Embden rejects proposal to explore leaving school district
The 148-107 vote comes after months of tension in the small town. School costs were at the center of the debate: critics of withdrawal believed such a move would undercut the district's budget and be detrimental to local education, while advocates saw it as a way to explore potential tax savings for the town amid rising education costs.
Residents collected over 60 signatures to get the issue on the ballot. Tuesday's nay vote means that the town will stop at step two of the 22-step withdrawal process and Embden will remain in its school district.
Had residents voted in favor of moving forward, Embden would have formed a withdrawal committee under the state's guidance and begun negotiating an exit from RSU 74 before holding a second vote to decide whether or not to withdraw.
'I'm relieved that they have chosen not to proceed with the withdrawal process,' said RSU 74 Superintendent Mark Campbell. 'And I do understand that there were some messages sent by that. As the leadership team, we need to take a hard look at what we can do to further lessen the tax burden on all of our families in RSU 74.'
RSU 74 serves four towns — Anson, Embden, New Portland and Solon — and has four schools. If Embden had gone through the withdrawal process and voted to leave, the schools could have faced drastic cuts, Campbell recently told The Maine Monitor.
Regardless of their stance on the issue of withdrawal, many residents pointed to issues in the state's school funding model.
Paul Fortin, who spearheaded Embden's withdrawal exploratory committee earlier this year, previously told The Maine Monitor that debate between neighbors was misguided, and that the issue lay with the state.
The state's funding formula — known as Essential Programs and Services (EPS) — can place more financial responsibility of education on towns if property valuations are high or student enrollment is low. School districts also tend to raise beyond what the EPS model requires to cover other costs not covered by the state formula.
Valuation in Embden has more than doubled since 2015.
On Tuesday, residents in RSU 74 also voted on whether to approve a $12.9 million school budget, about a $350,000 increase from last year. Embden will be responsible for about $2.2 million of these funds. Residents across the district passed the school budget in a 238-181 vote, an outcome that heads to the school board for final approval Wednesday night.
School enrollment across the district has been declining, according to state data. However, the district reported that Embden's student count has risen slightly since the 2020-21 school year.
This is not the first time Embden has explored withdrawal. The town went through the formal process in 2015 but the measure ultimately failed. The nearby towns of Strong and Phillips recently voted in favor of beginning the withdrawal process from MSAD 58, which saw its $12.6 million school budget fail at the polls on Tuesday.
The move follows a decades-long trend of rural communities exploring withdrawal to tackle budget woes and take control of local education.
Embden resident Kayla Starr, who has been a strong critic of withdrawal and won a bid for a selectman position on Tuesday, said that she felt 'proud' that residents chose to 'stand behind education, community and the next generation.' Still, she pointed to a looming need to address the underlying issue: how schools are funded in Maine.
'What we're seeing across the state hopefully serves as a wake-up call to state officials — it's time to reexamine the funding formula for public education and find real solutions,' Starr said. 'Towns shouldn't be left to figure it out on their own, especially when doing so could unintentionally cause more harm than good.'
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Yahoo
6 days ago
- Yahoo
Meet Cody Campbell, the billionaire Texas Tech booster with plan to save college sports
DALLAS — He doesn't need this. He can walk away right now, and leave the unseemly unraveling of college sports to someone else. Hop on a plane and escape Washington D.C. and the land of everybody's got an angle, and be home in the DFW Metroplex in a matter of hours. An amateur sports world of turmoil in his wake. Or he could do what he has always done. Fix the problem. 'I've built and sold $15 billion worth of companies,' Cody Campbell says. 'I'm not a dumbass.' Of all the upheaval, of all the unthinkable moves over the last four years that have drastically changed college sports, none would be more improbable than this. A deep-pocket booster, a capital investment savant, saving college football – and by proxy, college sports – from itself. He knows what you're thinking. What does a billionaire businessman, a Texas Tech sports sugar daddy, know about saving college football? The logical response: what do university presidents know? Because they're the men and women in charge of it all now — and doing a catastrophically poor job of it. Cody Campbell part of Donald Trump's team Campbell, 43, sees the dichotomy of it all, and at this point, the only thing that matters is the most powerful man in the world believes Campbell has a chance to assess the problems of college sports – with its front porch money-maker, football – and fix it. Though the White House hasn't officially announced it, President Trump and Campbell – a former offensive lineman at Texas Tech in the early 2000s – have spoken at length about how to fix the problems of the last four years of paradigm change within college sports. Change that seems to inevitably lead to the downsize, and in some cases, the elimination, of women's and Olympic sports. There won't be a commission, as had been previously reported. A person close to the process, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, told USA TODAY Sports that it will follow much in the same way Trump deals with other problems: he finds a point person, and that person reports directly to him. When asked if he were that person, Campbell said, "I've