Parity has taken some of the appeal away for me, though I know that is not true for everyone. Fans of smaller or weaker programs are probably more engaged now, which is a positive for them. From my view, though, it has flattened the sport and removed the sense of dominance and excellence that once defined the top teams.
This shift sets the stage for a deeper issue. Once the competitive landscape became more level, the forces shaping player behavior and team culture began to matter more than the games themselves.
With NIL, many top players are earning as much as, or more than, position coaches. Because of that, they often feel less pressure to listen or develop under coaching the way players once did. If another program offers more money, they can leave quickly. That dynamic weakens the mentor relationship and shifts the focus from growth to short-term gain.
The effects of NIL do not stop with money alone. When financial incentives are tied directly to individual players, the idea of building something over time starts to break down.
The transfer portal adds to this problem. Players can move almost freely, so teams are rarely deep or stable. That lack of continuity makes it hard to build chemistry, which usually takes more than one season. The constant turnover hurts overall play, and the product on the field feels worse than it did before 2020. Systems never fully settle, and players often look unsure or disconnected on the field.
Taken together, these changes reshape what a program even means. Stability and shared identity matter less when rosters can turn over so quickly.
Together, NIL and the transfer portal have reduced loyalty. Players may wear the uniform of a school in Tuscaloosa, but they do not feel connected to the University of Alabama itself, or to the program’s identity. It feels more like a temporary business arrangement than being part of something larger or lasting.