By Jordan Kobritz, JD, CPA
It’s de rigueur for every kid’s playbook. If you can’t get what you want from one parent, say an extra cookie or a curfew extension, you ask the other one. Alex Collins is a big kid, but he’s still a typical kid. When he couldn’t get what he wanted from his mother, he turned to his father.
Collins is a 5-foot-11, 200-pound running back from Plantation, Florida, near Fort Lauderdale. He is what colleges refer to as a five-star recruit, one of the most highly sought after high school football players in the country. Collins initially committed to play at the University of Miami, but then had second thoughts, in part, he says, because of the ongoing NCAA investigation of the Hurricanes’ football program. So last fall he reopened the recruitment process to other schools, including Arkansas, Florida, Florida State and Wisconsin.
On February 6, which was National Signing Day for college football, perhaps the most important day on the calendar for every Division I institution in the land, Collins called a press conference to announce that Arkansas had won his heart.
A recruit indicates his intention to attend a particular institution by signing two documents, the NCAA’s National Letter of Intent (NLI), and a scholarship offer from a specific institution. According to the NCAA website, “If you are under the age of 21, regardless of marital status, your parent or legal guardian must sign the NLI in order for it to be considered valid.” That’s where the fun, or perhaps the absurdity, began. Collins needed the signature of one of his parents. No problem. His mother, Andrea McDonald, was also in attendance at the February 6 news conference.
It should have come as no surprise to Collins that McDonald was not enthralled with her son’s choice of schools. She wanted Collins to sign with Miami, just down the road from her home. If Collins became a Hurricane, McDonald could attend every home game and watch her son play. With cameras whirling, Collins made the announcement he was headed to Fayetteville, AR. At that instant, McDonald grabbed the signing documents and fled the scene, leaving Collins — and Arkansas — in limbo.
Fortunately for Collins, he has two parents. He immediately called his father, Johnny Collins, who, although he was not part of the initial signing ceremony, was more than happy to accommodate his son’s request to sign the legal documents. At a hastily called press conference the day after the aborted version, Collins became a Razorback.
However, McDonald wasn’t done. Forty-five minutes before the second press conference began, the Cochran law firm — yes, of O.J. Simpson fame — announced that they had been engaged by McDonald “to represent the family’s interests,” legalese which basically means their client is an unhappy mom. McDonald’s ire notwithstanding, there is little the law firm can do, other than garner some free publicity and rack up a few billable hours. While the NLI can be invalidated — more on that later — Collins signed his scholarship offer from Arkansas, which binds him to the school. Goodbye, Miami.
The NLI has often been criticized for being a one-way street — the players are bound to a school but the coaches aren’t. In fact, the NLI contains specific language to that effect. It reads: “I understand I have signed the NLI with the institution and not for a particular sport or coach. If a coach leaves the institution or the sports program (e.g., not retained, resigns), I remain bound by the provisions of this NLI.” While the NCAA pretends that players attend an institution to obtain an education, the reality is players commit to a specific school because of a coach, particularly one whose coaching style is best suited to that player’s talents.
Technically, signing the NLI is completely voluntary. Even the NCAA agrees that recruits are not required to sign the letter prior to admission to a school. Tell that to starry-eyed teenagers and their grateful parents — don’t forget, there’s a “free” education involved. Therefore, players are unlikely to exercise the little leverage they have.
Now, about that scholarship. At most institutions, scholarships are granted for one year at a time, even though the NCAA voted last year to authorize four-year scholarships.
That means schools can decline to renew a scholarship for any reason, including performance — or lack thereof — on the field of play or the desire to grant a scholarship to a more highly rated recruit. Yet student-athletes are committed for four years.
If players want to transfer, they must receive permission from their coach, which means coaches continue to “control” where their players go even if they no longer want them. A player who fails to obtain his coach’s permission to transfer must sit out a year and sacrifice a year of eligibility. Language to that effect is also included in the NLI.
The NLI is a contract of adhesion – no negotiation allowed. Players and their parents sign it on a take it or leave it basis. In 2008, when University of Memphis basketball recruits Xavier Henry and Nolan Dennis signed their NLI, the school in turn gave each player a letter indicating they would automatically be released from their commitment to Memphis if then-coach John Calipari left for another school. A year later, the NCAA amended the NLI to prohibit any side agreements to “release the prospect in case of a coaching change or other circumstances.” (emphasis added). So much for fairness.
When an institution denies a transfer request, the student—athlete can seek relief through an appeal process that is weighted against him. The NCAA has a Policy and Review Committee that “has been authorized to issue interpretations, settle disputes and consider petitions for complete release from the provisions of the NLI when extenuating circumstances are determined to exist…” While the Committee’s decision may be appealed to the NLI Appeals Committee, their decision is “final and binding.” In other words, no independent outside party is involved in the process.
What we have with the NLI is the equivalent of the ham and egg breakfast: The pig (player) is “committed” while the chicken (coach) is merely “invested.”
As the strange case of Alex Collins suggests, perhaps the system isn’t always as one-sided as it appears. After all, with the help of his father, Collins stiffed Miami even after giving the Hurricanes his word. And even though his mother said no, Collins turned to his father and received the answer he was looking for. It’s the oldest play in a kid’s playbook.
Jordan Kobritz is a former attorney, CPA, and Minor League Baseball team owner. He is currently a Professor and Chair of the Sport Management Department at SUNY Cortland. He can be reached at jkobritz@mindspring.com.
