
Printz v. NCAA, a case filed in Los Angeles federal court on Oct. 23, seeks to enable Division III student-athletes to receive scholarships, repealing bylaw 15.01.3 of DIII code. The case alleges monopsony — a single consumer market — power on the part of DIII and attempts to serve as an antitrust class-action lawsuit representing all DIII athletes.
The case’s outcome could have massive implications for 5C student-athletes. Interestingly, it was one of them who brought it forward. One of three named plaintiffs, Connor Printz CM ’24, played two seasons for Claremont-Mudd-Scripps men’s basketball before quitting to pursue his social media brand. The other plaintiffs are a former University of Lynchburg athlete and current Pacific Lutheran football player.
Printz claims that he would have been able to continue his playing career had he been offered compensation for his athletic endeavors, easing the cost of tuition.
Printz v. NCAA comes in the wake of landmark NCAA antitrust cases like Alston v. NCAA, which, in allowing for university-backed benefits for student-athletes, set the stage for the new Name, Image and Likeness (NIL) regulations. It will also lean on Rock v. NCAA, which, though unsuccessful, broached the idea of DIII school-sponsored athletic compensation.
Despite a summer working for a judge in Massachusetts Superior Court and a half-semester of professor Amanda Hollis-Brusky’s constitutionalism class, I am no expert on these legal proceedings. However, my time as a DIII athlete has proved to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that, regardless of their legality, scholarships do not belong in DIII. DI offers money and fame. DII still provides free tuition while playing. DIII is for the love of the game.
Even if there were better precedent, DIII scholarships are a bad idea. For starters, while being on scholarship would greatly benefit my athlete peers here at the 5Cs and across the country, it is financially unsustainable for the typically smaller DIII schools in question. Many, if not most, DIII schools’ athletics departments operate at a loss. This is not the SEC with its $1 billion-dollar media deal or the Big Ten, which rakes in almost $600 million dollars in ticket sales revenue. If DIII schools like the Claremont Colleges were to implement scholarship athletics, they wouldn’t have the revenue to stay afloat.
As it stands, many schools use the admissions and tuition drawn from athletics to sustain college operations. About a dozen schools in recent years have added football programs in efforts to increase student population and, subsequently, tuition earnings. While athletic teams themselves may lose money, the tuition they bring in keeps some schools afloat. Right here in the SCIAC, Whittier College brought back football to help boost a declining student population.
To now mandate that DIII schools supplement the tuition of their athletes on an athletic basis, as opposed to academic merit or demonstrated need, would cripple these already struggling small schools. But more than that, it would kill the spirit of DIII.
By adding scholarship athletics, DIII would fundamentally change what it means to be a student-athlete within their division. DIII student-athletes may be the only ones left for whom the student truly does come before the athlete.
“ By adding scholarship athletics, DIII would fundamentally change what it means to be a student-athlete within their division. DIII student-athletes may be the only ones left for whom the student truly does come before the athlete. ”
Right now, being a DIII athlete is a sacrifice, albeit one that reaps many rewards. Every DIII athlete chooses between continuing the sport they love or getting the quintessential college experience. I have given up on most of the party scene — RIP to my Halloweekend — spending my Thursday and Friday nights at practice, preparing for a Saturday game. Any semblance of free time I may have had, I threw right out the window in the name of football
That being said, playing DIII has been the best choice I’ve ever made, not because I’ve been lining my pockets, but precisely because everyone on the team is playing for nothing more than the love of the game. People rarely leave to go to the pros. For a vast majority, this is the end of the road, and that is why DIII is beautiful.
Clearly oblivious to the beauty of DIII, Printz tries to argue that DIII is inaccessible because of its lack of scholarships. While Printz — a white, male, double Northeast prep-school grad and Claremont McKenna College alum — may not be the right face of an equity in sports movement, his point of scholarships opening access to the DIII across different backgrounds has merit. At schools like the 5Cs, we are fortunate that need-based aid is offered (although Printz may have a point looking at how CMC trails many of its peer institutions) but across the country smaller DIIIs may not have the resources to support athletes’ tuition under financial aid.
The problem with this argument is twofold: First, many colleges, especially the state schools and academically elite liberal arts colleges, already offer substantial need-based aid, so adding scholarships likely would disproportionately help those who don’t demonstrate need or are currently full-pay students. Second, the implementation of scholarship athletics would remove many full-tuition-paying student-athletes, potentially bankrupting the schools. For schools that cannot afford need-based aid, how can we expect them to afford scholarships? And more importantly, why would we want available need-based aid to be redirected to athletic departments, removing opportunities for non-athletes on aid at those schools?
The plaintiffs in the suit feel they have been wronged by the NCAA DIII. They think they are entitled to something more than an opportunity to learn and play. That attitude is exactly what DIII is designed to avoid. It is why they have merely three plaintiffs and will most likely be denied a class-action suit. DIII is about sacrifice, absurd time management and playing because you want to, not because there is any monetary incentive in it for you. So to Printz and the other plaintiffs, I say, relish your time and memories in DIII for what they were. And if you think you should have been paid, ask yourself, “Why did I choose DIII to begin with?” and “Why was I not good enough to go DI?”
Zachary LeBlanc PO ’28 is a sports fanatic and mediocre football player for the Pomona-Pitzer Sagehens. He worries about what DIII scholarships would mean for him, his teammates and the sport he loves.
