The University of Texas has one of the biggest athletic budgets in the nation. The Longhorns’ finances resemble that of a small country rather than a college athletic program.
But that’s not surprising, especially when you read the opening paragraph on the university’s site about their athletic department.
“Texas Athletics – a self-sustaining arm of the university – has a total FY 2019-20 budget of $187 million. It fully supports itself and generates revenue for the university’s academic enterprises. It is among the few national athletics programs that receives no revenue from student fees, institutional or state sources. Far from competing with academics or financial aid for resources, Texas Athletics generates resources for students.”
UT athletics is a profitable cash machine. For the 2019-2020 athletic year, they generated $200.7 million in revenue and netted a profit of $22.1 million. In all fairness, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a well-run program led by Athletic Director Chris Del Conte, one that has transferred an average of $9.9 million annually to the university over the last ten years. These funds are used by the school for student services and other initiatives, so it benefits the general campus population.
It’s also a machine emphatically supported by a loyal and rabid fan base. This group contributed, per that Hookem.com story, $33.6 million to the football program alone. Being part of something special like the “Hook ’em horns” community is an experience that forges a bond that can’t be broken (unless your descendants go to Oklahoma), so supporting the school you love is perfectly understandable.
But when that money comes with strings attached, school passion gives way to impropriety, unfair expectations and influence.
In a story published Monday, The Texas Tribune exposed the intimate relationship that has always existed between college sports and money.
According to the Tribune, it all began after Texas lost to their bitter rivals, Oklahoma, in October. Tradition dictates that all Longhorn players remain on the field after the game to sing the university’s alma mater song, “The Eyes of Texas”. It’s a long-standing postgame tradition honored by all Texas teams in the past. But players broke with tradition and left the field, infuriating some particular fans, alumni and donors.
But these players had good reason to do so.
After the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests, clashes, and social justice movements across the country, student-athletes told the university they no longer wanted that song played due to its origins. Dating back to the early 1900s, it was originally performed in black face at minstrel shows. The title, according to The Tribune, is “linked to a saying from Confederate Army Commander Robert E. Lee.”
The school refused their request and was supported by the Board of Regents. Head football coach, Steve Sarkisian, said he would respect the decision of players who didn’t want to sing the song but was adamant he was standing with tradition.
“I know this much,” said Sarkisian, “‘The Eyes of Texas’ is our school song. We’re going to sing that song. We’re going to sing that proudly.”
This resistance posed a difficult situation for Black football players. How do you play for the burnt orange and white when your coach simultaneously sidesteps and slaps you in the face?
Some players threatened to stop showing up at donor events and even created a petition to boycott the song. Others left the field before the song was played, but nothing changed. The reason?
Deep donor pockets.
Deep Pockets, Big Demands
Influential supporters pressured the school by threatening Texas’ bank account if “The Eyes of Texas” was removed. The Tribune obtained approximately 300 emails sent to University of Texas-Austin President Jay Hartzell about the issue. According to their story, 70% of those emails supported the postgame tradition.
And they were not subtle in their demands either.
“My wife and I have given an endowment in excess of $1 million to athletics. This could very easily be rescinded if things don’t drastically change around here,” wrote one donor in October. “Has everyone become oblivious of who supports athletics??”
“‘The Eyes of Texas’ is non-negotiable,” wrote an alum and long-time season ticket holder. “If it is not kept and fully embraced, I will not be donating any additional money to athletics or the university or attending any events.”
Perhaps the strongest opposition to the song’s removal came from school alum and billionaire businessman, Bob Rowling. He owns Omni Hotels and has his name on a building at the McCombs School of Business.
“I am not advising you or taking any position regarding this issue right now, other than to say ‘The Eyes’ needs to be our song,” wrote Rowling. “I AM wanting you to be aware of the ‘talk about town’ regarding UT. There are a lot of folks on this email chain who love UT and are in positions of influence.”
The Tribune interviewed Rowling and he did not backtrack in the least bit.
“My advice to Jay was these alumni have given and are giving,” Rowling told the Tribune. “We’re in the middle of a capital campaign right now. …We’re raising billions of dollars right now. If you want to dry that up immediately, cancel ‘The Eyes of Texas.'”
And there it is. The true weight which tips the scale.
Money.
With that kind of weight on his neck, Hartzell was essentially forced to maintain the status quo.
