The inner workings of the NFL lockout, as demonstrated daily

To casual fans, it's one of the oddest concepts in the already-odd world of professional sports.

Pro athletes -- often paid millions annually to play a sport for a living -- threatening to go on strike and cancel sporting events across the United States? Really?

Well, yes and no.

Yes, they are typically paid millions, annually. Yes, sporting events are in danger of being cancelled. But no, it's not actually the players threatening to go on strike -- it's the owners, hence the term 'lockout,' not 'strike.'

So, yes, in the current situation in the news, NFL owners are threatening to, in many more words, lock the players out of their facilities and cease normal functioning as an NFL franchise in order to coerce the players' association into agreeing to a more favorable collective bargaining agreement that will allow them to profit more handsomely as the national economy continues to struggle and several owners fight to stay in the black.

Recent developments have made the likelihood that will happen a lot smaller. A U.S. District Court judge in Minnesota ruled Monday, on the side of the players, that the lockout was unlawful and ordered it ended, meaning that, as of right now, there is no lockout in the National Football League.

There's an issue, though. The NFL owners immediately appealed the ruling and also requested a special expedited stay, meaning that they want the enforcement of the ruling to wait until the appeal is heard. When a ruling is made on the stay request, we'll know whether or not the lockout will continue to not exist, but that could still change when the second ruling -- on the appeal -- takes place.

Confusing, right? Imagine if you're a NFL player waiting to get back into shape for the upcoming season. Even more confusing.

The NFL Players' Association emailed all of its members late Monday night, after the judge's initial decision was announced, letting them know they could report to their places of work Tuesday morning. A few did for each team across the country, with all but one player -- New York Giants defensive being turned away by management from the weight room and some not even being allowed in to the facilities. In other words, it sounds a lot like the lockout still exists to the owners.

On inside the fold, I typically try to take in-the-news issues and go over the media aspects covered within them. With this lockout ordeal, there are tons, but the most interesting is following along to which side the media takes as the lockout -- or what we know of it -- continues. Today, when NFL players tried to report to their team facilities, reporters all across the country staked them out and wrote stories on which players tried to report and the outcomes of those attempts. The resulting stories were decidedly player-favored, even in news stories, with owners and team staffers coming off as demanding and players coming off as simply inquisitive.

It's something we often forget as a general public -- the media, especially in sports, plays a large role in how stories are shaped over time. We mustn't forget it'll be the same this time as well.

Kobe and his mouth

You've probably heard about it by now: midway through the third quarter of a Tuesday game between the Los Angeles Lakers and the San Antonio Spurs, the Lakers' Kobe Bryant was called for his fourth foul of the game on what he felt was a bad call by referee Bennie Adams, so he took action.

As Bryant sat down on the bench, he threw down his towel violently, picked it up and then shouted at Adams in a voice loud enough the TNT boom mic picked it up and simultaneously broadcast it live around the country.

"BENNIE!" Bryant yelled. "F**CKING F**GOT!"

Within seconds, Twitter and other social networking sites were ablast with fans and media members writing about the incident, and by Wednesday morning, it had blown up to an astonishing extent. Gay publications were responsible for a lot of the coverage, but they were only the spark -- every news source was on it by noon Wednesday.

Bryant eventually issued an apology -- but really didn't apologize, actually, being that he didn't say sorry at all and really only said that he didn't meant for his words to be taken literally.

And then the NBA fought back, commissioner David Stern announcing that the league would fine Bryant a cool $100,000. Sure, it's not a lot of money when a guy makes upwards of $20 million a year, like Bryant does, but it's significant in that the average NBA fine ranges from $5-10 thousand dollars.

Because of that, Stern showed that he placed the issue high up the spectrum of importance, and his stand was important for the NBA to take as they near an offseason of uncertainty with the impending lockout.

But what's most interesting about this whole story is this: Should Kobe actually be faulted and deemed homophobic for what he said? After all, most Americans have used a word -- or something akin to it -- in a very similar fashion as he did at some point in their lives. There's no arguing whether what he did is right or wrong -- it's clearly wrong -- but can we really say that he's a bad example of a role model as an athlete because of his use of that gay slur.

In my eyes, no. It'd be more than a little bit unfair for me to call him out for saying a word like that when I've done the same thing in my past. (Not that it makes it right. It's completely wrong. But I've still done it.) The only thing he did wrong was that he did in a public sphere. And, yes, of course there is something to be said about that, but I'm not going to crazy on him or anything.

The $100,000 fine is a good way to solve it. Bryant has been publicly reprimanded, and hopefully he and other pro athletes learn that that word should never be used, let alone in a derogatory way at a referee simply doing his job.

Hopefully the rest of us do too.