been in conversations with President Trump for quite some time now, and the one thing I can tell you is he cares very much about preserving and maintaining college sports. Not just football, but women's sports and Olympic sports, and the opportunities they provide. It's one of the best things we have culturally in this country. "I don't want to see it die. And we can all see it's dying.' MORE SPORTS: IMG Academy CEO: Why colleges should add teams after House settlement Cody Campbell part of problem and solution? It is here where we address the obvious. The same person who will be charged with finding the fix to a myriad of issues, is the same booster who has been, in the eyes of many, part of the problem. This time last year, Campbell – through the Texas Tech Matador Club collective – was busy convincing All-America pitcher NiJaree Canady to leave Stanford for a record-breaking million-dollar NIL deal. Leave the history and tradition of Stanford softball, for the great unknown in Lubbock, Texas. A deal that quickly became the very definition of college sports losing its way. And soul. A year later, Tech advanced to its first Women's College World Series behind Canady, and lost in the championship series to rival Texas. And that's only the shallow end of a deep and committed dive for Campbell and a handful of private Texas Tech donors. But these are the rules laid out by those currently running college sports. There's no rhyme or reason, no definitive lines to color between. So Campbell and his donor group, like many others, take advantage of them. They know the rules, they're playing the game. They're chasing the Big Ten and SEC, the two super conferences who have seized control of the present and future of college sports. There's currently only one way for schools in other conferences to reach them and compete at the same level. With cold, hard cash. Cody Campbell isn't just trying to fix Texas Tech Campbell knows what a win over Texas in the Women's CWS would've meant to Texas Tech, and what a College Football Playoff run this season will mean. He and his donor group have invested more than $300 million in facilities upgrades for the football program, and currently have $55 million in NIL contracts for all Texas Tech athletes for the 2025 season — a number believed to be the largest (by far) in the NCAA. And that's the irony of this story. Campbell doesn't need to jump into the cesspool of D.C. politics, or massage the egos of the big personalities of college sports and their insular nature of self-protection. He could just keep throwing hundreds of millions at Texas Tech and attempt to buy championships, and avoid all the agita. But this is much bigger than that. This is about sports and society, and protecting a unique opportunity for all ― not just for the 34 schools in the Big Ten and SEC, or other universities fortunate enough to have deep-pocket boosters to bridge any financial divide. "When he dives into something to fix it, there's no stone left unturned," says Texas Tech football coach Joey McGuire. "He's going to find a way." There's a reason officials in the Big Ten and SEC recoil at the mention of Campbell. It's not just his brash use of existing NIL rules, but his public declarations that college sports is dying with a current caste system of winners and losers. The winners: the Big Ten and SEC, with their billion-dollar media rights deals separating them from the rest of college sports. The losers: everyone else, with media rights deals less than half of what the Big Ten and SEC earn. The reorganization of college sports over the last four years is all about money. Those making it, and those losing it. But Campbell has a different idea: share the wealth, increase revenue and watch college sports grow like never before. What does a billionaire businessman know about saving college sports, you ask? More than you think. Cody Campbell is built for job of saving college sports This story begins two generations ago, where Bill Cagle, Campbell's maternal grandfather, grew up in hardscrabble Childress, Texas. His family lived through the Dust Bowl in the 1930s, persevering through an ecological disaster in the Texas panhandle despite the barest of necessities. Cagle made it out because he played football, earning a scholarship to Hardin-Simmons when it played in the old Division I Border Conference. Cagle, a member of the school's Hall of Fame, was also captain of the baseball and track and field teams. A true Texas legend. Campbell's dad, Cliff, grew up in tiny Haskell, Texas, and was the first on his side of the family to go to college. A mega recruit long before the days of recruiting rankings, if Cliff didn't play football, he never would've seen the inside of a classroom at Texas Tech. Then there's Cody, who was part of coach Mike Leach's first recruiting class at Texas Tech. A four-year letterman at Tech, Campbell had a cup of coffee in the NFL with the Indianapolis Colts before deciding to use the business degree he earned. His latest business move this spring with partner John Sellers, another former Texas Tech football player and booster: selling some of their energy company's assets in the Permian, Texas oil basin for $4 billion. His two deals prior to that: $2.8 billion (2017) and $6.4 billion (2021). It's hard to find a better example of the value of a college education and the college sports experience – the very thing Campbell and many others within higher education believe is lost in the reshaping of amateur sports – than the Campbell family tree. And what's getting lost, Campbell says, is the hundreds of thousands of stories over the years just like his. Some with significantly more difficult beginnings, and equally inspiring success. The sea change in college sports College sports was once a personal investment on and off the field, a grind of four or five difficult but rewarding years that shaped a future. Now it's monetarily transactional, a way station to the path of least resistance. 