NCAA Athletics

Recently The New York Times ran a three-part series of articles titled The Scholarship Divide. The series was about college athletics, from the recruiting to what it's like to be on a team to scholarship statistics. It talked about how many parents are under the impression that every college athlete is on a full ride and that every team has some unlimited bank of money to dip into, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The article focused on non-profit sports like field hockey, track & field/cross country, baseball, swimming, et al. Basically every sport other than basketball and football.

Check it out.

The writer, Bill Pennington, talked to coaches and athletes at the University of Delaware and Villanova University who participated in non-profit sports. As a former cross country runner at Hofstra, I don't think the articles could have been any closer to the truth. It talked about how kids get their scholarships, sign their National Letters of Intent, and think the hay's in the barn. Yeah right. The truth is, the hard work begins at college, assuming you want to improve and take your commitment to the team seriously.

The only thing I call into question regarding Pennington's research for his articles is why he only talked to people from Villanova and Delaware. Maybe he went to the schools, or his kids did, so he's trying to get the schools some publicity. It would have been better had he went to other schools to sample a wider range of coaches and athletes.

The hours put into practice, preparation for practice, weight lifting, team meetings and dinners is demanding to say the least. Then there is the traveling. Sometimes by plane, but more often than not it's a five-hour, one way bus ride. To say a college athlete lives a different life than that of the average college student is the understatement of the century. I'm a junior, and I've yet to have that "Spring Break" experience. My freshman year, I didn't go home until Thanksgiving. I can't even remember all the parties, weekend road trips to friends at other schools, and other events that I've missed because of practice or races the next day.

I'll never forget my freshman year, living with five other people I had just met. They were cool, but they couldn't understand how I couldn't go to Friday happy hour because I had a race the next morning. The concept was so foreign to them. Another thing I was a stickler with was Thursday nights. It is said that the sleep you get two nights before a competition is more important than the sleep you get the night before, so when I told people that I couldn't go out on a Thursday night because of a race Saturday, they looked at me like I had 10 heads.

I remember days when I would get done the workout on a lifting day, and there I would sit in the locker room, face in my hands, trying to summon the energy to walk down to the weight room. I kept Pringles in my locker for the salt because after workouts I would feel so depleted and dead.

Nothing burned worse than heartburn midway through a day, around lunch time, and all I could do was sip Gatorade and nibble yogurt because if I ate too much, my stomach would be uncomfortably full during the workouts at four o'clock. Oh yeah, I attended classes in between all of this. Nine o'clock became sleeping in on non-morning run days. A morning run meant getting up, usually with a headache, at roughly 5:30 to be dressed and ready to run by six. That was three days a week for the first month or so of the season. Fridays were bus rides and staying in hotels, usually staying up at night waiting for my girlfriend, who was partying, to call me and say good night. Saturdays were race days, followed by bus rides back to campus, often getting back late. Sundays were recovery runs, anywhere between 10-15 miles.

From my memory, which is pretty good, we only ever had two practices canceled due to inclement weather. One was when the whole university shut down, and the other was when our coach literally couldn't make it to campus because of the icy roads and the ice that made his car inaccessible.

While the off-season--summer, winter, and spring because we didn't have an officially NCAA-sanctioned track team--weren't as intense, they were no walk in the park. Summers meant running in nothing but shorts, sunglasses, shoes, and grains of salt all over your body from the sweat. Winters meant running in the dark and cold, not feeling your toes after a mile or two, and holding your hands in your sleeves. Springs consisted of daily practices, lifting twice a week, and just as intense of a season as the fall cross country season, just without a conference and regional championship meet, so it didn't mean as much. That said, we still had to go at it intensely because all of the schools we were competing against had track teams and were running in conference and regional and even national championship meets during the indoor (winter) and outdoor (spring) seasons, so we couldn't just sit on our duffs during the spring even though we didn't have a "real" team. We still raced, and we still lived and breathed the sport of running. We had to to stay competitive. Running is year round, and the collegiate athletics world moves faster than most.

Now, after a brief glimpse into two and a half years of an NCAA Division 1 track and cross country scholarship athlete, I'd like to set the record straight. I'm not whining or complaining. No spring breaks? No problem, I couldn't afford them anyways. Off-season training? I always looked forward to planning out my summer in regard to mileage and days off. Not having a day off in weeks? I slept better every night. Morning runs? It was nice to watch the sunrise and get to eat a breakfast before class. Lifting? Joe Makovic, our strength and conditioning coach, was awesome, and lifting kept me lean.

What I'm saying is my experience being an NCAA athlete was certainly joblike, moreso than I could handle come my junior year, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. The time spent in the locker room, in hotels, bus rides, team dinners, et al. was worth all the blood, sweat, and tears. It was my ticket off campus, as I got to run at Delaware; the famous Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, which still gives me chills to think about; Princeton, which was the most beautiful campus and track facility I've ever seen; the Armory in Harlem, the world's fastest track; various places in my home state of Pennsylvania; Boston; North Carolina; and Florida. I got a lot of free stuff, like shoes, sweats, backpacks, all of which I still wear and use. The people I met were genuine friends, and I am still incredibly close with both of my coaches, James Sewell and Pete Alfano. My teammates, both former and current members of Hofstra Cross Country are all in my phone and on my buddy list, and I still live with some of them. The bonds we created still last, and while I had to make the painful decision to walk away from running, which I had done for six years, it was for the better.

The articles in the New York Times reminded me of everything, from the recruiting in closet-like offices to the envy between teammates when you find out how much each athlete receives in scholarship dollars. I got to see how collegiate athletics are a business, and it gets ugly, but again, it was worth everything it cost. I encourage anyone who has the opportunity to continue their athletic careers past high school to take advantage of it, but understand that while it's a fun job, it's still a job, and it's not for everyone.