Chaos grips college football. Only Nick Saban possesses the vision and authority to restore order, navigate NIL, and mend the fractured sport.
College football is spiraling.
Everyone knows it.
Coaches know it.
Players feel it.
Fans are exhausted by it.
The sport is louder, richer, and more powerful than it has ever been, yet somehow more disorganized, more fractured, and more directionless than at any point in its history.
And that’s why one name keeps coming up, again and again, whenever the conversation turns to fixing college football:
Nick Saban.
Saban has been sounding the alarm for years.
Long before he retired.
Long before NIL exploded.
Long before the transfer portal became a revolving door.
He warned that college football was heading toward chaos without leadership. He openly advocated for a college football commissioner, someone with real authority, real structure, and real teeth, to bring order to a sport that currently has none.
And he’s not wrong.
Right now, college football is the wild west.
NIL operates without national standards.
The transfer portal functions like free agency without contracts.
The calendar is bloated and exhausting.
Recruiting never stops.
Tampering is obvious and often times, unchecked.
Conferences act in their own self-interest.
The NCAA is either powerless or absent, depending on the issue.
There is no adult in the room.
Nick Saban understands this sport better than anyone alive. Not just from a coaching perspective, but from every angle. He’s coached under multiple rule eras. He’s adapted to scholarship limits, tempo changes, playoff expansions, NIL, and the portal. He’s seen how decisions impact players, coaches, universities, and fans.
Most importantly, he understands consequences.
That’s what college football is missing right now. Accountability. Structure. Guardrails.
When Saban talks about a commissioner, he’s not talking about control for control’s sake. He’s talking about protecting the sport from itself. He’s talking about creating uniform NIL guidelines so players aren’t being quietly turned into mercenaries. He’s talking about transfer rules that allow movement, but don’t reward impulsiveness or impatience, or punish development. He’s talking about a calendar that makes sense for athletes who are supposed to be students, not year-round professionals.
He has even said publicly, that if asked, he would help.
That alone should tell you everything.
Saban has also been honest about his hesitation.
The job would be brutal. Political. Thankless.
Everyone would hate you at some point. Sound familiar? It’s exactly why fans compare the role to that of NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. Someone who isn’t there to be liked, but to keep the league functional.
And that’s precisely why Saban fits it.
College football doesn’t need a figurehead.
It doesn’t need another committee.
It doesn’t need conference commissioners pulling in opposite directions. It needs a single voice that understands football, respects tradition, and isn’t afraid to make unpopular decisions for the long-term health of the game.
Nick Saban has never chased popularity.
He chased, and created, standards.
He believes in earning roles.
In development.
In structure.
In rules that apply to everyone, not just the loudest programs or richest collectives.
He believes that adversity matters, that it shapes players into professionals and men. His belief runs directly counter to the current system, where avoiding adversity is often rewarded.
Imagine a college football world where NIL had clear boundaries.
Where the transfer portal had windows, limits, and accountability.
Where tampering had consequences.
Where the calendar prioritized player health.
Where competitive balance mattered again.
That doesn’t mean players lose their voice. It means the sport regains its spine.
Nick Saban doesn’t have to be the commissioner to change college football, but his voice should be the one leading the conversation.
Because unlike administrators who have never worn a headset or stood in a locker room, Saban understands the human cost of chaos: broken development, fractured teams, and a sport slowly losing its identity.
College football is at a crossroads.
One path leads to full-blown semi-pro football with no rules, no loyalty, and no identity.
The other leads to reform, not regression, not control, but balance.
If college football truly wants saving, it needs leadership rooted in experience, not convenience.
And whether or not he ever takes the title, Nick Saban remains the closest thing this sport has to a commissioner it can actually trust.