Well, there you have it, folks. We have officially entered the Idiocracy phase of college athletics.
The 2006 cult classic imagined a future where a sports drink called Brawndo – “The Thirst Mutilator” – had become so powerful it practically ran the economy and the government. It was absurd. It was satire. It wasn’t supposed to become a marketing strategy. Read more: WVU’s Monster moment
Yet here we are.
Once reserved almost exclusively for bowl season, corporate sponsorships are becoming another income stream to help fill the ever-growing financial demands created by NIL, revenue sharing and the escalating cost of competing in major college athletics. Last week, the Big 12 announced a multiyear agreement making Monster Energy the entitlement partner of the conference’s football and men’s and women’s basketball regular seasons. The official branding now becomes Monster Energy Big 12 Football and Monster Energy Big 12 Basketball.
The deal includes Monster patches on uniforms, branding on football fields and basketball courts, sponsorship of conference media days, and even restrictions preventing schools from signing competing energy drink sponsors.
Sorry, Brawndo. Apparently, your electrolytes weren’t enough to win the bidding war.
Let’s talk numbers
According to Reuters, the agreement is worth roughly $20 million annually, with each of the conference’s 16 schools potentially receiving around $1 million.
To be fair, I understand why the Big 12 made this deal.
College athletics has changed forever. Schools are preparing to share millions of dollars directly with athletes while continuing to fund facilities, coaching salaries and recruiting efforts. Every athletic director in America is searching for another revenue stream. Another million dollars isn’t pocket change.
Beginning August 1, NCAA rules will allow Division I schools to wear as many as two commercial sponsor patches on uniforms during the regular season, with another commercial logo permitted during conference championship competition.
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Monster may be the first patch but it doesn’t have to be the last.
That’s where my concern begins. This isn’t really about Monster Energy. It’s about the finish line. Once you decide jerseys are advertising space, it’s hard to argue against selling just a little more of them. Just look to NASCAR. Stock cars didn’t become rolling billboards overnight. One sponsor became two. Two became six. Six became 20. Eventually, you didn’t know what color the car was under all the decals. Before long, the Flying WV may be the smallest logo on the uniform.
No turning back
The irony is that I actually support paying athletes. For decades, universities generated billions while many of the players received little more than a scholarship. NIL was overdue. Revenue sharing was inevitable. The old system wasn’t sustainable.
This isn’t a complaint about players making money. It’s a question about how universities are going to keep finding it.
Because once we decide jerseys are advertising space, where does it end? How many patches can a uniform hold before it stops looking like West Virginia and starts looking like the hood of a sprint car? How many logos does it take to sign the next five-star quarterback?
Maybe this is simply the price of staying competitive. Most likely in five years, none of us will even notice the Monster logo. It will blend into the background the same way the Nike swoosh eventually did.
Or maybe that’s exactly the point. The first logo is always the hardest to accept. The second one is easier.
By the time the fifth logo arrives, we’ll wonder why anyone ever thought it looked strange.