Occupation: Human waste disposal

Officer Trey Economidy of the Albuquerque Police Department learned a lesson about the negative effects of social media the hard way a couple months back, like many Americans have in recent years.

His learning process went like this: Economidy, a seven-year veteran of the police force working in Albuquerque's gang unit, pulled over a man in the parking lot of a strip mall for suspicious behavior. The man, 29-year-old Jacob Mitschelen, who had an extensive criminal record at the time of the incident, attempted to escape on foot after being pulled over.  Economidy did chase. A gun fell off of Mitschelen's person shortly after he began running and he immediately picked it up. The officer, Economidy, demanded he drop it. When he didn't, Economidy fired his gun at Mitschelen multiple times and fatally wounded him.

At that point, it was still a fairly standard incident, although the fact that someone died in the pull-over caused local news outlets in Albuquerque to research the circumstances. What they found caused a scandal of medium-sized proportions, got Economidy suspended and now has him outside the field and inside the police station at a desk job for the foreseeable future.

What was it? Well, for starters, Economidy's Facebook page was public at the time of the incident. So when a local TV station went to it, they were able to scan through his employment data, religious beliefs and similar self-provided personal information. Under occupation, Economidy listed his job as "human waste disposal." The TV station relayed the findings to the police station; Economidy was suspended the next day.

His page is now private, and he has since apologized for his actions, calling them "extremely appropriate." The New York Times picked up on the incident this week and ran a story Wednesday on its website -- it's slated for front-page publication in Thursday's paper -- taking a all-around look at the many problems social media has caused for police across the U.S., from Economidy's incident to an Indiana cop who posted a picture of another officer pointing a gun at his head to even an officer who filmed himself stripping off his uniform and masturbating and then sold the video on eBay's adults-only section. All three of these incidents were exposed by media investigations, the Times reported.

What's my take on all this? Well, I particularly liked the angle the Times took on the stories and thought it shrewd of them to group all of these incidents in one deep-digging piece this week. The article served two purposes: (1) it essentially concluded, or induced readers to conclude, that the media was rightfully responsible for exposing these stories to the general public in a necessary manner and (2) it gave readers detailed information for their own personal security purposes online, regardless of profession.

Both of those are great in my book.

Obama to announce re-election campaign -- now?

CNN reported Saturday that Democratic sources indicated President Barack Obama intends to send supporters a text or email message as early as Monday announcing he intends to run for re-election in the November 2012 presidential election.

That's a little early, no? It seems to me as if Obama would be better off waiting a while to do such an announcement, simply because of, well...the state of the country, you know? Obama's US of A isn't exactly in great shape at the moment, and people are starting to blame him for it.

Hey, at least they're not going to make a whole big shebang out of it. Obama's plan, CNN reported, is simply to get the word out there among his big-time supporters so he can officially start raising the money he'll need to contend against whichever Republican candidate comes out of the woodwork to run against him next year.

I still don't agree with it.

Reads the article:

"These Democrats say no public event is planned because the White House wants to downplay the announcement and minimize the political distraction...The president is making his campaign official slightly earlier than is typical for an incumbent so he can get a jump on fund-raising in a season that's likely to shatter all records."

The campaign fundraising season's likely to shatter all records, again? It really is ridiculous how much these costs are trending upwards in recent decades, but that's a blog post for a different day.

And today's blog post? Here it is in summation: it can't be good for Obama, from a PR standpoint, to announce his re-election campaign at this point during his current term. His approval ratings are frighteningly low and on a downward trend right now, too.

Instead of announcing it now, why not announce it in another month or two, giving him some time to do some good in the eyes of American public and repair his image even the slightest bit. There is no downside to that plan. Every informed American knows he's going to run for re-election, so it's not as if he's going to be late to the party if he announces in June. All he'll lose is a couple months of fundraising while he'll gain -- hopefully, of course -- a bunch of possible supporters in on-the-fence voters over the next month or two.

And this is simply in his best interest, disregarding any particular political views I may have. Say what you will about Obama, but one thing he and his camp have always been good -- no, spectacular, at -- is crafting a great public-relations image in the campaign season.

This seems to be at least a slight departure from that, but I guess time will tell which one of us is right.

Now, we care -- the freed New York Times journalists

Last Tuesday, four New York Times journalists were captured while on assignment covering the Gaddhafi uprisings in Ajdabiya, Libya. The four -- photographers Tyler Hicks and Lynsey Addario, reporter/videographer Stephen Farrell and Beirut bureau chief Anthony Shadid -- spent six days in captivity in the Northern African nation before they were officially driven to Tunisia and released Monday.

Turkey and its African ambassadors played a large role in the reporters' release, the Times announced in a Monday email release from the newspaper's executive editor, Bill Keller. So what does this stuff all mean?

