College football has changed dramatically in five years. The transfer portal and NIL have given players freedom, leverage, and money they should have had long ago. They have also turned roster building into free agency, speed dating, and an auction where somebody is always waving a larger paddle.
The Power (and Magic) of Second Chances
The portal’s greatest benefit is simple: talented players no longer have to spend their careers buried behind other talented players. Joe Burrow could not win Ohio State’s starting job, transferred to LSU, won the Heisman Trophy, captured a national championship, and became the No. 1 overall draft pick. The portal provides a second chance, a better scheme fit, and crucial playing time.
Indiana provided an even more dramatic transformation. Before Curt Cignetti arrived, the Hoosiers were college football’s historic doormat. Two seasons later, they were 16–0 national champions. Cignetti brought thirteen players from James Madison, retained seven core veterans through the championship run, and built around overlooked transfers rather than bidding on five-star recruits.
Sixteen of Indiana’s twenty-two regular starters were in at least their fourth college season. Extra eligibility helped create a roster of grown men facing opposing teenagers. They may have entered college as three-stars, but by the championship game, they had lower-back pain and excellent gap discipline.
Cignetti understood the new landscape and leveraged experience, continuity, NIL, and the portal to create a modern blueprint for rebuilding. He didn’t simply hoard high-rated talent; he targeted mature players who fit his system and were ready to win immediately. It was a masterclass in roster construction.
The Unintended Side Effects of Unlimited Free Agency
That represents the portal at its best. At its worst, coaches are forced to recruit high-school prospects, portal targets, and their own current roster every single day. Tampering is strictly prohibited, but it functions like holding: everybody knows it happens, and officials can’t catch all of it.
Jeremiah Smith is a case in point. The Ohio State superstar revealed he was offered upward of $10 million to transfer, with Miami heavily linked to the push. Returning home to South Florida would have been understandable, especially after Miami eliminated Ohio State from playoff contention.
Instead, Smith stayed with a program renowned for developing NFL-ready wideouts. He recognized that college isn’t just preparing him for his rookie deal, but for the life-changing second contract that follows.
Smaller programs face the mirror opposite problem. They identify overlooked talent, invest in development, and offer meaningful snaps—only to watch wealthier programs swoop in with brighter lights and bigger checks. Mid-majors increasingly resemble minor-league affiliates for the SEC and Big Ten. Some players abandon starting roles for a payout, only to realize the stadium lights shine just as brightly on the bench.
Fixing Injustices while Creating New Dilemmas
NIL rectified a long-standing injustice. College football generates billions, and players provide the product while risking their bodies. They deserve to profit off their own names, images, and likenesses.
NIL also empowers smarter career decisions. Previously, an underclassman projected in the 3rd or 4th round was practically forced to declare because professional football was his only payday. Today, a premier athlete can earn comparable money staying in school, sharpening his draft stock, and contending for a ring.
Ohio State’s title push demonstrated that value. Jack Sawyer, J.T. Tuimoloau, Emeka Egbuka, and TreVeyon Henderson all returned for another run. Money wasn’t their only motivation, but NIL made staying financially sensible. Sawyer’s 83-yard strip-sack touchdown against Texas and Tuimoloau’s relentless postseason rush proved the concept: reward established veterans, maintain roster continuity, and foster elite development.
The danger arises when millions are handed to an eighteen-year-old without proper financial literacy, tax planning, or grounded advisors. Money doesn’t create poor judgment, but it certainly gives poor judgment a larger expense account.
The numbers are staggering. Estimated 2026 roster market values put Texas at $47.9 millionpn, Miami at $44 million, Ohio State at $43.5 million, LSU and Oregon at $42.8 million, and Notre Dame at $40.4 million.
On an individual level, Miami quarterback Darian Mensah tops valuations at $6.5 million, followed by Oregon’s Dante Moore, Ohio State’s Jeremiah Smith, and Ole Miss’s Trinidad Chambliss at $5 million, with LSU’s Sam Leavitt at $4.5 million.
The Shadow of Sports Gambling
Then there is gambling. Sports leagues once treated sportsbooks like an uninvited wedding guest. Now, betting commercials run back-to-back during every broadcast, and a sportsbook lives inside every player’s phone.
An NCAA survey revealed that 58% of 18-to-22-year-olds have wagered on sports, climbing to 67% among campus residents. Former Indiana quarterback Brendan Sorsby admitted to placing over $90,000 in bets—including wagers involving Indiana football while on the roster—placing his career and future in serious legal and athletic jeopardy.
He isn’t an isolated case; he’s simply one of the most visible.
The Path Forward
College football doesn’t need to scrap NIL or ban the portal. It needs standard guardrails: enforceable anti-tampering penalties, strict transfer windows, transparent contracts, mandatory financial and gambling literacy, and a national competitive-balance tax or roster ceiling.
Players deserve mobility and fair compensation. Fans deserve a game where player development, coaching strategy, and loyalty still matter.
College football has evolved, and much of that change was necessary. The question remains whether the leaders running the sport can establish structure before it becomes an uncapped professional league—where chemistry class is squeezed between contract negotiations.
