed from the rafters of Crisler Arena.

In 2012, nearly ten years later, in response to a question from a student of mine during a fireside chat, President Coleman reiterated her position that the self-imposed sanctions were proper and should remain in effect. She said that what happened was not good and was a source of shame for the University.

 

To this day, despite increasing calls from University faculty, candidates for the Board of Regents, and alumni, the University still does not officially recognize the on-court accomplishments or off-court impact of the five players and their teammates.  According to the University, those teams won no games stretching from the end of the 1991-1992 seasons through the whole of the 1992-1993 season.  Though these “facts” were the result of the University’s own policy decisions, unilaterally reversing these decisions and reinstating the banners, University administrators appear to feel, could jeopardize the University’s relationship with some wealthy alumni and with the NCAA.

In other words, according to the University, the so-called Fab Five were literally not victors.  And yet, on the opposite side from the black Block M on the tongue the new Air Jordan 5 Fab 5 PE sneakers is the word “Victors,” a reference the school’s fight song: “Hail to the Victors.” The five, it seems, as ever, may be considered Victors for the purposes of generating revenue, but not for the purposes of acknowledging the reality of the institution’s history.

And for what it’s worth, I don’t think it matters much that this shoe is designed as a limited edition and not for retail.  Both Nike and the University, I feel confident, will still profit indirectly from the manufacture of this shoe, if only through the free publicity for both that is generated by having celebrities like DJ Khaled post images of the shoe to their social media accounts.

I’m disgusted that the University should at one and the same time refuse publicly to celebrate the legacy of the teams and take in revenue associated with the manufacture of a product that celebrates and trades on that legacy.

But here is perhaps the most cynically and shamelessly exploitative aspect of the whole deal. The heel of the shoe features a black hand, index and middle finger crossed in a sign the young players made famous 25 years ago as emblematizing the nickname they’d chosen for themselves: 5X (pronounced “five times.”).

In a recent (unpaid) visit to a class I teach on sports culture at Michigan, team member Jimmy King explained the tension between the two nicknames to a student who was born after Jimmy and his teammates set basketball culture at Michigan and across the nation on fire:

The ‘Fab Five’ was totally the media. That wasn’t us. Doesn’t that sound corny, ‘Fab Five’? That’s corny. Who would give yourself the name ‘Fab Five’? How corny is that? So you know, what we did was come up with our own name, which was ‘Five Times’ or “Five Times One’ and the reason why we came up with that name is because the five of us would come together as basically one group or one ultimate player, kinda like Voltron—if you remember that show, where the five pieces come together and you become this one giant entity. So that was the idea behind the name of ‘Five Times.’ And also it was the number ‘5’ with the letter ‘X’ and the number ‘1’ and the ‘X’ because of a play on Malcolm X with the ‘no identity’ having given ourselves our own name and not being branded by the media.

Jimmy was explaining that they sought, in effect, to elude the latest in a centuries-old tradition in this country of naming (or renaming) black men and, conversely, to take their place in a proud tradition of black men choosing their own names and in the process telling their own stories, authoring the course of their own lives.

Original art work, created for a class project by my student Peter Mascheroni.

So with this new sneaker, Nike and, by association, the University of Michigan have managed to turn a name and symbol the players devised to defy their commercial exploitation into a commodity that will enrich everyone involved except the young men who created it.

According to Steve Busch, Brand Manager at the University, in determining when to approve of the use of the Block M for commercial purposes, the University stays “away from things that we would call the ‘sin items’: We don’t do anything affiliated with items like alcohol, tobacco, drugs or pornography.”

We stay away from “sin items,” but that apparently does not include exploiting the creative talent and cultural impact of five young black men while simultaneously disavowing them.

This should shock us. But I’m afraid it won’t shock very many people.  I understand why.  But I also think that only further underlines the importance of calling this shit out and revealing it for the strange, unnatural, harmful, and anti-educational practice that it is.

For sports fans, like me, and even educators (also like me), finding a clean path through the thicket of moral entanglements in college sports is more than tricky. It is impossible. You follow college sports, like me, you’re dirty.  It’s that simple.  Of course, if you use an Apple product, you’re also dirty, and so on.  But the impossibility of perfect cleanliness shouldn’t, I think, prevent us from doing the murky good we can.

