Wednesday, July 22, 2026 at 2:06 AM PDT
Eric F. Spina is president of the University of Dayton.
Roger J. Thompson is president of Saint Mary’s College of California.
They’re trying to kill Cinderella.
That fairy-tale underdog is the lifeblood of college basketball.
Every March, millions watch because a 16-seed can topple a giant, a mid-major can make an improbable run and a player or coach few had heard of can suddenly become a household name.
None of that happens in a sport where the richest, football-fueled programs can outspend everyone else. The House v. NCAA settlement was supposed to prevent that.
The settlement fundamentally reshaped college athletics.
It authorized colleges to share revenue directly with athletes for the first time, established a cap on those payments and resolved years of litigation over athlete compensation.
Supporters argued the agreement would provide a more stable and predictable framework for college sports while preserving competitive opportunities for institutions with different resources and financial models.
A play to change the game
Yet barely a year later, conference commissioners, athletic directors, and university leaders are publicly advocating to raise the established cap on what colleges can directly pay athletes from $20 million to $30 million, $40 million and beyond.
They argue schools are spending at or above the cap and need greater flexibility to build and retain rosters.
How can a settlement of this magnitude—presented as essential to the future of college athletics—be reconsidered after barely a year because some parties no longer like the consequences of the bargain they struck?
The issue is not whether the settlement was perfect.
No settlement ever is, and reasonable people can disagree about whether the current cap is the right number. The question is whether a landmark agreement deserves the opportunity to work before it's rewritten. If not, what confidence should anyone have that the next version will endure any longer?
Few believed the settlement would be the final word on college athletics governance.
It was widely understood as a first step toward broader reforms, potentially including federal legislation or a more comprehensive national framework. But a first step only works if participants are willing to build upon it.
How high will the cap go?
The stakes are not theoretical.
Many schools accepted significant financial and operational consequences—in the form of damage payments, compliance obligations, and roster-limit changes—in exchange for promised stability.
The NCAA itself is a party to the agreement and bears responsibility for representing all Division I institutions that accepted those costs and obligations.
Nor was the cap pulled from thin air. The parties examined revenues, expenses, and competitive realities, drawing in part on revenue-sharing principles in professional sports.
They debated alternatives, made concessions, and persuaded a federal court the agreement was fair, reasonable, and adequate.
One wonders if college athletics powers are willing to honor the limits at all, because if the answer to exceeding a cap is to raise the cap, what happens when spending rises again? Will the answer be another increase? What principle determines when enough is enough?
The consequences extend far beyond athletic department budgets. These limits matter because they shape who can realistically compete and who remains relevant.
More than the giants should be on the court
Programs such as Dayton, Saint Mary’s, Gonzaga, VCU, Butler, Loyola Chicago, and many others have helped define college basketball through player development, passionate fan bases, and remarkable postseason success. Millions watch every March because they believe excellence can emerge from unexpected places.
This is not simply a debate between the Power 4 and everyone else.
Not every university in those conferences possesses the same resources, donor support, or media revenues. The question is not whether Dayton and Saint Mary’s can keep pace with the wealthiest programs. It is whether any meaningful spending limit can survive once those with the greatest resources decide it's inconvenient.
It is difficult to reconcile today’s calls for a dramatically higher cap with last year’s insistence this agreement was fair, reasonable, and necessary, or with the clear financial pain even well-heeled universities are feeling.
College athletics does not need another round of escalating spending targets. It needs discipline to honor agreements, patience to evaluate reforms before rewriting them, and wisdom to preserve a system where institutions of different sizes and resources can compete and matter.
The future of college sports will not be secured by continually raising the price of admission until only a handful of giants can afford to play.
If we refuse to honor the agreements we make, we aren’t just changing the rules of the game—we are ensuring Cinderella never even gets an invitation to the ball.
