The NIL Gold Rush: When "Student-Athlete" Becomes a Luxury Car Owner – and a Theft Victim
How the NIL era turned college athletes into millionaires, influencers, and now, prime targets for crime in the Punch Yourself in the Face Economy.
Remember when "student-athlete" meant broke, overworked, and surviving off ramen? Ah, simpler times. Thanks to the glorious gold rush of Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) deals, today's "students" are rolling around campus in Lamborghinis, Range Rovers, and AMG Mercedes. Oh, and sometimes those luxury rides get stolen—just ask Miami quarterback Carson Beck and his girlfriend, Hanna Cavinder (of the TikTok-famous Cavinder twins). Their fancy cars were recently lifted by some local Miami area criminals.
From Scholarship to Supercars in the Clown World Economy
Gone are the days when college athletes needed to scrape together enough money for a burrito bowl. Now, they’re practically one step away from Wall Street finance bros—minus the degrees. Thanks to NIL deals, athletes are raking in six- and seven-figure sponsorships for existing, flashing some abs on Instagram, and doing TikTok dances.
Take Hanna Cavinder, for example. She and her sister, Haley, leveraged their social media fame into NIL deals worth over a cool million dollars. No NCAA championships? No problem! The brand partnerships roll in anyway. The only thing missing from the equation? Attending actual classes.
Meanwhile, Carson Beck—the University of Miami's QB—is also benefitting from this college football hedge fund called NIL. And because no one is actually watchingtheir money, criminals now see student-athletes as walking bank accounts with unlocked luxury cars. The suspects reportedly entered the home by breaking into a car in the driveway and using the garage door opener—which means these top-tier athletes are making millions yet securing their homes like they’re living in a 2001 Honda Civic.
The "Student" in Student-Athlete? Yeah, Right.
Welcome to the Punch Yourself in the Face Economy, where hard work and education are outdated relics, and influence is currency. At this point, calling them "student-athletes" is just a formality, like calling a TikTok influencer a "content creator." These players are getting paid like professionals without any of the responsibilities of actually being pros. The NCAA has gone from a rigid "no money for athletes" stance to essentially allowing a free-market bidding war for teenagers who throw footballs well.
And let’s be real—who’s actually studying in this scenario? These NIL athletes are running businesses, negotiating sponsorships, and filming ad campaigns for energy drinks and fast-food chains. The "student" part is a joke, and we all know it. Professors are grading their essays (if they even write them) knowing full well that their students make more money than they do.
Is This the New NCAA or a Reality Show?
Let’s face it—college sports is now a glorified influencer economy, and NIL has turned these "student-athletes" into branded content machines.
And when their supercars get stolen, we’re all supposed to feel bad for them? Please. Maybe NIL collectives should start offering security advisors along with their seven-figure deals.
The Future: College Sports, Inc.
At this point, let’s just drop the pretense. The NCAA should rename itself "College Sports, Inc." and hand out degrees in Brand Partnerships and Social Media Monetization instead of business administration.
Maybe universities should stop pretending they care about academics for these athletes and just let them focus on what they really came to college for—making millions, flexing on social media, and occasionally playing a sport.
If this is what "college athletics" looks like now, maybe it’s time to retire the term "student-athlete" altogether. Because right now, it’s about as real as amateurism in the NCAA ever was. Welcome to the Punch Yourself in the Face Economy, where logic goes to die and cash rules everything.