Well, firstly, there are some incredibly interesting stories involved in this when you dig in deep. Secondly, it demonstrates just how much risk newspaper reporters take on in their jobs, often contrary to popular belief. And, thirdly and most importantly, this whole debacle created the biggest American connection to what's going on in Libya to date, and that's a positive development. 

Let's start with No. 1: Farrell, a longtime Times reporter and one of the most respected war journalists in the business, has now been captured three different times on the job. This wasn't his first time at the rodeo. In September 2009, he was kidnapped by the Taliban in Northern Afghanistan and eventually rescued by a British army raid. He chronicled those events in a potent blog entry on the Times' website shortly after the incident. In April 2004, he was kidnapped during the First Battle of Fallujah in Iraq and released less than a day later.

Don't be surprised to see a similar account from Farrell in the coming days as the smoke clears from the incident and we find out more details.

About the risk -- obviously nobody thinks that war reporting is a risk-free job, but it's still not given anywhere close to the credit it deserves in terms of the inherent overall danger involved. One big reason it's particularly perilous is because of one key factor of war reporting that almost always holds true: the reporters are usually there illegally, unable to receive visas from the countries in which the wars are taking place. So if any foreign officials see reporters in these foreign countries -- and they typically stick out like sore thumbs -- they are liable to have them kidnapped and take them under captivity. And this is to say nothing of the involvement with the actual war, complete with guns, bombs and everything else you'd expect in combat. It's really, really risky stuff, and war reporters endure through it to provide necessary reports from the battlefields to the general public.

And, about Americans learning about the Libyan protests, it's really much-needed. The uprising began about a month before the reporters were kidnapped, yet, aside from the small newspaper-reading portion of society and certain others with particular connections to the African country, it went largely unnoticed. Then we Americans started to notice, started to pay attention, started to look East, when we first heard about the journalists being kidnapped.

That opened our collective eyes to many of the monstrosities occurring in Libya. The death toll, while unavailable in an official form, is at the very least in the thousands -- and crimes against humanity are much higher. Even now, with their government in shambles, Gaddafi still claiming to hold control and the U.S. getting involved to set up a no-fly zone, our collective knowledge of and familiarity with the story is far from what it needs to be. But at least we have some -- some, I stress -- grasp of it, especially as it continues to move forward and the stakes get raised.

That's often what we do when Americans are involved in something, and partly rightfully so. Now, that's an argument for a different day -- whether U.S. citizens are under-involved in foreign affairs as compared to residents of other countries -- but our involvement in this story is worthwhile.

Now, let's wait to see what Farrell and the rest of the Times reporters have to say about the whole ordeal.

OK, so I'm not the most politically correct person, but...

That's how the most viral video of the last week began, a three-minute rant on Asians by a UCLA student who has since withdrawn from the university amid death threats and worldwide ridicule of her video, originally posted on YouTube last Friday.

The self-identified UCLA student who posted the video, Alexandra Wallace, quickly removed from the video from the interwebs, but no matter -- the damage had already been done. Hundreds of astute YouTube users had managed to save the video in the hours between its original posting and its removal. By the end of the weekend, responses of all kinds were being posted as well, from offended Asians speaking out to parties not involved whatsoever simply amazed at the content of the video.

So what exactly did it say? Well, after Wallace began her video by admitting that she was in fact not the most politically correct person in the world, she proceeded to utter all sorts of ultra-racist comments against Asian students at UCLA, who she said ruined her studying experience at the library by talking when they were supposed to be studying and calling relatives at home in Japan to check in after the earthquake and tsunami that rattled the Asian nation last week.

There were some 'cool' Asians at UCLA, Wallace said, and she was in fact friends with those cool Asians on campus. But the rest of them were useless, she implied, and harmful to the rest of the general student body.

It's an alarming video, one that seriously draws into question any prior beliefs of school unity at universities like UCLA and one that draws into question racial beliefs of younger people at large as well. But the part we'd like to focus on here on Inside the fold is the official response to the video.

UCLA announced Thursday that, despite their complete disapproval of the video and what it represents, Wallace would not be suspended or in any way punished by the university because her posting of the video does not officially break any school-wide rules or its code of conduct.

Wallace withdrew from the university anyway, announcing Friday via a statement in the school newspaper, The Daily Bruin, that the stress of attending UCLA had grown too large over the last several days as a result of the video. She admitted again that the video was a mistake and apologized for its contents.

So what does this all tell us? Above all, it's a great thing -- it shows us that the public has great power, greater power than we even realize sometimes. Despite the inability of UCLA to react because of bureaucratic specifications, we as a general public essentially did the same thing UCLA would have if they could have.

