Aliyah Boston (South Carolina), Paige Bueckers (Connecticut), Dana Evans (Louisville) and Rhyne Howard (Kentucky) arrived at the NCAA women’s March Madness tournament “bubble” in San Antonio this month as part of of the The next generation of NCAA stars. These women have earned their chance to dance on college basketball’s biggest stage, with all the pomp and circumstance that comes with it.
But there to salute the best college basketball players in the country. were amenities and accommodation – all provided under the auspices of the NCAA – which were grossly unequal to those offered to their male counterparts during the men’s tournament bubble in Indianapolis.
The “weight room” for these Division I athletes consisted of a a single embarrassing stack of six pairs of weights and a handful of yoga mats stacked on a folding table. The men’s side, in comparison, looks more like the Planet Fitness floor.
As images of weight training facilities went viral on social media, other disturbing information slowly emerged. Contrary to buffets rich in options served in the men’s bubblewomen received small prepackaged meals. Women’s teams also received less reliable Covid-19 antigen tests, while men’s teams received the gold standard PCR tests. Even the women’s “goody bags” were less impressive. Rather than facilitating full media access in a year where media coverage has already been hampered by the pandemic, the NCAA further cut costs by choosing not providing the women’s tournament with photographers for the first two rounds. Yet he managed to gather enough photographers to publish thousands of photos opening matches of the men’s tournament.
Unable to refute the obvious gap in amenities, the The NCAA initially hid behind a statement blaming the pandemic’s “controlled environment” and claiming the gap in weight-training facilities was due to a lack of space in the women’s bubble. But this was quickly debunked by a video posted by Oregon sophomore Sedona Prince. She put it succinctly: “if you’re not upset about this problem, then you are part of it.”
The NCAA has long been part of the problem. Indeed, the protections provided by Title IX to protect student-athletes from this type of disparate treatment do not apply to the NCAA.
You read correctly. More than two decades ago, in NCAA vs. Smith, the Supreme Court unanimously ruled that the NCAA is not required to follow Title IX rules because it is a nonprofit organization comprised of member colleges and universities, and although the Most of these institutions receive federal funding, the NCAA does not. The Supreme Court has left open the possibility of a case in which Title IX could apply to the NCAA, but there has never been a case in which a court has ruled that way.
The protections provided by Title IX to protect student-athletes from this type of disparate treatment do not apply to the NCAA.
Immediately after the NCAA v. Smith, the NCAA has publicly stated its commitment to comply voluntarily to Title IX mandates, even if not legally required to do so. Today, the NCAA proclaims on its website that it strives to establish “an environment free from gender bias”. But its words don’t always translate into meaningful actions, and the NCAA has exploited this legal loophole for years.
In fact, the NCAA initially met Title IX with great resistance. In the 1970s, the The NCAA put pressure to restrict the application of Title IX to college athletics, ironically fearing that this would be a difficulty for men’s teams. In 1976, the NCAA unsuccessfully filed a lawsuit challenging the legality of Title IX, saying it should never apply to athletic programs.
Although the NCAA has supported women’s sports as they have grown in popularity, there is no doubt that the NCAA has never given women the same support that it gives men. You only need to look at the court itself to see that the NCAA has failed to use its most powerful branding tool to promote the women’s tournament: the “March Madness” logo, which adorns center court for men’s games . Even if no brand restrictions prohibiting the NCAA from using the March Madness brand to promote the men’s and women’s tournaments, it inexplicably decided to use it only in the men’s tournament.
Most egregiously, the NCAA has consistently deemed women’s basketball unworthy of its greatest financial prize: bonuses paid to conferences for their teams’ victories in the NCAA Tournament, which, in turn, trickle down to universities and colleges. From 1997 to 2018, the NCAA distributed more than a billion dollars in the top five men’s conferences (the Big Ten, Atlantic Coast Conference, Big 12, Southeastern Conference and Pac-12). By comparison, the NCAA has not contributed a single cent for a single victory in the women’s tournament since its inception in 1982.
The likely justification offered by the NCAA for this different treatment? That the women’s basketball tournament does not bring in enough revenue. But the NCAA also failed to disclose what are the revenues and costs of the women’s tournament, not to mention how they compare to the men’s. Even though the numbers show that the NCAA cannot economically justify the same level of bonuses for the women’s tournament, it has never provided a good-faith reason why it could not reward wins in a more limited way. This would at least give women a piece of the income pie. However, the NCAA recently confirmed that he does not advocate any change in the bonus structure.
As others have done argued, the NCAA’s refusal to reward team wins in the women’s tournament sends the message that it views women’s teams as less worthy, at least financially. This message has always been unacceptable. The message sent following the San Antonio debacle is even more worrying.
As the NCAA itself recognizes Title IX Guidance Document, gender equity is not just about money; it’s about benefits and opportunities. This includes benefits for the health, safety and well-being of players, especially since the NCAA decided to move forward with March Madness amid a pandemic.
There is nothing fair about using the most powerful brand to market the men’s tournament but not the women’s. There’s nothing equitable between a handful of free weights and a full-service fitness center. There is nothing equitable about providing high-level testing to ensure the health and safety of male student-athletes, but relegating women to the least reliable option (especially given the NCAA’s choice to organize the women’s tournament in a state which recently threw Covid-19 safety into oblivion).
Unsurprisingly, the inequalities in the men’s and women’s bubbles have sparked significant backlash from players, coaches, fans and the media. Sponsors and investors have also backed away. Dick’s Sporting Goods announced his desire to bring “truckloads of fitness equipment” to the rescue in San Antonio. Orange Theory Fitness offered in the same way to open its studios for private sessions and to deliver floor and bodybuilding equipment.
These companies understand what the NCAA seems to ignore: Women’s sports have value, especially in the commercial marketplace, and that value increases with investment, opportunity and support. The figures and the growing audience for women’s football confirm this conclusion. In 2019, ticket sales jumped across the country during the regular season. A sold-out crowd and 3.6 million viewers watched the 2019 women’s championship game, prompting ESPN to broadcast all of this season’s women’s games for the first time.
In response to his public shame, the The NCAA solved the weight room problem finding the resources he previously lacked – seemingly overnight. But a bandage is not a real solution. To address a systemic problem, the NCAA must undergo systemic changes. For this to happen, this momentum for change cannot run out of steam.
For years, the NCAA seemed to have operated under the assumption that it could get away scot-free when it treated women’s basketball as inferior. This can no longer be the case. If the NCAA cannot be held legally accountable, it must be held socially accountable. Leading the charge should be member institutions, which have a legal obligation to their student-athletes under Title IX. It should be no secret that Prince, the Oregon player, did something when the institutions and the NCAA failed her. Title IX, however, places the burden on institutions to ensure equality of opportunity. Players should never be forced to carry this burden.
Sponsors and investors should also make supporting the women’s tournament a regular practice, not a one-off and sporadic practice when the public is attentive and the marketing time is right.
Finally, the NCAA itself must follow through and make real, lasting changes. His conduct in San Antonio is a scandal and an embarrassment. This should be the last time the value of elite NCAA female athletes is so blatantly denigrated. In the meantime, the NCAA’s commitment as purported guarantor of Title IX protections will remain woefully superficial.
