Closer and closer

 There is professional football afoot in America right now, sort of, and, no, I am not talking about the the Memphis Showboats vs. the Michigan Panthers. That's the UFL, which barely counts, seeing how no one's watching it except degenerate gamblers and various other sadsacks.

 No, sirree. I'm talkin' about real professional football, where players make salary demands and teams either say "yea" or "nay." 

"Oh, come on!" you're saying now. "Isn't the NFL shoving mock drafts down our throats enough for you? Do we have to read about Roger Goodell's kingdom 24/7/365?"

Who says I'm talking about the NFL?

'Cause I'm not.

No, I'm talking about the other professional football, which is frankly just as professional as the NFL and way more so than the UFL. I'm talking about college football.

Where, down at the University of Tennessee, the Volunteers just said "nay" to quarterback Nico Iamaleava's salary demands. Seems Nico wanted $4 mill to stick around, and Tennessee told him to take a hike.

And, OK, so Nico wasn't demanding a salary, exactly. College football hasn't gotten brave enough to dive into those waters just yet. But the day when it finally whispers "OK, time to quit stalling and DO THIS" is getting closer and closer, and the Nico situation illustrates just how close that day might be.

What, after all, is the fundamental difference between an NIL deal and an actual salary to play football for dear old Whatsamatta U.? 

Now that schools can get directly involved in those deals, the fiction of the "student-athlete" is even more fictitious than ever. It's a fairy tale straight from the Brothers Grimm. And the dynamic between Nico Iamaleava and the University of Tennessee only the latest proof.

Nico, or at least his representatives (yes, college kids have "representatives" now) made a demand; Tennessee said no. Word has it he and several other Tennessee players even considered sitting out the College Football Playoff last year to leverage a better deal.

Just like, you know, Player X refusing to report to training camp because he's in a salary beef with the Vikings or the Browns or the Giants or the Eagles or whoever.

The only difference at this point is, unlike the NFL, college football has no contract structure to act as a guardrail. And coupled with the unrestrained transfer portal, that makes every Nico Iamaleava a free agent every year and all the time. 

And that is an unsustainable model.

Which means sooner rather than later college football is going to have to swallow hard and admit, finally and irrevocably, that the fiction is dead and  their "student-athletes" are employees of the university just as surely as, say, Kyler Murray is an employee of the Arizona Cardinals. They're there to generate revenue for a specific brand, only instead of the Arizona Cardinals it's ... well, the University of Tennessee or University of Michigan or Penn State University or the University of Alabama.

An actual professional structure that treated players like the pros they already are would finally acknowledge that reality. It would lock them into multi-year contracts for an agreed-upon salary, throwing a lasso around the current Wild West show.

In the meantime, here is college football: Standing on the high dive, steeling itself, looking down at all that deep, deep water.

It looks more than just intimidating, at this point. It looks inevitable.