We expelled Alexandra Wallace, really. The death threats to her family were out of line, surely, but the endless ridicule of her for the video was -- and is, as it continues -- is completely in line. And with so much of that, she was forced to withdraw from the public eye and withdraw from the university, as she should have for publishing a video with such horrible, objectionable content.

We go, public -- there we go, getting stuff done.

New NCAA president takes hard-line stance on age-old question

Listen to the man, because this is as tough-sounding as he's going to get.

"They are student-athletes," says the man, simultaneously straining his voice and attempting to turn his lips into a scowl-like frown. "They are not our employees, they don't work for us.

"They are our students, so we don't pay them."

Notice the declarations in his words? They are not our employees. They don't work for us. We don't pay them.

Take note, boys and girls. That's exactly how you don't start off a new job -- by alienating the very people who pay your salary and allow for your job to exist.

This man's name? Mark Emmert, the 59-year-old NCAA president in his first year on the job in what is most assuredly a tough time for the vilified organization, and he's not doing himself any favors with his first actions.

His pedigree's pretty good. Emmert worked in higher education for 25 years before taking the NCAA job in April of last year, previously touring the country at places like the University of Colorado, Montana State University and his alma mater, the University of Washington. He took office at the NCAA on November 1.

Now, give him this: the time he took over was perhaps the most difficult time in the history of collegiate athletics, with former president Myles Brand -- who passed away in September 2009 -- leaving a wide-reaching legacy of success but with the NCAA seriously struggling in the one year between Brand's departure and Emmert's appointment.

He had the worst of both worlds, essentially -- big shoes to fill but small shoes in place. Still, Emmert's comments on one of the most pressing issues facing the NCAA as a whole are indefensible, and the fact that they came so quickly after his taking over office is puzzling, too. It's like he's never read a basic book about politics, which generally have one key for aspiring rule-makers and big wigs: stay away from controversial issues for as long as possible.

Mark Emmert definitely didn't do that.

His stance on the issue didn't have to be released so quickly. He could have waited a bit, told the media and the public that he was waiting to evaluate some second-hand issues and gain a full grasp of the situation.

That would've been understandable. But, no: on his first trip to Los Angeles while on the job, Emmert took the mic at a town hall luncheon in Downtown and did his best to sound tough.

He reasoned, too, giving some of the best arguments for not paying student-athletes while skipping past all of the arguments for paying them.

"They get to have experiences that very few students get a chance to enjoy," Emmert said. "If they take full advantage of it, they will have spectacular opportunities in life."

Sure thing, Mark. Do you know what else they get?

A decree to do not anything else. Seriously. Scholarship student-athletes are not allowed to take on a paying job from August to May each year, despite the fact that every other student at every other university in the Unoi has a right to do so if they so desire. What about the hours they have to work each week? There are at least 20 required hours Monday-Friday plus strongly suggested weekend and extra hours, plus even more time spent traveling and actually playing in games during seasons. Ask them -- collegiate athletes who put in less than 40 or 50 hours per week to their specific sport are not making it professionally.

No way, Jose. So to expect them to, in many cases, support fledging families on one $10,000 stipend for an entire school year is simply ridiculous. 

Take a real look at what is often the situation. At least eight of the 80 players on scholarship on the USC football team have a kid and a girlfriend/wife they support. Yet, simply because they desire to play professionally at some point, they often must live in poverty, unable to make any other money.

The likelihood they will make significant money playing professional football is close to nil. The likelihood USC will make significant money from their playing collegiate football is close to certain. Yes, the schools, in many cases, profit handsomely -- think $30 or 40 million a year on football -- from the on-court or on-field performances of their student-athletes.

The actual student-athletes don't.

Yet, because of a host of Draconian, nonsensical rules that governed the NCAA since its inception in 1906, we refuse to pay these kids.

With a new president in place, there was a hope in some circles that the rules would eventually be reversed, that student-athletes would finally be appropriately compensated for all they do.

But, thanks to Mark Emmert and his ridiculous hard-line stance, we know they won't.

Now let's see what kind of support he gets from the general public.

Money and college athletics

The question is simple. The answer is much more complicated. Should college athletes be paid? They do everything that professional athletes do, from the practices to the games to the travel to the interviews to the autograph-signings to being in the public eye. Some would argue they do more, balancing mandatory class attendance and, oftentimes, tutoring sessions to boot. They are, for all intents and purposes, professionals. Their schools make money off of them, after all. The only thing keeping college athletes amateurs is the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) calling them amateurs – and the fact that they don’t get paid for their troubles. Sure, in most cases college athletes do get full athletic scholarships – which range in value from $15 to $50 thousand – but those clearly pale in terms of value to the average salaries professional athletes receive for similar duties. An example: the average NFL salary in 2009, the latest year with figures available, was just a tad under $2 million. Compare that to the average college football scholarship value per year of roughly $35 thousand, and you realize that pros get paid roughly 57 times as much as their college counterparts. So, yes, college athletes should be paid. College athletes, specifically college football and basketball players, should be paid in the same way pro athletes should be paid – because, quite simply, they bring in nearly equal amounts of money, in many cases, for their athletic exploits to schools as professionals do to owners.

