Revenue-producing college sports have evolved to the point where they operate by a different set of rules. So when a coach confronts a student and does so in the most public of ways—in a way that wouldn’t be tolerated elsewhere in higher ed—why should anybody be surprised?
Last Thursday night, sports viewers got a different angle on ‘March Madness.’ For about thirty seconds, America saw college basketball in a way that it’s rarely seen.
During a time out in the NCAA basketball tournament, Tom Izzo, head coach of the Michigan State Spartans, started yelling at one of his players, Aaron Henry. Izzo continued yelling and, then, lurched at Henry—restrained quickly by one of his players as cameras rolled.
From my nearly forty years of higher education experience, I can guarantee you that swift and meaningful action would have been taken if a professor or staff member had engaged in that kind of behavior with an undergraduate student. Except that’s not the way it often works—when it comes to sports, that is.
That type of behavior isn’t just tolerated, it’s often exalted—labeled as ‘good coaching,’ ‘the way to win’ and ‘what makes coaches (like Izzo) special and great.”
Izzo labeled criticism as “ridiculous,” and many who cover sports said the very same thing. On CBS, Charles Barkley called Izzo’s critics “jackasses.” ESPN’s Scott Van Pelt argued that society needs firm leadership. “The world’s a scoreboard,” Van Pelt said, drawing a parallel between competing in sports and competing in life. Besides, he continued, “stop being offended by things that don’t concern you.”
Many fans concurred, calling out contrarians on social media with references like ‘soft’ and ‘snowflakes.’
I get that. I just don’t buy it. You don’t need to act that way–or be treated that way–to be successful in life. Besides, Mr. Van Pelt, it does concern me.
We need sports to be governed by societal norms—not the other way around. And to make things worse, the gap between social and sports norms is growing—especially in revenue-producing college sports. It’s getting to the point where I no longer see a connection between revenue-producing college sports and the mission of higher education.
Here are two examples. Where else will you find coaches (executives) making big salaries when players (the workers) get none? Where else will you find the dominance of Caucasians in management positions (AD and coaching positions) when the majority of workers (players) are African American? Answer: Nowhere else–unless in a plantation system. And major major college football and basketball have become just that–a neo-plantation system.
Do this experiment. Watch any five major college basketball games. Count the number of white head coaches and, then, count the number of white basketball players on the floor at any one time. Add up the numbers and calculate a percentage for each group. I did this experiment. On average, about 20% of the players on the floor and 80% of the head coaches on the sidelines were white. Is the outcome happenstance? Hardly. According to the most recent data (2018) reported by The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sports at the University of Central Florida, African Americans held fewer than 8% of the basketball head coaching positions at Division I colleges and universities. The number is even lower for schools in Division II and III (around 5%).
The underlying problem is that we permit revenue-producing sports to operate by a different set of rules. So when a coach confronts a player and does so in the most public of ways—and in a way that wouldn’t be tolerated elsewhere—why should anybody be surprised? The sad reality is many were not. They called it a ‘non-story.’
That’s how bad things have become. But thousands upon thousands of people defend it, explain it away, or look the other way. It’s an example of normal conventions of life getting turned upside down.
A number of years ago I consulted a psychologist about a knotty problem I was having in the workplace. I’ll never forget what he said.
When dysfunctionality becomes normalized, it becomes business as usual. Dysfunctionality then becomes functional, and what used to be functional gets tossed out the window, viewed as operationally irrelevant.
What happened last Thursday night isn’t a story about Tom Izzo. It’s about us—a sports-mad society—and how we’ve permitted a dysfunctional sports culture to evolve. And, folks, it’s all for our entertainment and ‘pride.’
That’s madness, people. And we own it.
