Dave Boling: Washington State fans need bigger bag to ward off portal poachers

Real fans don’t have a portal.

Maybe we could rig one that could transport them back to the days when college sports were simpler, stabler and less transactional.

Through all the changes, though, the real ones sustain allegiance to their teams.

It’s the finest quality of real fans – and Washington State has some of the most loyal and avid, those who offer the vaguely mystical explanation that “there’s just something about the place.”

But suddenly, like so many fan bases around the country, Cougar faithful are being asked to not only relinquish loved ones on an annual basis, but to also help finance the temporary workers brought in to replace them.

Fans are having to adapt to this new era of fanning. And it can be painful.

Picture having to watch a young player develop with your team and then leave to find extraordinary success elsewhere.

How to react? For Cougar fans, quarterback Cam Ward is a test case.

The former WSU quarterback is now the darling of Miami Hurricane fans, and is one of the front-runners for the 2024 Heisman Trophy. The Hurricanes are undefeated and ranked No. 8, powered by Ward’s nation-leading 18 touchdown passes.

And, in some numbers very relevant to this examination, his name-image-likeness value has been reported at roughly a million dollars, but may have risen to twice that with new endorsements.

How, then, are the Cougar fans supposed to feel about Ward’s emergence? Is he a mercenary ingrate? Or do they appreciate his two-season contribution to WSU and offer all well-wishes?

“I think it’s kind of split, honestly; there are people who wish him well and some who don’t, because he left the school,” said Paul Sorensen, a former Cougar defensive back who is now vice-president of the Cougar Collective, which raises funds for WSU’s NIL program.

“Cam did it right,” Sorensen said. “He did his two years and graduated from Washington State, and went on and got the big bag.”

According to reports, Miami and Florida State offered the most prodigious bags, with Miami winning out.

“To be honest, the going rate for a starting Power 5 (conference) quarterback is a million bucks right now,” Sorensen said.

Even though he’s involved in the financial part of conscripting talent, Sorensen confesses “I hate the NIL stuff. I understand it, but what you have now is basically free agency with no salary cap. It’s totally unsustainable in college football and college basketball.”

Sorensen believes that legislation eventually will restore some order to the costly bidding wars.

Football coach Jake Dickert, probably the person most affected by the departure of Ward, said last summer that he was fully supportive of his move, understanding the life-changing income, and the advantages in NFL preparation Miami might provide.

If insiders like Dickert and Sorensen are supportive of Ward’s move and motives, it might be instructional for fans, too.

Ward’s departure opened the way for redshirt sophomore John Mateer to emerge at quarterback for the 4-1 Cougars, and he’s responded with 13 touchdowns passing and five more rushing.

It would be hard to compare him to Ward, but he plays with real competitive flair and should be fun to watch … as long as he stays around.

Mateer this week agreed to an NIL deal with Northern Quest Casino, which should significantly boost his portfolio, adding to his endorsement of Miss Huddy’s Barbecue in Pullman.

Representing a barbecue food cart is not only delightfully Coug-y, but also a unique NIL deal in which the benefits may be received in an actual bag. Perhaps with a side of slaw.

Sorensen acknowledged the historical reality – other universities often enjoy greater support of major corporations and high-roller donors.

“Let’s be honest, Washington State has always been considered a have-not school, in terms of the perception of where we stood with money, donations, all that stuff,” he said.

And when big-budget programs bailed on the Pacific-12 Conference, “everybody wanted WSU and (Oregon State) to crawl off the road and die in a ditch somewhere. But we (WSU supporters) are not going away. We’re going to hang in here and rebuild this thing and be relevant again.”

To be fair, WSU may not be so much of a “have-not” as much as differentially-haved. They’ve always had to be creative and highly motivated, and rely on the kind of tenacity their fans share with their teams.

“To be honest, you’ve got to be a kind of special cat to play in Pullman,” Sorensen said.

And that attracts a kind of special fan.

Sorensen cited the appeal of the Pike Brewing product, Ol’ Crimson Lager. A portion of the profits support the Cougar Collective.

“We’re going to drink ourselves to success,” Sorensen kidded. (Note to WSU marketing department, re: potential new motto).

A more conventional means of contribution is via cougarcollective.org.

“The Cougar Collective gives people skin the game,” Sorensen said. “The average fan has the opportunity to say, ‘I’m helping out; we want to keep these kids together and not develop them and have them go off and play for somebody else’.”

With reluctance, I’ll tout a soft-drink commercial, featuring the acting talents of former Seahawks linebacker Brian Bosworth, for insight into dealing with the intransience of contemporary college sports.

Bosworth plays the sheriff of the mythical town of Fansville. He’s called up to witness players being sucked into a massive swirling vortex. “It’s the transfer portal, it’s out of control,” Bosworth warns.

Fansville’s favorite quarterback starts being pulled at by the supernatural force. He grabs the hand of a fan, desperately trying to save him. But the fan decides he can’t offer his other hand because it’s holding a Dr. Pepper, and the quarterback disappears into the black hole.

Resigned to the sight of the beloved player disappearing, one of Bosworth’s cohorts sighs: “Quarterbacks are replaceable.”

But not cheaply.

It’s hard to argue that players deserved a slice of the massive enterprise of college athletics.

Resigned to this new reality, last week I donated $50 to the only college team I’m professionally allowed to root for, my old school, Louisville.

The quarterback, a 25-year-old in his seventh college season, responded to my largesse with an early fumble in a loss to Notre Dame. I took it as a personal affront.

Concerned that examining the topic of Ward’s departure would only be a painful reminder to some WSU fans, I donated $25 to the Cougar Collective. With apologies.

Here’s what is becoming clear: The metaphoric subtext to the Bosworth commercial is that the powerful portal represents everyday life as a sports fan.

Sometimes, it just sucks real hard.