'I met my wife, met all of my best friends, and my life is what it is because I had the opportunity to play college football,' Campbell said. 'I feel like I owe it to the system, to the institution of college sports, to try to help fix it and make it work again.' The plan to make it work begins and ends with the Sports Broadcasting Act of 1961, which provides limited antitrust exemptions for sports leagues and allows them to pool media rights to sell collectively. Campbell believes the four power conferences can pool their collective rights and generate significantly more revenue. The Big Ten and SEC, for numerous reasons – for starters, control of their brands and television windows on their own networks – want no part of it. Or as one high-ranking SEC official, who spoke to USA TODAY Sports on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the discussions, said: 'Why would we share revenue when we have the product that bears the fruit, and others don't?' Currently, the Big Ten, SEC, ACC and Big 12 earn an estimated $3 billion combined annually from media rights. But a high-placed industry official told USA TODAY Sports on the condition of anonymity due to the nature of the subject that a single-payer system (pooled rights) could double the current value of the combined power conference deals. 'But they can't even agree on how many (conference) games to play,' the industry official said. 'Do you really think they can agree on something like single payer?' They may not have a choice. The ink on the landmark House case settlement – which has ushered in revenue sharing between schools and players, and the need for increased revenue across college sports to pay for it – wasn't even dry before multiple appeals were filed, including former athletes claiming Title IX violations in the disbursement of $2.8 billion backpay to former players. But it's the lawsuits that haven't been filed that concern the presidents and chancellors of the power conferences. The House settlement also set the framework for private NIL deals that are not part of the university's allowed maximum revenue share pool of $20.5 million for all athletes. An accounting firm will decide 'fair market value' for those private NIL deals, which will unquestionably be the difference in many high school and transfer portal signings. The firm has the power to cancel such deals it deems unfit. Needless to say, a fair market arbiter in a free market economy is rife with legal pitfalls. This is where the federal government comes into play — and where Campbell and Trump's focus on college sports can help sherpa legislation through a deeply divided Congress. But at a price. In the simplest of terms, if the SEC and Big Ten want protection from lawsuits and federal antitrust laws – officials from both conferences have had double-digit meetings with Congress over the last four years, begging for help – they'll listen and negotiate and come to a viable agreement. At least, in theory. Because getting their collective arms around this beast won't be easy. The threat of antitrust and Title IX lawsuits are one thing, the tentacles from those big picture problems go much deeper. There's employment law, creating a new governance structure for college sports, negotiation of complicated employment issues that pro sports spent decades figuring out — with the help of players as employees and collective bargaining. College sports, meanwhile, is trying to shove it all through the eye of a needle. With multiple voices and opinions. During the SEC spring meetings in May, exasperated SEC commissioner Greg Sankey, admitted, "I have people in my room asking, 'Why are we still in the NCAA?'' As it currently stands, there are two ways to fix the fallout of the last four years of paradigm change: make players employees and collectively bargain, or find significant revenue streams and reset the financial structure. University presidents don't want players as employees, because once down that road, players will collectively bargain and earn significantly more in media rights — and universities will earn significantly less. But if leaders of college sports don't want players as employees, and want Congress to implement liability protection from future lawsuits, what will they give in return to avoid an unending wave of litigation aimed at an association that over the years has failed spectacularly in court? Senators from the states of Idaho, Wyoming, New Mexico and the like – where smaller Bowl Subdivision programs will be at a greater disadvantage with the advent of revenue sharing – aren't going to for antitrust protection for the power conferences without financial gains that protect their respective universities. Campbell, for lack of a better explanation, will be the deal-maker — with the power of the presidency, the threat of antitrust law and a growing disdain for the evolving state of college sports behind him. None of his billion dollar deals of the past will have as much personal impact as this one. And here's the kicker: he doesn't need to do it. A majority of the holdings for Campbell and a group of private Texas Tech donors in the energy industry are in the Permian Basin, which is expected to account for nearly 50 percent of all U.S. oil production in 2026. They may as well be printing money. The Texas Tech softball team finished national runner up. The basketball team advanced to the Elite Eight of the NCAA men's tournament, and the football team just signed the No. 1 transfer portal class. 'The best thing that could happen to Texas Tech is the same system persists,' Campbell said. 