And nobody associated with the University of Michigan should be cool that the University profits off the labor of students—especially students of color—it officially pretends did not exist.

So even though I feel the shoes are sick, I won’t wear them.  I wouldn’t wear them if Nike paid me to.  Of course, if Nike or UM were to pay Ray, Jimmy, Jalen, Juwan, and Chris? Well, that would be, precisely, a different story.

Happy International Workers Day.

 

 

Why Fab 5 at 25?

This is the text of my opening remarks for the Fab 5 @ 25 round table symposium.  The University video taped the event and will be making that available to the public, hopefully before too long.

screenshot-2016-10-10-06-44-48The impact of the Fab Five on basketball and our cultural landscape was immeasurable.  As we’ve just heard it was felt even by a young Hoosier attending a small liberal arts college who would grow up to become a quantitative political scientist and our Dean.  He was not alone, of course. Their superb and electrifying play, their exuberant and authentic self-expression, and their courageous outspokenness transformed not only college basketball, but, in some ways, all of sport, and sparked challenging and increasingly urgent conversations about race, money, and education in big time college sports.  But you know all that.  You know, too, that their legacy was left in limbo as a result of investigations uncovering the loans that one member of the team accepted.

We are here, as Dean Martin explained, to address these topics openly, in an academic setting, in keeping with the mission, and best traditions, of the great community of students and scholars that comprise the University of Michigan.  We have here an opportunity to lead by continuing and deepening the challenging and urgent conversations these players and their teammates helped amplify:  how can universities like Michigan preserve their educational mission and safeguard the well-being of their students in the context of the rapidly expanding commercialization of college sports? What sort of opportunities do college sports provide us for addressing and overcoming social inequalities and cultural stereotypes? What is the legacy of the Fab Five in Michigan’s own history, and what is the most appropriate way for the University to mark that legacy?

But, even as we take up these questions today, I know from experience that our event offers another, deeper opportunity for all of us.  I met Jimmy King in March of 2012, when he accepted my invitation to speak to students in my undergraduate Cultures of Basketball class.  He has come every time I’ve taught the course since then and has even played in the intra class 3 on 3 tournament the students organize at the end of each semester.  Now, I pride myself on being an effective teacher. But I know they feel that the hour and a half they spend with Jimmy is the unforgettable highlight of the semester and that the challenging and inspiring lessons he imparts will stay with them forever.

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I understand why they feel that way.  I feel that way too.  It’s because Jimmy is, among many other things, a superb teacher.  In fact, though I don’t know Ray as well, nor Jalen or Juwan at all, I believe that all four of these men are, and were when they were students here, superb teachers. In fact, I view them as one of the University great treasures: a trove of unique life experiences which they transform into accessible lessons. These are lessons not only about basketball, or college sports.  Not even only about race or class or exploitation.  They are deeper life lessons about joy, creativity, and integrity, about solidarity, trust, and loyalty and, perhaps above all, about freedom.  We should consider ourselves fortunate that we have here today something life doesn’t often provide: a second chance; a second chance not only to hear their voices, but to listen to them and so to learn what we may have missed when they first offered it 25 years ago. I for one, plan to make the most of it.

As the fellas used to say before stepping into the arena: let ‘em hang.

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Just How Exploited Are My Students? An Adventure

Yesterday, I tweeted this out:

Screenshot 2016-01-19 14.46.11

 

It’s gotten a certain amount of traction (Twitter tells me around 20,000 people have seen that Tweet) and so I began to be concerned that I was being irresponsibly provocative.  So let me explain how I got that number.

The Indy Star reported that the NCAA made $769.4 million off March Madness in 2013 ($681M from CBS for TV rights, $82.3 in ticket sales, and $6.1M in ancillary revenue streams).  So, partly for fun, partly out of curiosity, but also out of the conviction that the labor of performing athletes is the primary driver of these revenues, I divided the total revenues by the total player minutes to come up with a figure of $30,224.91 generated per player minute of the 2013 NCAA D1 Men’s Basketball Tournament.  Based on that figure, my five students together “generated,” with their 1017 minutes of basketball over 6 games, $30,738,733.50.

