Recently, for the first time in several years, I watched a football game. I felt a little guilty since I wasn’t really rooting for either team to win, I just wanted one of them to lose. I lessened my remorse by remembering I would have been a lot happier if both of them could have lost. Small consolation, but any port in a storm, right?
It isn’t that I don’t like the teams, or the fans. I’m pretty indifferent to the whole thing, in fact the machine has yet to be invented that could measure my apathy when it comes to sports. Karl Marx was quoted as saying “religion is the opiate of the masses.” Marx could never imagine the appeal of competitive sports. It has consumed the country in much the same way a snake swallows a rat, whole.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving is called Rivalry Weekend. Christendom would love to be able to rally the faithful in such a ribald and throaty display of devotion. In one game that cold, bleak, snowy Saturday, the Michigan Wolverines played the Ohio State Buckeyes, a game that has a long, angry history. People from Ohio and Michigan call it the greatest rivalry of all time, and they might have a case, except for the fact that Michigan has only won four games in the “rivalry” in the 22nd century. They didn’t play last year, so the record for the last twenty years is 16 and 4. Nothing too exciting.
Since Ohio State was the clear favorite, even though they lost this year, it seems wise to look at their coaches; or more accurately, their coaches pay.
Ryan Day, the head coach, is paid somewhere between 5.65, which is what he made in 2020 and 7.6 million, which is what he is scheduled to make in 2022. His assistant coaches are reported make 7.63 million this year. Using Coach Day’s salary from last year, which is probably a little low, that means they are paying their coaches $13,280,000.00 this year.
With the loss to Michigan, the Buckeyes will not play in the Big Ten championship game. Further, they will not be ranked high enough to play in the College Football Playoff, but will be forced to accept an invitation to play in a “normal” bowl game, leaving them at thirteen games this season. If we average out the salary over the 13 games, that means the university is paying $1,021,538.46 in coaching fees every game.
Of course, I realize they have to work on days that aren’t Saturday, but no matter how you look at it that’s a lot of money. Of course, this is just base pay and doesn’t reflect the myriad bonuses and sundry perks that are included but not widely discussed, or reported. I’m sure if I cared enough I could find it, but I don’t, so I won’t.
Ohio State is among the nation’s elite college football teams and pays accordingly, but they aren’t alone in doling out obscene wealth to coaches. I only chose them because they played yesterday and I live in the general area. Almost any team would do: they are locked in an arms race, wrestling over winning coaches, and capable, worthy assistants. Pity the fool who suggests they could hire competent people for a fraction of what they are paying. That would almost be a form of unilateral, competitive disarmament. They used to burn people at the stake for less than that.
If you wanted to attend the Michigan vs Ohio State game in person the ticket would cost, on average, $377.00. Parking at all lots are open to the public and cost $20.00. Concessions are $4.00 for a hot dog and $8.00 for a personal pizza, domestic beer and a souvenir soft drink cup are both $8.00. Hats are $30.00 and a game jersey, you can customize will cost $120.00. If you want to go, have a bite to eat and something to drink you’re going to need to make as much as one of the coaches.
I’ve heard the platitudes and myths, all the golden lies we use to explain our fascination with athletics. Our willingness to waste so much money on something so inconsequential. “Sports don’t build character, they reveal it.” For the right price, I suppose. You can reveal a lot of character for millions of dollars.
So, I watched the game, and then felt guilty, because I didn’t really care. And then felt guilty because I was, briefly, part of the problem.
—
This post is republished on Medium.
—
Photo credit: Shutterstock