'We are gaining ground on blue blood programs because we have donor money, and people willing to put it to work. Why would I do anything to fix things long term? I have no reason to do it other than the system, and the opportunity to change the trajectory of student athletes' lives and preserve the system long-term for more than 500,000 student athletes. This isn't a hobby, this has become my calling.' The unsustainable limit There was a time when BCS and CFP were hot-button acronyms of college football. Now it's ROI. Return On Investment. There are winners and losers in this new high stakes game of throwing cash at the right players. And boosters who aren't seeing an agreeable return on their investments – success and/or individual production – are beginning to get out. USA TODAY Sports spoke with more than 10 boosters at high profile power conference schools, and only one outside of Campbell would talk on the record about the fluid crapshoot that is NIL and paying players. Every booster contacted said there's a limit to the giving — and it's arriving sooner than later. 'NIL space for boosters is like throwing money into a deep, dark hole with little to no return on the investment,' said Florida booster Gary Condron. 'Nobody likes this. Not athletic directors, not coaches, not boosters. The only ones who like it are the players, and the attorneys and agents.' Condron, 67, like Campbell, is self-made and worked multiple jobs to pay his way through college. He walked on to play baseball at Florida in the mid-1970s, and his career was cut short from a rotator cuff injury. But he earned his degree in building construction, and not long after founded a construction firm that specializes in light industrial structures. His firm is one of the leading builders for Amazon's distribution centers around the country. It's that process, Condron says, that grind and perseverance, that gets lost in the immediate satisfaction of pay for play — especially when high school players are paid before ever stepping on the field. 'I came from a family that didn't have two nickels to rub together,' Condron said. 'If I had an opportunity to eat at the training table (at Florida) it was a blessing for me. If you saw what kids get today, the hair on your neck would stand up. I don't know how much longer I can (fund NIL) unless we get some guardrails.' The House settlement already has begun to build some guardrails, by sheer luck or evolution. The settlement allows for private NIL deals, but has no specific language about how those contracts are written. So boosters are taking the next move in protecting their investments. They're using buyouts for players who leave early, and forcing schools who sign those players to pay the full terms of the contract left behind. That simple fix – as long as a majority of power conference schools use similar contract language – will have a profound impact on controlling costs and player movement. But that's only part of the problem. 'We have to change the economic model. Ninety percent of the people I talk to agree with that,' Campbell said. 'We can easily create a model where the SEC and Big Ten make significantly more money than they do now, and where everybody else is above the poverty line. Where the rising tide lifts all boats.' Campbell's argument is simple: if big money and the transfer portal can help struggling programs advance to the college football holy land, why can't that same big money from a pooled media rights contract and a standalone CFP deal help non-power conference schools save opportunities for all athletes by protecting women's and Olympic sports? 'Why would we want to diminish opportunity?' Campbell said. "The goal is to create it." Earlier this spring, Campbell stood outside the entrance of a posh Fort Worth, Texas, hotel, trying to find a way to explain the importance of his mission. A valet pulled his late model Chevy Suburban into the half circle drive, a hard-working thorn unapologetically pushing through the beautiful parade of high-dollar European vehicles. The reality is not lost on the moment. Money changes everything. If Indiana, the armpit of college football for more than a century, can win 11 games in 2024 – its first double-digit win season in 126 years of the program – and advance to the CFP, why can't Memphis? If SMU, which hasn't been among the college football elite since its rogue Southwest Conference days in the 1980s, hadn't paid $200 million to join the ACC — would it have still reached the CFP last season as a member of the American Athletic Conference? What does a billionaire businessman know about fixing college football, you ask? 'I think some people feel like if they sabotage the White House project that I'm just going to go away. Well, I'm not,' Campbell said. 'I have enough money to have my own lobbying effort.' What does a billionaire businessman know about fixing college football, you ask? Enough to know that change on the field is insignificant compared to the need for future change in all of college sports. 'I'm very confident the ideas I have are well researched and correct,' he continued. 'They're workable and won't hurt anyone. And won't wreak havoc on the system.' Or the exact opposite of the last four years. Matt Hayes is the senior national college football writer for USA TODAY Sports Network. Follow him on X at @MattHayesCFB. This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Texas Tech booster Cody Campbell wants to save college sports
USA Today
08-07-2025
- USA Today
Meet Cody Campbell, the billionaire Texas Tech booster with plan to save college sports
DALLAS — He doesn't need this. He can walk away right now, and leave the unseemly unraveling of college sports to someone else. Hop on a plane and escape Washington D.C. and the land of everybody's got an angle, and be home in the DFW Metroplex in a matter of hours. An amateur sports world of turmoil in his wake. Or he could do what he has always done. Fix the problem. 'I've built and sold $15 billion worth of companies,' Cody Campbell says. 