Incidentally, some other facts I discovered in the process: 674 players saw action during the tournament, sharing a grand total of 25,254 minutes of playing time.  Of course, common sense would tell you, since half the teams are eliminated after the first round, that the players on teams making deeper runs are going to have a higher share of the minutes.  What I found, though, was pretty amazing

  • Just 14 players used 10 % of the total minutes.
  • Just 36 players used 25 % of the total minutes.
  • Less than one tenth of players used more than half of the total minutes.
  • Just one third of the players used 75 % of the total minutes.
  • Half the players used 85 % of the total minutes.

People go to NCAA games and watch them on TV to see basketball players play basketball.  In a very real sense, minutes of basketball played creates revenue dollars for the NCAA, a fact not lost on the NCAA which has increased the number of minutes played by expanding the tournament.  If so, then imbalances in the distribution of overall minutes matter. They matter no matter what. But they matter doubly, I would argue, when we consider that black players are disproportionately represented among the group of players using most of the minutes and so generating most of the interest and dollars (11 out of those top 14).

But minutes and NCAA revenues are just one way to frame the story.

Even someone who values the performance of these athletes as much as I do, who knows that if it weren’t for their hard-work and talent there would be no March Madness, must also admit that arenas, coaches, training and all other manner of capital investments (laid out before and during the tournament) also contribute to the madness and so to the revenues.  It also reduces player labor to a single quantity: minutes, which isn’t the worst way to do it, especially from the NCAA standpoitn.  Though I recognize the NCAA will make a bit more or less money depending on who makes a deep run in the tournament, it essentially makes its money regardless of who wins.

But there’s a reasonable argument to made that the productivity of a player, measured in terms of contributions to wins (which generate revenues) matters more, at least at the level of individual institutions.  So while I think my $31M figure illuminates, albeit roughly, the correlation between minutes of player labor and revenues, I wouldn’t necessarily go the mat with an economist arguing that it’s the best way to measure exploitation.

So, to begin get a more precise sense of the exploitation of those five students of mine during the 2012-2013 season, I’m borrowing a page from Dave Berri, who in 2014 wrote a useful primer on the economic exploitation of college athletes for Time magazine.  Let me walk you through that.  Berri defines exploitation as “paying a worker less in wages than their economic contribution to the firm.” In terms of college athletes, exploitation occurs when the value of the scholarship, housing, and any stipend the athlete receives in exchange for competing is lower than the amount of revenue the athlete generates for the school. So, though I’m not mathematically adept, I believe we can turn this definition into relatively simple formula (as Berri goes on to do).

Exploitation (E) = Scholarship Value (SV)/Revenues (R) x 100%

Following Berri, I begin by getting the basketball revenue figures reported by Michigan to the Department of Education and posted on the latter’s “Equity in Athletics Data Analysis Cutting Tool” and discover that Michigan basketball reported $13,636,966 that year.  Let’s just call it $13.6M.

2012-2013 University of Michigan Men’s Basketball Revenues = $13.6M

According to Berri, “Currently the NCAA restricts the payment of athletes to essentially the cost of attending the institution. But in a typical labor market, the payment to workers is unrestricted.” So the question is, what would Michigan have to pay its basketball players in an unrestricted market?

To get at this, we follow Berri in adopting the revenue sharing proportions used in the comparatively unrestricted major professional sports leagues in the United States, including the NBA, where the collective bargaining deal (because, you know, NBA players, unlike “student-atho-letes“, have a union) stipulates roughly a 50/50 revenue split between owners and players.  (Berri notes that the labor market for professional athletes in the US is, in fact, still restricted and that the proportion of revenues they’d receive would likely be higher in a truly unrestricted market, but whatever.)

So, if the 15 players on Michigan’s roster were to receive 50% of the 2012-13 revenues they’d be splitting $6.8M, which works out to $400K apiece.

2012-2013 University of Michigan Average Men’s Basketball Player Revenue Share (In Unrestricted Market) = $400,000

The University of Michigan estimated the cost of attendance for out of state freshman and sophomores living on campus for 2012-2013 at $51,976.  Let’s be generous and call that $52K.

2012-2013 University of Michigan Cost of Attendance = $52,000

Now let’s plug these values back into the exploitation definition/formula Berri gave us before.  E (UM) = 52K (COA/player)/ 400K (1/2 hoops revenue/player) x 100 %.  Do the math and I come up with Michigan players getting about 13 % of what they generate. Or, to put this another way that makes more sense to me: Michigan netted about $348K in profits off each player on the team in 2012-2013.

