Someday I’ll break the NFL addiction, but it won’t be 2017. I’m nestled in watching playoff football lately, which means I’m also watching a repeated cycle of commercials. Toyota has one in which a hard-working young lad and his parents go through a path filled with bumps and bruises [1] that ends up with a smiling college football coach offering him a full scholarship. That’s some good theater: Everyone’s all teary-eyed that the lad made it!
But for the vast majority of athletes, that’s not how it goes.
In “The Myth of the Sports Scholarship [2],” The Chronicle of Higher Education’s Brad Wolverton shows how the concept of “sports scholarship” is not what it appears. Think about some facts and figures:
- 8 million kids play high school sports.
- 170,000 get a scholarship (that’s 2%).
- Most of even that 2% get nowhere near enough to cover most of their college costs.
- Only six sports provide the idealized “big scholarship”: football, men’s and women’s basketball, women’s gymnastics, women’s tennis, and women’s volleyball. In other sports, “scholarships don’t come close to covering the full cost of every athlete’s education.”
Wolverton focuses on one big school, NC State: Of the 558 athletes, more than 200 had 20% or less of their costs covered by sports scholarships. By the way, other than the big six sports, only 27 other athletes have full rides.
There’s nothing wrong with the dream. The issue is the way it’s been packaged and grasped onto by often desperate parents.
As any athlete will tell you, if you love your sport and want to attend college, getting any sports-related money would be a tremendous boon. As a D3 wrestler for a small (and woeful) program at Rutgers-Camden, I was thrilled that my “scholarship” took the form of a cushy work-study job as a gym lifeguard. That was good enough for me — and more than adequate for my talents.
What if your kid, after all those years, doesn’t want the full-time job of a D1 athlete? Maybe he or she just wants to go to school. Even though I wasn’t in anything close to a D1 program, during the season I made a seven-day-a-week commitment, probably 10 to 12 workouts each week. Without question, that experience shaped me into who I am today. I wouldn’t trade it. But that experience was driven solely by me. I had no external money pressures to continue competing.
In my current job, I sit with many students who can barely keep going in the pressure cooker of college in 2017. Only a select few could put sports on top of that.
One of these days, I’m going to break down the costs of youth sports, even for a non-obsessed family like ours. Registrations, gear, gas, medical costs – it quickly adds up to far more than the typical small scholarship would offer.
I’m writing from a weird stance. I love sports. I love the dream. I even like that Toyota commercial. As a teacher and coach, I believe in human potential. If your little tyke wants to be a star, let them go for it. But to paraphrase how Wolverton ends his article, you need to know what you’re getting into. If you try to turn the joy of youth sports into a financial investment, you need to do some homework about what the word “scholarship” really means.
- Author Bio [3]
- Latest Posts [4]
[5]Scott Warnock [6]
[5]Latest posts by Scott Warnock (Posts [7])
- An Eagle’s farewell: Nothing artificial about it [8] - March 29, 2024
- Friends of all ages [9] - March 6, 2024
- AI overlord inevitability?: My fantasy team says no [10] - January 19, 2024
- Three-volley salute–and fathers and sons [11] - December 18, 2023
- Trains do not keep a rollin’ [12] - October 21, 2023