'I'm not a dumbass.' Of all the upheaval, of all the unthinkable moves over the last four years that have drastically changed college sports, none would be more improbable than this. A deep-pocket booster, a capital investment savant, saving college football – and by proxy, college sports – from itself. He knows what you're thinking. What does a billionaire businessman, a Texas Tech sports sugar daddy, know about saving college football? The logical response: what do university presidents know? Because they're the men and women in charge of it all now — and doing a catastrophically poor job of it. Cody Campbell part of Donald Trump's team Campbell, 43, sees the dichotomy of it all, and at this point, the only thing that matters is the most powerful man in the world believes Campbell has a chance to assess the problems of college sports – with its front porch money-maker, football – and fix it. Though the White House hasn't officially announced it, President Trump and Campbell – a former offensive lineman at Texas Tech in the early 2000s – have spoken at length about how to fix the problems of the last four years of paradigm change within college sports. Change that seems to inevitably lead to the downsize, and in some cases, the elimination, of women's and Olympic sports. There won't be a commission, as had been previously reported. A person close to the process, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, told USA TODAY Sports that it will follow much in the same way Trump deals with other problems: he finds a point person, and that person reports directly to him. When asked if he were that person, Campbell said, "I've been in conversations with President Trump for quite some time now, and the one thing I can tell you is he cares very much about preserving and maintaining college sports. Not just football, but women's sports and Olympic sports, and the opportunities they provide. It's one of the best things we have culturally in this country. "I don't want to see it die. And we can all see it's dying.' MORE SPORTS: IMG Academy CEO: Why colleges should add teams after House settlement Cody Campbell part of problem and solution? It is here where we address the obvious. The same person who will be charged with finding the fix to a myriad of issues, is the same booster who has been, in the eyes of many, part of the problem. This time last year, Campbell – through the Texas Tech Matador Club collective – was busy convincing All-America pitcher NiJaree Canady to leave Stanford for a record-breaking million-dollar NIL deal. Leave the history and tradition of Stanford softball, for the great unknown in Lubbock, Texas. A deal that quickly became the very definition of college sports losing its way. And soul. A year later, Tech advanced to its first Women's College World Series behind Canady, and lost in the championship series to rival Texas. And that's only the shallow end of a deep and committed dive for Campbell and a handful of private Texas Tech donors. But these are the rules laid out by those currently running college sports. There's no rhyme or reason, no definitive lines to color between. So Campbell and his donor group, like many others, take advantage of them. They know the rules, they're playing the game. They're chasing the Big Ten and SEC, the two super conferences who have seized control of the present and future of college sports. There's currently only one way for schools in other conferences to reach them and compete at the same level. With cold, hard cash. Cody Campbell isn't just trying to fix Texas Tech Campbell knows what a win over Texas in the Women's CWS would've meant to Texas Tech, and what a College Football Playoff run this season will mean. He and his donor group have invested more than $300 million in facilities upgrades for the football program, and currently have $55 million in NIL contracts for all Texas Tech athletes for the 2025 season — a number believed to be the largest (by far) in the NCAA. And that's the irony of this story. Campbell doesn't need to jump into the cesspool of D.C. politics, or massage the egos of the big personalities of college sports and their insular nature of self-protection. He could just keep throwing hundreds of millions at Texas Tech and attempt to buy championships, and avoid all the agita. But this is much bigger than that. This is about sports and society, and protecting a unique opportunity for all ― not just for the 34 schools in the Big Ten and SEC, or other universities fortunate enough to have deep-pocket boosters to bridge any financial divide. "When he dives into something to fix it, there's no stone left unturned," says Texas Tech football coach Joey McGuire. "He's going to find a way." There's a reason officials in the Big Ten and SEC recoil at the mention of Campbell. It's not just his brash use of existing NIL rules, but his public declarations that college sports is dying with a current caste system of winners and losers. The winners: the Big Ten and SEC, with their billion-dollar media rights deals separating them from the rest of college sports. The losers: everyone else, with media rights deals less than half of what the Big Ten and SEC earn. The reorganization of college sports over the last four years is all about money. Those making it, and those losing it. But Campbell has a different idea: share the wealth, increase revenue and watch college sports grow like never before. What does a billionaire businessman know about saving college sports, you ask? More than you think. Cody Campbell is built for job of saving college sports This story begins two generations ago, where Bill Cagle, Campbell's maternal grandfather, grew up in hardscrabble Childers, Texas. His family lived through the Dust Bowl in the 1930s, persevering through an ecological disaster in the Texas panhandle despite the barest of necessities. Cagle made it out because he played football, earning a scholarship to Hardin-Simmons when it played in the old Division I Border Conference. Cagle, a member of the school's Hall of Fame, was also captain of the baseball and track and field teams. A true Texas legend. Campbell's dad, Cliff, grew up in tiny Haskell, Texas, and was the first on side of the family to go to college. A mega recruit long before the days of recruiting rankings, if Cliff didn't play football, he never would've seen the inside of a classroom at Texas Tech. Then there's Cody, who was part of coach Mike Leach's first recruiting class at Texas Tech. A four-year letterman at