It’s important to note here, in the interest of fairness, that the NCAA is a voluntary, private association. Member schools are not technically obligated to be part of the NCAA. It’s also important to note that the NCAA essentially has a monopoly when it comes to big, revenue-producing collegiate athletic governing bodies. Sure, there are other entities like the NAIA that provide similar services to member institutions, but when’s the last time you saw an NAIA school on television – or even heard of an NAIA school, for that matter? It doesn’t happen. Even the small schools that are seen on television at the oddest hours with limited viewers are members of the NCAA’s Division II or III. Schools don’t have another legitimate choice or opportunity besides subscribing to the NCAA and following its sometimes-monopolistic  restrictions. The much-stated mission of the NCAA – “to provide exercise, competition and social benefits through sports” – says nothing about money. So why then is the NCAA allowed to enter or even justified in entering multi-million dollar TV contracts for its member institutions that provide absolutely zero benefit for its athletes.

A frightening example: every major college basketball conference in the United States -- save for one, the Pac-10 – has adjusted its conference schedule over the last decade to accommodate increasingly stringent television guidelines on where and when to play its games so it can be broadcast. The Pac-10, as we said, hasn’t adjusted it, and, thus, the Pac-10 has the fewest games on national television and the fewest games on any television of the six power conferences – including the SEC, Big 12, Big 10, ACC, Pac-10 and Big East. The Pac-10 has a new commissioner in place since 2010, Larry Scott, who is attempting to get his conference on television more. How is he going to do that? Simple: instead of playing only on Thursdays and Saturdays, like the Pac-10 has done since its inception, Scott will make it known that his conference’s teams are willing to play on other days of the week in order to be on television. Never mind that Thursdays and Saturdays are clearly the best options for the student-athletes’ academic and personal lives, as it allows them to miss the least possible amount of class and other commitments. Scott – and the rest of the country’s commissioners too, so you can’t fault him specifically – will have to throw those commitments by the wayside when he negotiates a new television deal. Texas, for example, in the Big 12, regularly plays conference games on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Same for Syracuse. Duke, the class of the Atlantic Coast Conference, has played games on each day of the week this season. No, the student-athletes don’t get any say in which days the games are played on. And, no, the student-athletes don’t get compensated more if the schedule – which, conveniently, results in more money for the NCAA and its schools – inconveniences them in any way. They will just keep toiling along at a wage that, if you calculate out their scholarship funds to how many hours they are required to work as part of the agreement, is quite miniscule.

Other common counter-arguments to the student-athletes-getting-paid way of thinking: We can’t pay just college football players and college basketball players. That would be unfair. If we’re going to pay them, we should pay all college athletes, like lacrosse, water polo and golf athletes. The problem with that argument, as many scholars have graciously pointed out over the years, is that it completely contradicts the post-college career options for the athletes. What? Well, college football and basketball players have many opportunities to make significant money playing their sport professionally after college. College lacrosse players? The number of lacrosse athletes who are able to make a living playing professionally is very small. It’s quite simple: we pay the college-athletes just as they are paid in the professional ranks – based on their money-making capabilities. Another counter: College athletes are already being paid, in terms of scholarship money, much more than the average undergraduate student. Why would we up that figure when undergraduate students all across the United States are going far, far into debt to cover tuition costs while student-athletes. That would be unfair. Actually, no it wouldn’t. For two reasons: (1) because regular undergraduate students are actually allowed to keep up a job while taking classes at a university and student-athletes aren’t, and (2) because student-athletes, again, bring in heap money for a university and undergraduates don’t. And, on that note, it’s important to note that, even at schools like the University of Southern California or Stanford University, while tuition itself runs into the high-$30,000’s alone, giving away free tuition in a scholarship doesn’t cost a school nearly as much as it would seem. In fact, some say the tuition cost of a scholarship is less than $2,000, accounting, essentially, only for the costs one of more seat in a classroom and an extra five or 10 minutes of paper-grading for a professor or teacher’s assistant a few times a semester.

