Universities Are Making Smart Moves. Athletes, Pay Attention.

Colleges are investing in the creator economy. Athletes could leave with more than a degree and a highlight reel.

Somebody call a timeout.

Universities are making a smart move—and athletes need to understand why.

Arizona State launched a bachelor’s degree in content creation. Stanford introduced a graduate creator economy course with a 110-person waitlist. Syracuse established a Center for the Creator Economy, according to Digiday. (digiday.com)

Give them credit. They’re recognizing that storytelling, audience development, and communication belong in business education.

And before somebody screams, “A DEGREE IN TIKTOK?” please sit down. Your last Facebook video was filmed from inside your nostril. You are not chairing this committee.

The serious question is what happens next:

How do we make sure athletes get this preparation, too?

They already help generate the attention. Their performances become highlights, recruiting content, and reasons for people to care about a school.

That relationship can benefit everybody.

But the athlete should leave understanding how to build something beyond it.

Because four years of visibility can disappear surprisingly fast when your biography becomes “used to play.”

Athletes, slide your chairs closer.

People know your number. Your dunk package. That you transferred.

What else?

What interests you? What are you learning? What do you want to build?

Your entire public identity cannot be “6’7” wing.”

That’s a scouting description, brother. You’re allowed to have a future.

Instead, personal branding becomes an emergency possession.

Four years of silence. Graduation approaching. Shot clock screaming.

“Excited to announce my next chapter.”

WHAT CHAPTER? YOU HAVEN’T LET US READ A PARAGRAPH.

You posted eleven dunks and a black screen that said “different.”

Different how? Do you want to coach? Design clothes? Start a business?

We cannot build a relationship with your standing reach.

And posting more isn’t enough.

If your entire strategy is “go viral,” your offense is Everybody Move and Pray.

You need to understand your audience, evaluate partnerships, and recognize what you’re agreeing to.

Otherwise, somebody offers you a hoodie for six videos and you start calling yourself a brand ambassador.

Sir, you have been compensated in fleece.

We teach athletes to recognize a trap at half court. We should teach them to recognize one in an email.

That’s an opportunity for universities to lead.

Connect athletes with the creator education, business expertise, and production resources developing on campus. Make participation workable alongside their academic and athletic commitments.

Let them practice telling their stories, evaluating a mock sponsorship offer, and developing a project that belongs to them.

Give them feedback before an expensive mistake becomes the teacher.

This doesn’t require turning every athlete into an influencer.

Nobody needs a mandatory morning routine from the backup center. We have enough footage of people opening refrigerators.

Some athletes want privacy. Others want careers far from sports.

They still benefit from learning to explain their value, ask good questions, and build professional relationships.

At Athlwtic Entrepreneur and GSIP, that’s the development conversation we want to advance: helping athletes understand situations, evaluate opportunities, and make better decisions.

A stronger body cannot negotiate with a bad idea.

For university leaders, the question is worth bringing into the next meeting:

Your athletes already represent the institution. What are they learning that will help them represent themselves when eligibility ends?

And athletes, you have a responsibility here, too.

Use the resources. Ask for guidance. Develop interests beyond your position. Build something people can connect with after the final buzzer.

The university can open the gym.

You still have to get your reps in.

And stop posting “big things coming” without building anything.

It has been six semesters.

Run the play.