While the rest of the college sports world is busy rolling its eyes at President Trump’s latest executive order, Texas Tech President Lawrence Schovanec is busy practicing his curtsy. The “Save College Sports” order—which has the legal weight of a damp napkin at a tailgate—promises to “restore order” by limiting athletes to a single transfer and a five-year eligibility window. It’s basically a “no-exit” clause for anyone who realizes Lubbock’s charm is 90% haboobs and 10% overpriced tacos.
Schovanec is terrified that the “brand” is at risk, citing a “black hole” of revenue that apparently only a federal mandate can fix. While real-world GMs are calling the order “meaningless paper” and “more lawsuits and BS,” our local leadership is treating it like a holy relic. They’re even backing the threat of losing federal grants if they don’t play by the NCAA’s increasingly delusional rules—because nothing says “Raider Power” like begging the government to stop players from finding a better job.
The best part? The big White House brainstorming session included billionaire boosters like Tech’s own Cody Campbell and millionaire coaches like Nick Saban, but zero actual athletes. According to the President, the players were “well-represented” by the very people who profit off their sweat. It’s comforting to know that in Lubbock, we’re not just following the trend of corporate athletics; we’re leading the pack in enthusiastic, uncritical obedience.
If the “brand” is so fragile that it requires an executive order to keep kids from leaving, have we considered that maybe the problem isn’t the transfer portal, but the fact that we’re asking them to live in a dust bowl for five years?
