As another college football season winds down, there is nearly as much talk of conference realignment and television packages as there is of wins and losses. The Big Ten, already earning more than $240 million a year from its own TV network, recently added two more media markets by inviting Maryland and Rutgers to join the conference, and the ACC, in turn, latched on to Louisville.
The bounty of earnings from big-time college sports would be unthinkable without the millions of fans eager to watch games on TV, in real time. Surveys suggest there are some 75 million Americans who follow college football alone. The New York Times Nate Silver estimates that Ohio State by itself has more than 3 million fans, while newly added Maryland has only 474,000.
But the significance in these vast numbers of fans goes beyond their undisputed commercial importance. For many of these fans whether they attend games in person or tune in on television there exists a bond to their favorite universities that runs far deeper than the brand loyalties consumers may feel for the products they buy. Its devotion, pure and simple.
While doing research for a book about big-time college sports. I discovered fresh evidence of this devotion in an unusual place obituaries.
These published accounts, normally written by a loved one rather than a journalist, are the closest thing to a biography most of us will ever have. Not only do they provide information about a persons family, education and employment, most also add details about hobbies and personal interests. I was surprised to discover how many obituaries mention college sports teams, and the devotion people have toward them.
Some examples: He loved fishing and spending time with family and friends as well as showing his love for his Crimson Tide. Everything came to a halt when her beloved Sooners played. Till the very last, she would don Fighting Irish sweat bands, turn on the game and fret over every play.
To find out more about devoted fans like these, I searched online for fans of different universities, focusing on teams with distinctive nicknames. I did searches for 26 different universities across the country, gathering 50 obituaries each, for a total of 1,300.
The departed are described as a loyal Illini fan, a passionate KU Jayhawks fan, a dyed-in-the-wool Nebraska Cornhusker fan, a Tar Heel through and through, and always and forever an avid Gator fan.
True to type, men outnumbered women in these 1,300 obituaries, by a three-to-one margin, but there is no stereotyping these men: [He] was an easy going Polish boy who loved the Packers, Badgers, polka music and most of all his grandchildren. He was a gardener and woodworker, a voracious reader, and an avid Hawkeye supporter. He could often be found watching his beloved UT Longhorns in a three point stance.
A third of the fans in my sample were alumni. For example, He enrolled at Texas A&M and earned a B.S. degree in agriculture in 1939. For the rest of his life remained a loyal Aggie is there any other kind?
But many more of these devoted fans were linked only by geography, with more than three-fourths having lived in the state where the university is. In fact, a lot of these fans never attended college at all. Occupations ran the gamut, from CEOs and lawyers to welders and truck drivers.
A few obituaries asked that mourners dress in team colors. One stated: The family requests, if possible, anyone attending calling hours wear something to honor his love of the Buckeyes. (Yes, even Michigan fans.)
What these obituaries reveal is that fans are not merely customers. It may seem silly, but the loyal fan feels an authentic emotional bond to his beloved Terps or her beloved UCLA Bruins. These fans represent a populist connection linking otherwise inaccessible academic institutions to ordinary citizens. And it happens only in America, because only here do universities engage in commercial sports.
To be sure, these bonds of devotion can tempt universities to compromise important principles on the way to a winning season. But they also may bolster political support for Americas great flagship universities. For good or ill, they are a force to be reckoned with.
Ultimately, they demonstrate a reality that many professors like me may be reluctant to admit: universities are not just about teaching and research, but sports and devotion, too.
Charles Clotfelter is a professor at Duke Universitys Sanford School of Public Policy and author of Big-Time Sports in American Universities..