Tech, Campbell had a cup of coffee in the NFL with the Indianapolis Colts before deciding to use the business degree he earned. His latest business move this spring with partner John Sellers, another former Texas Tech football player and booster: selling some of their energy company's assets in the Permian, Texas oil basin for $4 billion. His two deals prior to that: $2.8 billion (2017) and $6.4 billion (2021). It's hard to find a better example of the value of a college education and the college sports experience – the very thing Campbell and many others within higher education believe is lost in the reshaping of amateur sports – than the Campbell family tree. And what's getting lost, Campbell says, is the hundreds of thousands of stories over the years just like his. Some with significantly more difficult beginnings, and equally inspiring success. The sea change in college sports College sports was once a personal investment on and off the field, a grind of four or five difficult but rewarding years that shaped a future. Now it's monetarily transactional, a way station to the path of least resistance. 'I met my wife, met all of my best friends, and my life is what it is because I had the opportunity to play college football,' Campbell said. 'I feel like I owe it to the system, to the institution of college sports, to try to help fix it and make it work again.' The plan to make it work begins and ends with the Sports Broadcasting Act of 1961, which provides limited antitrust exemptions for sports leagues and allows them to pool media rights to sell collectively. Campbell believes the four power conferences can pool their collective rights and generate significantly more revenue. The Big Ten and SEC, for numerous reasons – for starters, control of their brands and television windows on their own networks – want no part of it. Or as one high-ranking SEC official, who spoke to USA TODAY Sports on the condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the discussions, said: 'Why would we share revenue when we have the product that bears the fruit, and others don't?' Currently, the Big Ten, SEC, ACC and Big 12 earn an estimated $3 billion combined annually from media rights. But a high-placed industry official told USA TODAY Sports on the condition of anonymity due to the nature of the subject that a single-payer system (pooled rights) could double the current value of the combined power conference deals. 'But they can't even agree on how many (conference) games to play,' the industry official said. 'Do you really think they can agree on something like single payer?' They may not have a choice. The ink on the landmark House case settlement – which has ushered in revenue sharing between schools and players, and the need for increased revenue across college sports to pay for it – wasn't even dry before multiple appeals were filed, including former athletes claiming Title IX violations in the disbursement of $2.8 billion backpay to former players. But it's the lawsuits that haven't been filed that concern the presidents and chancellors of the power conferences. The House settlement also set the framework for private NIL deals that are not part of the university's allowed maximum revenue share pool of $20.5 million for all athletes. An accounting firm will decide 'fair market value' for those private NIL deals, which will unquestionably be the difference in many high school and transfer portal signings. The firm has the power to cancel such deals it deems unfit. Needless to say, a fair market arbiter in a free market economy is rife with legal pitfalls. This is where the federal government comes into play — and where Campbell and Trump's focus on college sports can help sherpa legislation through a deeply divided Congress. But at a price. In the simplest of terms, if the SEC and Big Ten want protection from lawsuits and federal antitrust laws – officials from both conferences have had double-digit meetings with Congress over the last four years, begging for help – they'll listen and negotiate and come to a viable agreement. At least, in theory. Because getting their collective arms around this beast won't be easy. The threat of antitrust and Title IX lawsuits are one thing, the tentacles from those big picture problems go much deeper. There's employment law, creating a new governance structure for college sports, negotiation of complicated employment issues that pro sports spent decades figuring out — with the help of players as employees and collective bargaining. College sports, meanwhile, is trying to shove it all through the eye of a needle. With multiple voices and opinions. During the SEC spring meetings in May, exasperated SEC commissioner Greg Sankey, admitted, "I have people in my room asking, 'Why are we still in the NCAA?'' As it currently stands, there are two ways to fix the fallout of the last four years of paradigm change: make players employees and collectively bargain, or find significant revenue streams and reset the financial structure. University presidents don't want players as employees, because once down that road, players will collectively bargain and earn significantly more in media rights — and universities will earn significantly less. But if leaders of college sports don't want players as employees, and want Congress to implement liability protection from future lawsuits, what will they give in return to avoid an unending wave of litigation aimed at an association that over the years has failed spectacularly in court? Senators from the states of Idaho, Wyoming, New Mexico and the like – where smaller Bowl Subdivision programs will be at a greater disadvantage with the advent of revenue sharing – aren't going to for antitrust protection for the power conferences without financial gains that protect their respective universities. Campbell, for lack of a better explanation, will be the deal-maker — with the power of the presidency, the threat of antitrust law and a growing disdain for the evolving state of college sports behind him. None of his billion dollar deals of the past will have as much personal impact as this one. And here's the kicker: he doesn't need to do it. A majority of the holdings for Campbell and a group of private Texas Tech donors in the energy industry are in the Permian Basin, which is expected to account for nearly 50 percent of all U.S. oil production in 2026. They may as well be printing money. The Texas Tech softball team finished national runner up. The basketball team advanced to the Elite Eight of the NCAA men's tournament, and the football team just signed the No. 1 transfer portal class. 