Average University of Michigan Profit Per 2012-2013 Player = $348,000

Here I hit a wrinkle that Berri does not account for (and I welcome anybody reading this to correct my efforts to do so). The University told the Department of Education that it cost about $7.5M to operate the men’s basketball program in 2012-13. I don’t have a breakdown of those costs (though I assume scholarships are figured in there and so I’m probably double-counting that expense).  But just for fun, let’s subtract that from revenues.  Doing so ($13.6M-$7.5M) gives us $6.1M in profits. Now let’s split that 50/50 with our players, leaving them $3.05M to split 15 ways.  They’d each get a bit over $200K, which is still 75% more than the school’s own COA figure.  In other words, by the most generous calculation I can come up with, the school made nearly $150,000 off each and every member of the 2012-2013 men’s basketball team.

Adjusted Average University of Michigan Profit Per 2012-2013 Player = $148,000

This gives us the average rate of exploitation.  But, Berri, recognizing that pro franchises don’t pay all players the same amount but rather pay them to win games, applies a further calculation to factor in an approximation of each player’s contribution to the team’s wins. He takes the total revenues divided by the team’s wins to get at the value of a win, and then multiplies these by each player’s “win share” (or contribution to total wins, calculated through this complex formula, but also available here) to get at what he consider to be a more realistic and so equitable estimate of each player’s share of the revenues based on their actual productivity on the court.

[Caveat: I’m not really on board, philosophically with the individualistic, laissez-fair economic principles driving these calculations so you shouldn’t take this to mean that I argue that these numbers alone should dictate solutions to the problem of college athlete exploitation. But I think these numbers should be the starting point, after which we need to factor in other things that have value, even though that value isn’t reflected by an unrestricted market.]

Let’s go back to the five students I started with, who also happen to be the five players on the 2012-13 roster who led the team in win shares: Trey, Glenn, Nik, Tim, and Mitch.  And don’t forget, if I were using Berri’s values, which do not subtract expenses from revenues, these figures would all be about twice as high. Here’s how that turns out:

Screenshot 2016-01-19 12.49.03

That’s annually.  In other words, when productivity is taken into account using win shares, we find that the University of Michigan made $1.3M off its $52,000 investment in Trey Burke.

Now, for each of Michigan’s 31 wins during that season, the numbers look like this:

Screenshot 2016-01-19 13.44.14

Okay, now, let me also go back to my other starting point:  March Madness, where Michigan got five of their 31 wins before losing to Louisville in the title game.  How much did my students contribute to those wins? How much revenue did those five wins generate? How much did the UM pay for the players’ services in those five games? And how much profit did UM make off each of those players?  To be really precise, I’d have to calculate the WinShares for each player for the five March Madness victories and I don’t have time.  But to give an estimate, we just have to multiply the per win figures above by 5 (the number of March Madness wins).

Screenshot 2016-01-19 13.55.29

Lastly, I want to relate all this to minutes.  Basically, I want to know how much the UM made per minute that each of my students was on the floor during March Madness. So I’m going to take the total UM profit for each player for March Madness (the right hand column above) and divide it by each player’s total minutes.

Screenshot 2016-01-19 14.01.37

So that’s the bottom line for me. The University of Michigan reaped just under $1,000.00 off of every minute of Trey Burke’s performance during the 2013 NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament.

I want to say that I recognize I am neither an economist nor a statistician, and that both are real scholarly disciplines that people take years to master, just as I spent years mastering the skills involved in cultural interpretation.  So perhaps I have something wrong here. If so I welcome corrections.  I have not intended to mislead, but simply to find my way through a thicket of ideologies and numbers to get a sense of what the school I work for is doing in its contractual relationship with the students whose educational well-being and, in some sense, overall growth, I am entrusted to protect.

Lastly, a word on the term “adventure” in my title. I take it from Ian Hacking’s remarkable book The Emergence of Probability, in which, at the point in question, he describes four different kinds of “experiment” in early modern Europe.  One of these is “the adventure,” which he describes as follows and in the spirit of which I have conducted my own little experiment:

Screenshot 2016-01-19 15.20.57