The Myth of the Unpaid Athlete: Jeremiah Smith, NIL, and the New College Football Economy
Let’s start with a question that’s been buzzing in my head lately: When did we start believing that college athletes should play for free? I mean, truly for free—not just without a paycheck, but without any compensation at all. It’s a question that feels almost absurd in 2024, especially when you consider the millions of dollars these athletes generate for their schools and sponsors. Yet, here we are, still debating whether Jeremiah Smith, one of college football’s brightest stars, is making ‘enough’ money.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the way Smith himself has handled the rumors. When a satirical post claimed he was playing for $0 in NIL (Name, Image, Likeness) money, his response was a simple ‘Huh???’ paired with laughing emojis. It’s the kind of reaction that says, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ without saying it outright. But behind that casual dismissal is a deeper truth: Smith, like many of his peers, is not just a student-athlete—he’s a brand, a business, and a key player in a rapidly evolving economy.
From my perspective, the NIL era has completely reshaped college sports. It’s no longer just about scholarships and exposure; it’s about market value, endorsements, and the ability to monetize your talent while still in school. Smith’s NIL valuation reportedly sits at $5 million, and some say it could be even higher. But here’s the thing: even if he’s not making $10 million to transfer (as he could have), it doesn’t mean he’s playing for free. What many people don’t realize is that NIL deals are just one piece of the puzzle. The real question is: How much is he actually worth?
This raises a deeper question: Are we undervaluing these athletes, even as we celebrate their success? Personally, I think we are. Smith isn’t just a wide receiver; he’s a phenomenon. Air Noland, his former quarterback, compared him to Julio Jones and Calvin Johnson—two NFL legends—‘all in one.’ That’s not hyperbole; it’s a testament to Smith’s talent, work ethic, and impact on the field. If you take a step back and think about it, players like Smith are the reason college football is a billion-dollar industry. Yet, we’re still having conversations about whether they deserve to be paid.
One thing that immediately stands out is the psychological toll of these debates. Smith could have chased a massive payday elsewhere, but he chose to stay at Ohio State. Why? Because, as he put it, ‘That’s not how I operate.’ But let’s be real: loyalty has its limits. In a system where athletes are increasingly treated as professionals, the expectation that they should prioritize team success over personal gain feels outdated. What this really suggests is that we’re still grappling with the idea of college athletes as entrepreneurs, not just players.
Now, let’s talk about the bigger picture. Smith and his quarterback, Julian Sayin, are ranked as the top duo in college football. Together, they’re a force that could define the sport for years to come. But their success isn’t just about talent—it’s about chemistry, strategy, and the ability to dominate in a highly competitive landscape. A detail that I find especially interesting is how their partnership reflects the broader shift in college football. It’s no longer just about individual stars; it’s about building dynasties, both on and off the field.
Here’s where it gets really intriguing: Ohio State, despite its consistent success, has never been crowned the ‘Team of the Decade.’ Instead, it’s a program that’s always in the conversation, always competitive, but never quite dominant enough to claim an entire era. This raises another question: Is sustained excellence better than fleeting dominance? Personally, I’d argue that Ohio State’s model—a program that’s ‘recession-proof,’ as some call it—is far more impressive. It’s not just about winning championships; it’s about building a culture that thrives year after year.
If you ask me, the real story here isn’t just about Jeremiah Smith or NIL money. It’s about the transformation of college football into a professionalized, market-driven industry. Players like Smith are no longer just athletes; they’re brands, businesses, and key players in a multi-billion-dollar ecosystem. And yet, we’re still debating whether they deserve to be compensated. What this really suggests is that we’re only scratching the surface of what this new era means for the sport.
So, where do we go from here? In my opinion, the conversation needs to shift from ‘How much are they making?’ to ‘How much are they worth?’ Because players like Jeremiah Smith aren’t just part of the game—they are the game. And until we recognize that, we’ll continue to undervalue the very people who make college football what it is today.
Takeaway: The NIL era has turned college athletes into entrepreneurs, but the debate over their compensation reveals how far we still have to go in recognizing their true value. Jeremiah Smith isn’t just playing for a team—he’s building a legacy, and he deserves every penny of it.