'The best thing that could happen to Texas Tech is the same system persists,' Campbell said. 'We are gaining ground on blue blood programs because we have donor money, and people willing to put it to work. Why would I do anything to fix things long term? I have no reason to do it other than the system, and the opportunity to change the trajectory of student athletes' lives and preserve the system long-term for more than 500,000 student athletes. This isn't a hobby, this has become my calling.' The unsustainable limit There was a time when BCS and CFP were hot-button acronyms of college football. Now it's ROI. Return On Investment. There are winners and losers in this new high stakes game of throwing cash at the right players. And boosters who aren't seeing an agreeable return on their investments – success and/or individual production – are beginning to get out. USA TODAY Sports spoke with more than 10 boosters at high profile power conference schools, and only one outside of Campbell would talk on the record about the fluid crapshoot that is NIL and paying players. Every booster contacted said there's a limit to the giving — and it's arriving sooner than later. 'NIL space for boosters is like throwing money into a deep, dark hole with little to no return on the investment,' said Florida booster Gary Condron. 'Nobody likes this. Not athletic directors, not coaches, not boosters. The only ones who like it are the players, and the attorneys and agents.' Condron, 67, like Campbell, is self-made and worked multiple jobs to pay his way through college. He walked on to play baseball at Florida in the mid-1970s, and his career was cut short from a rotator cuff injury. But he earned his degree in building construction, and not long after founded a construction firm that specializes in light industrial structures. His firm is one of the leading builders for Amazon's distribution centers around the country. It's that process, Condron says, that grind and perseverance, that gets lost in the immediate satisfaction of pay for play — especially when high school players are paid before ever stepping on the field. 'I came from a family that didn't have two nickels to rub together,' Condron said. 'If I had an opportunity to eat at the training table (at Florida) it was a blessing for me. If you saw what kids get today, the hair on your neck would stand up. I don't know how much longer I can (fund NIL) unless we get some guardrails.' The House settlement already has begun to build some guardrails, by sheer luck or evolution. The settlement allows for private NIL deals, but has no specific language about how those contracts are written. So boosters are taking the next move in protecting their investments. They're using buyouts for players who leave early, and forcing schools who sign those players to pay the full terms of the contract left behind. That simple fix – as long as a majority of power conference schools use similar contract language – will have a profound impact on controlling costs and player movement. But that's only part of the problem. 'We have to change the economic model. Ninety percent of the people I talk to agree with that,' Campbell said. 'We can easily create a model where the SEC and Big Ten make significantly more money than they do now, and where everybody else is above the poverty line. Where the rising tide lifts all boats.' Campbell's argument is simple: if big money and the transfer portal can help struggling programs advance to the college football holy land, why can't that same big money from a pooled media rights contract and a standalone CFP deal help non-power conference schools save opportunities for all athletes by protecting women's and Olympic sports? 'Why would we want to diminish opportunity?' Campbell said. "The goal is to create it." Earlier this spring, Campbell stood outside the entrance of a posh Fort Worth, Texas, hotel, trying to find a way to explain the importance of his mission. A valet pulled his late model Chevy Suburban into the half circle drive, a hard-working thorn unapologetically pushing through the beautiful parade of high-dollar European vehicles. The reality is not lost on the moment. Money changes everything. If Indiana, the armpit of college football for more than a century, can win 11 games in 2024 – its first double-digit win season in 126 years of the program – and advance to the CFP, why can't Memphis? If SMU, which hasn't been among the college football elite since its rogue Southwest Conference days in the 1980s, hadn't paid $200 million to join the ACC — would it have still reached the CFP last season as a member of the American Athletic Conference? What does a billionaire businessman know about fixing college football, you ask? 'I think some people feel like if they sabotage the White House project that I'm just going to go away. Well, I'm not,' Campbell said. 'I have enough money to have my own lobbying effort.' What does a billionaire businessman know about fixing college football, you ask? Enough to know that change on the field is insignificant compared to the need for future change in all of college sports. 'I'm very confident the ideas I have are well researched and correct,' he continued. 'They're workable and won't hurt anyone. And won't wreak havoc on the system.' Or the exact opposite of the last four years. Matt Hayes is the senior national college football writer for USA TODAY Sports Network. Follow him on X at @MattHayesCFB.
