
Penn State made it 21 days into the new fiscal year before it shot itself in the foot.
A single game hasn’t been played. There have been no soul-crushing losses. No key player has transferred out.
On the 21st day of the new athletic calendar year, Penn State instead has egg on its face. The men’s basketball coach admitted he’s got no support and instead the athletic program wants your support in the form of a grift known as the blockchain.
Twenty-one days into this school year.
I wish that I could tell you I’m surprised. I wish that I could tell you that I can’t believe Penn State put itself into these situations.
But I’m not. This seems to be the new normal.
Slap a logo here, sell out the soul of the place there, bamboozle fans into believing the “field naming rights” deal really isn’t a stadium naming rights.
It’s par for the course of late. Penn State seems to find every single avenue of revenue it wants – even if that means something that Penn State fans themselves would never want, use or need.
Its latest venture was announced on the 21st day. Penn State was joining four other schools in a blockchain partnership with Socios.com.
Now, Penn State fans could “interact with their beloved team in ways that were previously impossible.” A token, exchanged for hard-earned American dollars, could take my Penn State fandom to a new level by letting me join in “official polls” that “directly” support “NIL program-specific polls.”
I can not sit here and explain the blockchain to you. It is not entirely a lack of understanding, but rather a lack of willingness to learn what the blockchain is sold as. And if I wanted to rely on the lazily written – and likely AI-generated – press release that I’m not sure anyone based in the United States (note the British spellings throughout) let alone Happy Valley looked at, I do not have any clearer understanding now.
I do know that – once you weed through the press release riddled with mistakes and void of American-style writing – the concept of a blockchain appears to be a key piece in the gigantic grift that has become the new American dream, promising a quick way to turn dollars into fake dollars that will somehow – but almost never – generate more real dollars.
Yet, Penn State thought that this was something the fan base needed? That this token – on top of the rising cost of season tickets, gas, hotels, food and gear – would somehow make me a better fan? That this grift is something that Penn State fans, who convulsed at the thought of watching their team on a streaming service, are expected to engage with? That this concept is something that Penn State’s athletic administration feels will generate meaningful revenue?
Of course, though if it does generate any meaningful revenue, it won’t go to Penn State men’s basketball.
On the 21st day – and some 100-some days until their season starts – Penn State men’s basketball head coach Mike Rhoades admitted to the media that Penn State – who could generate $300 million in revenue this athletic year – ranks dead last in NIL spending on its men’s hoops squad.
“We’re at the bottom,” Rhoades said. “No coaches are going to say they have enough, right? Everybody wants more in this arms race, this and that. It is what it is. You got whatever you’re given, you got to try to do the best that you can with it, and make no excuses, and figure it out.
Then again, the Socios press release that only speaks about football could have told you that too.
Rhoades’ comment was authentically transparent and may in some ways have been a battle cry for more support. But it was still damning evidence of where men’s basketball – which at this point I believe Penn State keeps as a program merely for the television revenue and no competitive reasons – sits in the eyes of Pat Kraft.
But it fits with Kraft’s M.O. Football is king. Being visible on the sidelines matters. So too is finding every possible revenue stream – even if that means sacrificing sanctity.
This year, Penn State fans didn’t have to wait long for that to happen. Just 21 days into the athletic year, Penn State is shilling you a digital currency while the men’s basketball coach begs for an ounce of support.
The 21st day of the athletic year was an embarrassing one but, more frustratingly, a self-inflicted one that seems to be more and more common. It carries on Penn State’s recent ways of selling its soul to the highest bidder while voiding itself of any real substance that ultimately connects with true fans.
Of course, until you give to the blockchain, you may not even be a true fan.
If you’ve enjoyed this content, please subscribe to Stuff Somers Says With Steve on YouTube. Or join our newsletter by entering your email below.