Now, this argument has been going on for a while, and a ton of legitimate sources have spoken up in support over the years. In a 1994 testimony before the House Subcommittee on Commerce, Consumer Protection, and Competitiveness of the Committee on Energy and Commerce, longtime college basketball coach and former college basketball player Dick DeVenzio argued fiercely that college athletes should be paid – at the very least a stipend, he said. “What crucial purpose is being served by keeping athletes penniless?” DeVenzio asked the House. “There is no convincing proof that amateurism is morally superior to professionalism. What negatives would occur if athletes were permitted to receive money from Nike or Chevrolet or any other commercial enterprise – the way coaches can now? What if trust funds, not actual cash, were permitted for athletes? This would obviously benefit athletes and their families tremendously. Why is this not allowed? What terrible thing would happen if athletes were permitted to benefit financially from their special talents and popularity?” Continued DeVenzio just a bit later, after appealing to the Congress about how Martin Luther King Jr. would see no morality in the NCAA rules allowing coaches and others to benefit from the current system but which do not allow athletes to take advantage of any of their economic opportunities: “The NCAA should not be permitted to continue to make rules which deprive athletes of enjoying the economic opportunities that come along with excellence in a popular American sport…The NCAA has shown no willingness nor the ability to make positive reforms on behalf of athletes and their families. The courts have consistently ruled that athletes come under the umbrella or rules or voluntary associations. It is incumbent upon Congress to step in as an advocate on behalf of athletes.”

Wrote C. Peter Goplerud III, the Dean at the Drake University Law School, in the Kansas Journal of Law and Public Policy with a piece entitled Sports Law as a Reflection of Society’s Laws and Values: “Collegiate sports clearly are big business. Television revenues and gate receipts are enormous at most of the top Division I schools; the lesser schools do not receive huge amounts, but it does significantly help run the program at most places. Division I schools reported sports revenues of approximately $1.8 billion for 1995-96. It is clear that it is the athletes who are responsible for filling the stands for Michigan football and Kentucky basketball, but all they may legally receive is room, board, tuition, fees and books.”

Goplerud’s right, and even as all the time has passed since the original publication of the piece, nothing substantial has changed in regards to the student-athletes’ pay. The only difference, of course, it that Division I schools pull in even more money. Goplerud takes his previous points and expands them to another level, arguing that NCAA’s money-focused mentality ruins any semblance of amateurism remaining among the athletics governing body. “For example, the University of Michigan collected approximately $4.9 million in royalties from the sale of licensed products bearing the school’s athletic logos…Much of this money came from the sale of jerseys or other items bearing the numbers of outstanding athletes. The sales occur because of the popularity and prowess of the athlete. The athlete, of course, receives nothing from the sale of his or her jersey in the campus bookstore. It is difficult to be sympathetic to concerns for the loss of amateurism in collegiate sports as a result of consideration for stipends. When a school makes an estimated $4 million in revenues directly traceable to the participation of one basketball player, concerns over the loss of amateurism are difficult to swallow. Intercollegiate athletics revolves around big money. Winning brings more money to programs and, thus, coaches are under pressure to produce. Those who do produce at the Division I level can expect six and seven figure annual incomes. Athletes spend 12 months a year playing, practicing and training for their particular sport.”

Goplerud then provides key examples of college coaches who are in support of stipends for their athletes in the University of Nebraska’s Tom Osborne and the University of Iowa’s Hayden Fry, but the truth is that the majority of polled college coaches do in fact believe their players should be getting paid more than they are currently. The list of coaches in favor of that includes Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski, North Carolina’s Roy Williams and a host more – even though each coach would likely stand to experience a pay cut if it is indeed decided to provide a stipend to collegiate athletes. Then the lawyer brings up the inherent problems in any stipend plan: “However, even many who conceptually support the proposal acknowledge the enormous practical and financial difficulties presented,” Goplerud writes. “The financial impact is such that the proposal probably has no chance for passage.”

My view is as follows, keeping in mind everything that’s already been mentioned about counter and pro arguments: all Division I college football and basketball athletes should be paid a stipend of approximately $300 a month, to help account for growing nationwide expenses, to help compensate for their inability to take on a job while on scholarship for extra cash and to allow the student-athletes to capitalize – at least in a slight bit – on the money they help to produce. The $300, payable out to $3600 a year and not taxable (The NCAA’s tax-free, as always) isn’t much, but it helps to make ends meet for student-athletes. But that’s not it. In an attempt to compensate more elite collegiate athletes worthy of extra payment, I am in favor of instituting a trust fund that student-athletes can apply for upon receiving their undergraduate degree, creating a legitimate incentive to stay in school and also providing a sort of entrepreneurial start-up capability after maybe a shorter-than-planned NBA or NFL career. As DeVenzio told Congress in 1994: “Trust funds linked to education achievement would obviously encourage more athletes to get diplomas; and there are no known negatives.” Where will this trust fund and stipend money come from? A good portion of it can come straight from the institutions that have profited millions and millions of dollars over the years from their collegiate football and basketball programs. Much of the rest of it can come from a reduced coach’s salary. For example, Alabama’s Nick Saban make upwards of $3 million a year. He has 80 scholarship players on his roster for the Crimson Tide. In order to provide every single one of his 80 players a $300 monthly stipend for an entire year, Saban would have to give up less than 10 percent of his yearly salary, approximately $288,000. It’s not hard to find potential sources for these funds to adequately compensate these student-athletes.

