Commitment crumbles as unlimited transfers and NIL cash shatter college football's foundation. Loyalty is a relic; rosters now reset for the highest bidder.
College football used to mean something more than wins and losses.
It was about commitment.
It was about growth.
It was about a player choosing a school, a program choosing that player, and both sides accepting that the journey would not always be easy. The transfer portal has shattered that foundation, and the sport is worse because of it.
What was once sold as a “player empowerment” tool has turned into unrestricted free agency without contracts, accountability, or structure. Players no longer have to be loyal. They no longer have to fight for a role. They no longer have to wait their turn. If things get hard, if playing time doesn’t come fast enough, if a bigger check is waved in front of them, they’re gone.
And they can leave whenever they want.
The idea of committing to a program for three or four years is almost laughable now, and it's certainly rare. Development , once the backbone of college football, has become optional. Why grind through spring ball as a backup when you can enter the portal and be promised a starting job somewhere else? Why learn a system, build chemistry, and grow under a coaching staff when the portal offers instant gratification, and maybe even an instant payout?
The portal has turned patience into a weakness.
Coaches used to preach development arcs: redshirt, special teams, rotational snaps, then finally your moment. Now, players expect immediate returns.
If they don’t get them, they’re encouraged, sometimes by their own inner circle, to shop around.
College football rosters reset every offseason, not because players graduate, but because they get restless.
And let’s be honest: money is at the center of it all.
Name, Image, and Likeness was supposed to allow players to profit off who they are. Instead, it has become pay-for-play disguised as opportunity. The portal and NIL together have created a system where players jump ship not for education, not for culture, but for the highest bidder.
Recruiting never ends.
Tampering is rampant.
Promises are made quietly, broken loudly, and rarely punished.
There is no loyalty because the system doesn’t reward it.
Fans are told to understand. To adapt. To stop expecting players to care about the logo on their uniform.
But fandom is built on connection. When rosters change entirely every year, when star players leave as soon as they break out, when depth charts feel temporary, it becomes harder to care. Why buy the jersey when the name on the back will be gone by next season?
College football is losing its identity, the very thing that made it different from the NFL.
This constant turnover also hurts the sport on the field.
Teams don’t develop cohesion.
Offensive lines take years to gel, but now those units are patched together with portal pieces.
Quarterbacks bounce from system to system, never mastering one.
Defensive communication suffers.
Chemistry is rushed, not built.
And while stars may benefit, the middle-tier players often get lost. For every success story, there are dozens of players who transfer, don’t play, transfer again, and fade out of the sport entirely.
The portal promises opportunity, but it doesn’t guarantee stability.
Even coaches are trapped in the chaos. They recruit high school players while re-recruiting their own roster every offseason. They have to promise playing time they can’t guarantee, compete financially with collectives they don’t control, and rebuild culture annually.
How do you build accountability when players can leave the moment they’re challenged?
You can’t.
College football used to teach players how to handle adversity. Now it teaches them how to avoid it.
This isn’t about denying players rights or pretending the old system was perfect.
It wasn’t. But swinging the pendulum this far has created a sport with no guardrails. No contracts. No sit-out requirements. No commitment beyond the next offer.
The transfer portal didn’t level the playing field , it tilted it. The rich get richer. The patient often get punished. And the soul of college football continues to fade.
At some point, the sport has to decide what it wants to be.
Because right now, it’s not college football anymore.
It’s a semi-pro league wearing campus colors, asking fans to care about teams that barely exist long enough to recognize.
And that’s the real loss.