Yahoo
03-07-2025
- Yahoo
Mass. AG Campbell sues Trump admin for sharing private health info with ICE
Massachusetts Attorney General Andrea J. Campbell has opened another front in her ongoing legal battle with the Trump administration, charging that the Republican White House exposed private health information as it prosecutes its mass deportation campaign. The lawsuit, filed by Democrat Campbell and 19 of her colleagues nationwide, in U.S. District Court in California's Northern District on Tuesday, names U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Robert K. Kennedy Jr. and U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi L. Noem as defendants. "Disclosing individuals' private health data for the purpose of immigration enforcement puts lives at risk. These actions are yet another example of the Administration creating unnecessary fear and confusion among our residents,' Campbell said in a statement. Read More: Renowned Boston restaurant considers closing after manager is detained by ICE 'Congress has made it clear that emergency Medicaid coverage extends to all individuals, regardless of immigration status. I will continue to fight against cruel and unlawful policies that harm our residents,' she said. Kennedy's advisers ordered the release of a dataset that includes the private health information of people living in California, Illinois, Washington state, and Washington, D.C., to the Department of Homeland Security, The Associated Press first reported last month. All of those states allow non-U.S. citizens to enroll in Medicaid programs that pay for their expenses using only state taxpayer dollars. Read More: Mass. AG Campbell sues Trump over obscure rule used to withhold federal funding to states The unusual data sharing of private health information, including addresses, names, social security numbers, immigration status, and claims data for enrollees in those states, was released to deportation officials as they accelerated enforcement efforts nationwide. The data could be used to help the Department of Homeland Security locate migrants in its mass deportation campaign, experts said. California Attorney General Rob Bonta, who led the legal action, said the Trump administration's data release violates federal health privacy protection laws, including the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), the AP reported. 'This is about flouting seven decades of federal law policy and practice that have made it clear that personal healthcare data is confidential and can only be shared in certain narrow circumstances that benefit the public's health or the Medicaid program,' Bonta said during a news conference on Tuesday. The Trump administration has sought to arm deportation officials with more data on immigrants. In May, for example, a federal judge refused to block the Internal Revenue Service from sharing immigrants' tax data with Immigration and Customs Enforcement to help agents locate and detain people living without legal status in the U.S. The lawsuit filed by Campbell and her colleagues asks a federal judge to block any new transfer or use of this data for immigration enforcement purposes. It argues that the administration violated a brace of federal laws, including the Administrative Procedure Act, Social Security Act, Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), Federal Information Security Modernization Act, Privacy Act, and Spending Clause. The lawsuit also 'highlights that the Trump Administration's illegal actions are creating fear and confusion that will lead noncitizens and their family members to disenroll, or refuse to enroll, in emergency Medicaid for which they are otherwise eligible, leaving states and their safety net hospitals to foot the bill for federally mandated emergency healthcare services,' Cambell's office said in its statement. Other states joining the legal action included Arizona, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Minnesota, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont, and Washington. Trump threatens arrest of NYC mayoral candidate during visit to 'Alligator Alcatraz' Mass. has an on-time(ish) state budget: 3 big things to know about the $61B plan Here's how Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene described support for Trump's 'big beautiful bill' Group behind MCAS ballot question broke campaign finance law, state says Wisconsin Supreme Court strikes down 1849 total abortion ban Read the original article on MassLive.