With all that said, it’s important to note before concluding that all student-athletes do currently receive a monthly stipend that covers some incidental costs like food and school supplies. Rent is paid for under the terms of the scholarship, but the money to given to athletes – at USC, for example, it’s a tad over $600 – doesn’t come close to cutting it. Many student-athletes are forced to rely on contributions from their parents or loans in order to meet all costs during college – and, worse still, a number of players who have illegally taken money from an agent over the years have admitted that an immediate lack of funds was the single biggest cause they knowing chose to break the rules. Heck, even the late former NCAA president Myles Brand admitted in 2003, six years before his passing, that it makes perfect sense to up the money student-athletes get in the form of a stipend and a couple hundred per month to the low figure, obviously understanding the incredible potential paying our collegiate athletes has in terms of saving college sports in the long-term and keeping the NFL ultra-profitable with no developmental league to speak of that requires funding, check-ins and other costs. The only potential problems to the stipends, in my eyes and the eyes of many others on the job, are directed at money sources for the stipend. Assuming that question’s been adequately answered, there’s really not much else left to say on the topic. Premier college basketball and football student-athletes deserve to be paid.

The Serene Branson story

Midway through the Sunday 11 p.m. news on CBS2 in the Los Angeles area, anchor Paul Magers tossed to reporter Serene Branson live for a Grammy's post-mortem just outside the Staples Center in Downtown Los Angeles.

Chaos ensued.

Branson, a fairly experienced reporter with big-time credentials in entertainment reporting, began her live report with a few normal words: "Well, a very, very, heavy," and then several abormal words, including several gibberish-esque sounds that resembled  "burtation" and "darison."

As one might predict in today's immediate world, the video promptly blew up. By 1 a.m. Monday morning -- roughly 87 minutes after Branson had committed the flub of all flubs -- her name was a nationwide trending topic on Twitter. By 2, a CBS spokesperson released a statement saying she was not hospitalized and was in fact fine. By the next morning, rumors had started and spread that Branson had suffered a stroke live on television. By the afternoon, the video was all over YouTube, Vimeo and just about every video-content website on the internet.

CBS soon pulled most every video depicting the incident off YouTube -- some still remain, though, even now, and released an official statement Thursday saying that Branson had been suffering from a severe migraine at the time of the broadcast and attributing the on-air flub to said migraine.

She now reportedly expects to be back on air shortly, so everything will soon go back to normal, surely, and everyone will get on with their lives, surely.

Right?

Nope. Only one thing's sure in this case: Branson -- despite CBS' commendable best efforts to get all of the videos off the internet -- will never be able to escape this incident, as long as she lives. It'll appear on those best news bloopers lists for decades to come and will probably lead to the word 'burtation' making its way into the common vernacular.

The question is: Is there anything wrong with that?

Honestly, not really. The majority of YouTube commenters and members of the general public who kept up with the story treated it appropriately, without too much of a negative reaction toward Branson herself and with more of a positive approach to a truly funny incident than anything else. So, no, there's nothing wrong with Branson's epic mistake being dramatized and laughed about all over the world. That's essentially what you sign yourself up for when you agree to become a broadcast journalist, and you are compensated adequately for that public privilege.

It sounds weird to say, without a doubt. And there will always be those writers and bloggers and cousins who do their best to pontificate on how Branson's rights have been violated, but, in actuality, everybody has every right to have fun at Branson's expense -- as long as it's done in a somewhat respectful manner.

Now, let's see how she does on her first report back.

Mark Sanchez and a 17-year-old girl

This Tuesday, the popular sports website Deadspin.com published a long-awaited investigation piece that centered around the sex life of New York Jets quarterback Mark Sanchez.

In it, Deadspin alleged that Sanchez had knowingly -- and legally in the state of New Jersey, where he resided -- entered into a sexual relationsip with a 17-year-old girl, one Elizabeth Kruger. The context of how Deadspin came to know the story of Kruger is a complicated one, but the website explained it in full detail in advance of the story's release -- as is its commonly-followed protocol when releasing site investigations.

Kruger, somewhat smitten with Sanchez yet obviously aware of the potential impact of her experience, emailed Deadspin in an attempt at a preventive measure, telling the site that what they may have heard of her relationship with Sanchez was in fact false and unfounded.

