NIL, the Portal, and the Final Four
A Love Story with Complications
I love college basketball.
Let me say that again—I love college basketball. The sound of sneakers squeaking on hardwood, the pageantry of the bands, the thrill of a buzzer-beater, the heartbreak of a #2 seed getting knocked out by a scrappy #15—this is pure sports theater at its best. It’s a beautiful blend of youth, hope, hustle, and just enough unpredictability to keep you glued to your screen or, if you're lucky, the bleachers.
But now, like many longtime fans, I’m torn. The era of NIL (Name, Image, and Likeness) and the transfer portal has given us a new world where athletes can finally earn what they’re worth—and they should. Still, there's a creeping worry I can’t shake: Are mid-major programs becoming mere farm teams for the big-money schools in the power conferences? Are we watching the slow fade of the Cinderella story?
As the Final Four looms this weekend, with bluebloods and big spenders at the dance—Duke, Florida, Houston, and Auburn—we’re getting a front-row seat to what this new landscape looks like. And make no mistake: this tournament isn’t just about matchups on the court anymore. It’s about how NIL money, the transfer portal, and savvy roster management are shaping the modern game.
The NIL Revolution
Until 2021, the NCAA held a firm line: student-athletes were amateurs and couldn’t profit from their name, image, or likeness. That wall crumbled under legal pressure, public support, and a changing cultural tide. Today, athletes can strike endorsement deals, monetize social media, host training camps, and even start businesses. And many are cashing in—big.
Case in point? Arch Manning, still in college, now sports a valuation north of $6.6 million thanks to a deal with Red Bull. That’s not a typo. College athletes are building brands and banking serious money before even turning pro. That’s transformative—and long overdue.
But here’s the wrinkle: this money isn’t evenly distributed. The programs with deeper donor pockets and more aggressive collectives are now recruiting with something far more tangible than tradition—they're offering compensation packages.
The Transfer Portal Tsunami
Alongside NIL came another accelerant: the transfer portal. No longer do athletes need to sit out a year after switching schools. Now, if a player isn’t getting minutes—or if a bigger, richer school comes calling—they can pack their bags and head for greener pastures immediately.
This year alone, over 1,000 men's basketball players entered the transfer portal in the first 48 hours it opened. It’s free agency in all but name.
What’s the result? Teams can rebuild—and reload—at warp speed. A bad season doesn’t necessarily mean a long-term rebuild. Just hit the portal, sprinkle in some NIL money, and presto: instant contender.
Final Four: A Window Into the Future
Let’s talk about the Final Four. If you’re wondering whether the elite teams used the portal to fill key gaps, the answer is yes—with the notable exception of Duke.
Here’s a breakdown:
Duke has stuck with the old-school formula: recruit elite freshmen and develop them. Players like Cooper Flagg, Kon Knueppel, and Khaman Maluach are all part of a monster recruiting class—and Duke hasn’t relied on transfers to get here.
Florida went the opposite route. Transfer players like Walter Clayton Jr. and Thomas Haugh were crucial to their run, including their stunning comeback win over Texas Tech in the Elite Eight. They used the portal as a fast track back to national relevance.
Houston blended transfer talent and homegrown players masterfully. Their 16-game win streak wasn’t just luck—it was roster chemistry and savvy coaching, helped by the freedom to add the right pieces through the portal.
Auburn, like Florida and Houston, found a mix that worked. While specific transfer contributions are less in the news for them, their return to the Final Four suggests a program that’s not afraid to adapt.
According to CBS Sports, transfer players scored 53% of the total points in the tournament through the Sweet 16. Think about that. More than half the production came from players who had previously suited up for other schools. That’s not a tweak—that’s a transformation.
The Disappearing Cinderella?
Here’s where the story takes a bittersweet turn. For years, March Madness was where the little guys could rise. George Mason. VCU. Florida Gulf Coast. Loyola Chicago. St. Peter’s. These weren’t just good basketball teams—they were the soul of the tournament.
But in 2025, for the first time since 2008, the Final Four is made up of all No. 1 seeds. That’s exciting for some, but it’s also a warning light for those of us who cherish the unpredictable nature of March.
Will mid-majors still get their shot, or will their best players be lured away by bigger brands with deeper NIL war chests? Will fans in small markets still rally around hometown heroes, or will those heroes jump to a power conference before they ever get a second dance?
A New Era—With Trade-offs
I’m not calling for a return to the old days. College athletes should absolutely benefit from the billions their sports generate. NIL rights are a form of justice that was too long delayed.
But like every new system, this one comes with trade-offs.
Yes, we’ve gained fairness and opportunity—but maybe we’ve lost a bit of magic in the process. Maybe the road from “One Shining Moment” now requires an NIL collective and a portal pitch deck.
Still, I’ll be watching this weekend. And I’ll be cheering. I just might also be mourning the world we left behind.