Taking pass on college makes dollars & sense
He walked into a noisy, crowded room at the ESPN sports bar in midtown Manhattan that was dressed up specifically for him. He wore a white jacket, a shirt with an open collar, and an oversized white baseball cap. The TV cameras snapped to attention when he appeared. He stood next to the microphone, cleared his throat, began his speech with a nervous "um" and after thanking everyone, including God, he made his announcement: "I'm going to attend college at Louisville and stay all four years," he said, "or five, if that's what it takes to get my degree."
Well, Sebastian Telfair didn't actually say that.
Nobody here is blaming him for what he did say: "I will be entering the 2004 NBA draft." Besides, he's about to cut a hefty check from adidas to wear sneakers. If several NBA teams, after scouting him extensively, are fighting over the chance to throw millions more at a teenager for his pro-tential, who could argue whether he made the right choice?
Instead, what struck me while the New York City schoolboy heard cheers and shook hands yesterday was how the scene was rather common and ho-hum. A high school kid telling everyone he'd rather chase the money than a degree is nothing new anymore. It holds no shock value, no "wow" factor, stirs no controversy, creates no sociological ripple as it once did, and doesn't cause folks to debate the pros and cons.
Admit it: When you picked up the paper this morning and learned another teenager turned pro, your first reaction was this: "So, did the Yankees win again last night?" The last quarter-century changed everything. It started with Spencer Haywood, a poor kid from Detroit via Mississippi, who wanted to play in the NBA and took his case to court. It continued with Darryl Dawkins, who went directly from high school to the Planet Lovetron.
There were more teenagers in other pro sports: Tracy Austin, Chris Evert and Jennifer Capriati, among others, in tennis; Eric Lindros and tons more to hockey; too many to mention in baseball; and eventually, somebody will crack through the lone holdout and play in the NFL.
More kids are making adult choices. It's not a trend anymore; it's here to stay. They're making a grab for the cash, and quick, while their body and their skills are still growing and maturing. The sports leagues are cooperating by essentially making it OK for kids to learn on the job. The goal nowadays is to get in early and stay as late as possible. If a kid is lucky, when he reaches 40, he'll have spent half his life playing for pay.
College isn't for everyone, particularly if you have no desire to sit through a two-hour political science class but can hit a major-league curveball. The politically correct thing to say is that every athlete should experience college, but let's get real here. If an 18-year-old has world-class talent, a short attention span when it comes to academics and a family that's clipping coupons to make ends meet, going to school does little or nothing for him. He'll just occupy classroom space on those rare occasions when he actually goes to class. The coaches will nudge him into a "jock" major, the kind that won't get you hired on Wall Street. Meanwhile, his family will keep citing their financial needs and pressing him to turn pro after his freshman year.
In a perfect world, this small but select group of athletes wouldn't be allowed to take a scholarship from someone who could really use it. The more realistic choice for them is the pro level, where they can concentrate on nothing else except baseball or basketball or tennis or whatever will earn them a living. That's where their head is, anyway. That's where their heart is.
They don't need a year or two on campus. They need a strong support group of advisers, family members and friends who'll make the transition from boy to man as simple as possible. That's all you can hope for Telfair and the six other high school kids who've declared for the NBA so far. If the support is solid, they'll be fine.
The only real surprise from Telfair yesterday came when he said Louisville vs. the NBA "was definitely a close, long process." You think Telfair weighed a life listening to lectures and eating slices of pizza and bumming rides from friends, vs. playing in sold-out arenas and getting free front-row concert seats and driving a Hummer and sipping champagne? He didn't need a college degree to figure that one out.
Copyright © 2008, Newsday Inc.



Mixx it!