The thing is, Deadspin had no idea what Kruger was talking about. So they investigated, and found out what she was referring to. Some of the site's sources, apparently, had seen Kruger with Sanchez at a Manhattan nightclub on New Years' Eve. From there, the relationship blossomed, with late-night text messages, rendesvouzes and the like. Kruger later corroborated her account of these escapades with photos of Sanchez' house in New Jersey and intimate details of her speedy-yet-memorable relationship with the franchise quarterback.

That's all fine and dandy, but the point I want to address in this post is this: Why in the world did Deadspin feel the need to publish this investigation?

The site has made its name on similar stories in the past, but those other stories have typically shared one very important distinction: they were, in some way, involved with illegal activities.

As Deadspin editor A.J. Daulerio notes at the start of the piece, this story didn't:

This is a story about a famous quarterback's courtship of a 17-year-old girl and the girl's conflicting emotions about fame. No one committed any crimes, as far as we know. It's perfectly legal for the New York Jets' Mark Sanchez to date a 17-year-old girl. He can do it in Manhattan. He can do it at his home on a North Jersey golf course. She's legal. This story has stormy nights and 2 a.m. text messages and cute photographs and mean professional gossips and very angry lawyers, which is to say it's a story about love.

Yes, the story is scandalous. Yes, it's somewhat interesting. But is it relevant enough to the general public to warrant publishing? Not exactly.

And that, somewhat frighteningly, is the problem with a lot of journalism nowadays. There are simply better, more important stories to focus resources on.

You can make the argument that Deadspin is good at what it does, sure, and what it does is explore athletes' and sports professionals' private lives. That makes some sense. Here's the thing, though: so many of their stories in the past several years have influenced the world of sports in a variety of positive ways, from the leaking of pro teams' financial books to investigations into adulterers and crime-committers that eventually got criminals and offenders fired, but the Sanchez-Kruger story is simply not worth anybody's time.

It's gossip, and when websites devote a large portion of their time and resources to gossip, it's bad news. Competing newspapers and sites also picked up on the story throughout the week; some gave it its worthwhile treatment as little more than glorified gossip, but some helped make it to even more than what Deadspin intended it to be.

But that's a story for another blog post: the increasingly mind-blowing speed at which modern journalism can transform through a variety of news sources, and what that can mean for the original story.

It's like that old game, 'Telephone.' Seriously.

Frank Deford, a public intellectual

Frank Deford's a great model to follow as a journalist. He's a sportswriter, but he doesn't fit within the confines commonly imposed on the sportswriting field. He's a college professor, radio commentator and novelist, too, but he doesn't fit within those constraints either.

So what is Frank Deford?

A public intellectual. He fulfills all of those aforementioned occupations' guidelines but serves a greater purpose to the general public as a whole, providing topics of discussion that help us determine a moral compass, help us learn about what's right and what's wrong with the fields that he works in and help us generate interesting, worthwhile topics of conversation for the long term.

Example: Thirty years ago, in January 1981, Deford published in Sports Illustrated a profile of Indiana basketball coach Bobby Knight, covering his outrageous antics off the court and forcing people nationwide to examine their priorities: work or the rest of your life.

For a little background, Knight is one of the most known coaches of all time, in any sport. He was an incredible motivator and superb X's & O's guy, but he always struggled with his temper and thus had many, many players transfer away from his program over the years. Still, Knight won, and won consistently. He won three national titles -- including one in in 1981 -- an Olympic gold medal and a host of Big Ten conference championships.

Knight, Deford wrote, had chose work and the rest of his life suffered. He didn't come right out and say it in the piece, but Deford implied that Knight had an ounce of regret -- maybe more -- deep inside for his decision and recommended others choose the opposite style of life.

"The rabbit hunter," the piece was titled. Knight stalked the insignificant off the court, Deford wrote -- sort of similar to what he did on the court, actually.

The piece was named one of the Top 25 sportswriting pieces of the 20th century by legendary sportswriter/intellectual David Halberstam, but it also gained recognition in a variety of other manners for the fair, unbiased way it took a look at a not-so-pressing issue and made it into something Americans cared about.

Deford's story made Knight into the figure that he became and still is today, and he did it with grace and smarts. For that, he's worthy of commending and worthy of placement in the pantheon of public intellectuals.

About this blog

Inside the fold is written by newspaper and all-around journalism enthusiast Clayton Hastings, a 20-something American everyman.

Started in January 2011, it'll explore the world of journalism and what makes a work of journalism. More specifically, it'll explore the value in stories hidden inside the fold over more prominent ones above and below the field.

Exploring the public square as an aspiring public intellectual, Inside the fold will pontificate on current issues in the world of journalism and the corresponding world as a whole.

Enjoy!