“‘The Eyes of Texas’ should not only unite us, but hold all of us accountable to our institution’s core values. But we first must own the history,” said Hartzell in a July letter to the university community.
His attempt to appease both sides by keeping the song and educating about its origins simply signaled that green had triumphed over Black.
Money, Power but no Respect
The influence wealthy alumni wield over the school is recognizable, so this has been a frustrating and draining experience for the student-athletes. This is particularly evident as it relates to Black student-athletes.
“It’s time for you to put the foot down and make it perfectly clear that the heritage of Texas will not be lost,” wrote one donor who graduated in 1986. “It is sad that it is offending the blacks. As I said before the blacks are free and it’s time for them to move on to another state where everything is in their favor.”
“Less than 6% of our current student body is black,” wrote Larry Wilkinson, a 1970 graduate and donor. “The tail cannot be allowed to wag the dog….. and the dog must instead stand up for what is right. Nothing forces those students to attend UT Austin. Encourage them to select an alternate school ….NOW!”
“You tell those ‘students’ who don’t want to play, they are out of the band and let the others play,” wrote Linden R. Welsch, class of 1969. “This is the same problem you have with the football team. You have let the inmates run the asylum. You let political correctness/ social justice or whatever take over and have lost control. It is stupid and demonstrates a total lack of leadership.”
This mentality of “inmates running the asylum” is not new. The late Bob McNair, former owner of the Houston Texans, said the same thing in late 2017 in response to players kneeling during the anthem. He apologized and then later backtracked on that apology.
This is the hatred that Black student-athletes face.
Yesterday The Tribune published a story detailing threats made against players. Caden Sterns was one of those players who took to Twitter to expose alumni who threatened his post-athletic career in Texas if he refused to participate in the postgame tradition.
“I got nothing but love for UT and Texas, just wanna help make it a better place as much as I can,” Sterns said to the Tribune through a Twitter DM.
Other players, such as linebacker DeMarvion Overshown, echoed Sterns’ claim.
“They said y’all don’t have to sing it. But y’all have to stay on the field. Y’all have to go over there and at least show fans appreciation for coming out and watching you guys play,” said Overshown in a call with The Tribune.
“It was really eye-opening,” continued Overshown. “These are some high-power people that come to see you play and they can keep you from getting a job in the state of Texas. It was shocking that they said that. To this day I still think back to the moment. They really used that as a threat to get us to try to do what they wanted us to do.”
Another player, who declined to be named for fear of retaliation, told The Tribune that Del Conte also applied pressure at that team meeting last season.
“He kept saying these guys provide this for you. … He was mentioning, ‘We have donors talking about pulling out money from the south end zone [stadium addition project], stopping their donations,’
Del Conte denied the accusation.
“I never said this, nor would I say this to a student-athlete, and I’ve never heard it from any donors or alumni. My message has consistently been about unity. I’m disappointed if anything anyone else said to our student-athletes caused them to feel this way. That concerns me,” he said in a statement emailed to The Tribune. “I’ve talked to several student-athletes about this and am happy to talk to anyone to let them know that this is not true. I’ve only seen our alumni work to support our student-athletes.”
After the Tribune’s story broke on Monday, President Hartzell chided the racist emails, saying they did not represent the overall Longhorn alumni base.
“People who target our students with hateful views do not represent the values of the Longhorn community,” he said. “A few extremist views in the sample of emails the Texas Tribune reported on do not speak for the 540,000 proud Longhorn alumni who actively support our students and university. Out of the many emails I received this fall, a very small number included comments that were truly abhorrent and hateful. I categorically reject them, and they bear no influence on any aspect of our decision-making.”
He did little to appease those fighting for change. University senior Connor O’Neill is a co-director of the Longhorn Athletic Agency, a group that gives student athletes a voice in within the student government. He pointed out that the angry donors are the ones wielding a lot of influence and power.
“President Hartzell basically said these were just a few of thousands of fans, but the issue there is you know those few people are the ones with a lot of power,” he said. “They are the donors giving millions of dollars and the ones that are saying ‘shut up and dribble.’”
Players recognize what they’re up against and the hypocrisy they face.
“It made me realize what money will make people do here,” said Overshown. “The fact that somebody said they had our backs 100%, but yet it comes to money and the donors and what they want, then it’s a completely different story.”
And that’s what this has always been about.
Money and power, but no respect.
