Joey Cunha@_joeycunha
Every year, people go on a rant about how “kids these days” are soft or ungrateful for entering the transfer portal. But let’s talk about what’s actually happening because most people have no idea how this really works.
There are tons of players in the portal who didn’t “quit” on their program—they were told they didn’t have a spot anymore. Coaches told them they should look elsewhere. Coaches pulled scholarships. Coaches pushed them out behind the scenes without ever owning that publicly.
But you don’t see those stories. You just see numbers in the portal and assume it’s all selfish kids running from adversity. You’re not talking to the players. You’re not seeing what really happens.
At the same time, those same coaches are hitting refresh on the portal, shopping for new players. They’ll tell one kid they’re “not part of the plan,” and then celebrate when they land a high-profile transfer from another program. Then they’ll start that new player over the one who’s been loyal for three years. And when that player enters the portal next year? They’ll trash him too.
Meanwhile, fans and media will scream, “Where’s the loyalty?” But they’ll turn a blind eye when the coach takes a better job and leaves overnight, no exit meeting, no plan, no heads-up. He was doing what’s best for him. But the players aren’t allowed the same grace?
The reality is, college sports have become big business. There are schools signing billion-dollar TV deals, and we’re still talking about how a “free education” should be enough? Do you know how hard it is to play a sport and earn a legitimate degree at the same time? Most of the time, they can’t even get into the real programs. They’re steered toward the majors that don’t conflict with practice or travel. Internships, labs, clinicals? All off the table.
So don’t act like you gave these athletes some massive life-changing opportunity. You handed them a pre-selected major and an impossible schedule, and in return, they gave you their body, their time, their brand, and everything else. And when they ask for a little leverage, a little control over their future and you get pissed?
This whole thing is built on sacrifice and the backs of kids who give up time with their families, who travel year-round, who carry the pressure of entire programs, getting shit on by hundreds of their home fans on social media because they went 0-4 tonight while barely keeping their heads above water academically and emotionally. But when it doesn’t work out, we treat them like they’re selfish for looking for a better situation.
If you had a job offer in another state that paid better, was closer to family, and gave you more opportunity—you’d take it. No one would question that. But when a player does it, suddenly it’s betrayal?
And let’s not forget—players built these programs. Decades of sacrifice from 18-to-22-year-olds who got nothing while their coaches cashed in, athletic departments built $50M facilities, and schools marketed the hell out of it all. It’s branding. It’s business. It’s not just a game anymore. And if it’s business on one side, it’s business on the other.
You don’t get to shame a kid for protecting his future just because it makes your team worse. You don’t get to talk about loyalty while you’re actively replacing your own guys with better ones. You don’t get to be mad at the system while benefitting from it.
At the end of the day, players are people.
They get to make decisions, too.
Give them some damn respect, love, and grace—instead of ignoring the inconvenient facts.
You want to talk real numbers? Let’s talk about what people like to avoid because it’s uncomfortable:
Between 2002 and 2022, suicide became the second-leading cause of death among NCAA athletes—only behind accidents.
Even worse?
The rate of suicide among college athletes has doubled over the last two decades.
Players today are carrying pressures no one before them ever had to shoulder. (1 of 2)
