College Football's Money Machine: Is the Fun Worth the Bill?

College football is booming. The numbers tell a story of explosive demand. Over the last five years, TV viewership has surged 33 percent, reaching a staggering 179 billion minutes last season. The sport is more popular than ever, with the College Football Playoff final drawing record attention. Tickets to this year's championship are selling for an average of more than $4,000, a new high that underscores the premium fans are willing to pay for the spectacle.

Yet beneath this financial flush lies a model built on instability. The sport's popularity is matched by unprecedented churn. During the first two weeks of January, as the playoffs unfolded, about 3,000 college football players entered the transfer portal. This isn't just a routine roster shuffle; it's a revolving door that upends team chemistry and coaching stability. The system that fuels this demand-name, image, and likeness deals-was meant to bring structure but has instead created a Wild West marketplace where pay-to-play dynamics and broken promises are common.

The contradiction is stark. The business is booming on the back of a product that fans love to watch, but the cost of that product is spiraling. The record ticket prices reflect the entertainment value, but the underlying spending on players and coaches, including massive buyouts, is creating financial pressure. The sport's popularity is undeniable, but the model that funds it-relying on a constant, expensive churn of talent and a complex, often opaque, pay structure-is showing serious strain. For now, the fans keep coming, but the question is whether the bill can keep getting paid.

The Spending Spiral: Coaches, Collectives, and the Bottom Line

The money pouring into college football is creating a dangerous spending spiral, with two major cost drivers threatening to outpace the revenue. The first is the staggering price of coaching turnover. In 2025 alone, the total of the top 10 coaching buyouts reached $200 million. That's the cost of firing unpopular coaches, not paying them. The scale is immense: Brian Kelly's abrupt departure from LSU carried a contracted buyout of $54 million, while James Franklin's exit from Penn State came with a $9 million price tag. This isn't a one-off year. Since 2004, universities have paid over $1.1 billion to fired coaches, a massive financial burden that drains athletic department budgets.

The second driver is the arms race in Name, Image, and Likeness spending. While the exact figures are private, estimates show a clear hierarchy. Top programs are pulling in record sums, with Clemson and Florida each estimated to have raised $15.2 million and $15.8 million respectively for their NIL collectives. This creates a vicious cycle: schools need to spend more to attract top talent, which increases their own buyout risk if they fire a coach, which in turn requires even deeper pockets to pay the exit fees.

The bottom line is that this model is becoming unsustainable. The sport's popularity generates the cash, but the way it's being spent-on massive buyouts and escalating NIL deals-is creating a financial pressure cooker. When a fan pays $4,000 for a ticket, they're paying for the spectacle. But that revenue must now also cover the cost of a coach's $54 million exit package and the collective that paid a freshman edge rusher a million-dollar deal. For the business to keep working, the spending needs to be matched by equally explosive revenue growth. Right now, the spiral is tightening.

The Path to the Top: Can You Compete Without Breaking the Bank?

The new 12-team playoff structure is supposed to be a meritocracy, but the reality is a two-tiered system. The bracket is undeniably dominated by elite spenders. Programs like Ohio State, Oregon, and Texas Tech have built rosters with astronomical NIL investments, creating a clear path to a top seed. Their financial muscle buys star power and stability, making them the favorites to reach the final. Yet, the model also proves that coaching and player development still matter. Every year, some teams do more with less, earning a berth through savvy recruiting and on-field execution. These overachievers are the exception that proves the rule: they require a special blend of talent and coaching acumen, often pulling players who will leave for bigger paydays elsewhere after the season.

The bigger picture, however, is a widening gap. The system increasingly separates the 'haves' from the 'have-nots.' Wealthier programs can now retain their stars and attract new ones with financial offers that smaller schools simply cannot match. This creates a self-reinforcing cycle where the rich get richer, and the path to a national title becomes a function of budget size as much as on-field performance. The model is becoming less about competitive balance and more about which athletic department has the deepest pockets.

This financial pressure is about to get a new, guaranteed layer. A recently approved antitrust settlement goes into effect in July and will allow schools to directly compensate athletes for their NIL. The settlement caps payments at $20.5 million for 2025-26, with that number rising each year. While the cap is high, the requirement to pay athletes directly adds a new, fixed cost to the budget. For the business to keep working, this new expense must be covered by even more revenue, likely from ticket sales and TV deals. The bottom line is that the current model is straining under its own weight. It rewards spending, not just talent, and the upcoming changes will only increase the financial burden. For now, the spectacle draws fans, but the bill for the product is getting harder to pay.

Catalysts and Risks: What Could Break the Model?

The current model is a high-stakes gamble on future revenue. The July 1 effective date of the House antitrust settlement is the next major catalyst, and it's a double-edged sword. On one hand, it validates the market-driven approach to athlete compensation. On the other, it directly increases costs. The settlement will allow schools to pay athletes for their NIL, capping payments at $20.5 million for the 2025-26 season and rising each year. This isn't a theoretical future cost; it's a new, guaranteed expense that will hit athletic department budgets. For the business to work, this new spending must be matched by even more revenue, likely from ticket sales and TV deals.

The primary risk is that spending continues to outpace growth. The financial pressure is already immense. Last year alone, universities paid a record $228 million in coaching buyouts, and since 2004, the total is over $1.1 billion. Add in the escalating NIL deals, and the cost of fielding a competitive team is a fixed, rising number. If the revenue from fans and donors doesn't keep climbing at the same pace, the math breaks. The strain could force more schools to cut programs or face severe budget shortfalls, turning the sport's popularity into a financial liability for some institutions.

The long-term watchpoint is whether fan and donor enthusiasm can keep funding this model. Right now, the spectacle draws crowds, with tickets to the final selling for a record more than $4,000. But that price tag reflects the entertainment value, not the underlying costs of a $54 million coach buyout or a million-dollar NIL deal. The system works only as long as the money keeps flowing in. If fans start to balk at the rising cost of the product, or donors question the value of funding a system that rewards churn and massive exit fees, the model could unravel quickly. The bottom line is that the current setup is sustainable only if the sport's popularity continues to grow faster than its price tag. For now, the fans keep coming, but the bill is getting harder to pay.