The NCAA really said: “What could go wrong?” and decided to find out in real time.

Starting November 1, college athletes and staff will be allowed to bet on professional sports. All three divisions voted to approve the change, marking one of the most reckless decisions in modern college sports history. It’s being framed as progress, as if loosening the rules somehow aligns with “empowering athletes.” But this isn’t empowerment—it’s exploitation dressed in policy.

Let’s start with the obvious: gambling is an addiction. Not “can be”—is. Studies show that the younger you start, the higher your chances of developing a gambling disorder. And who’s younger and more impressionable than college athletes, most of whom are barely 18 to 22 years old?

These are kids already under immense mental and financial stress—juggling classes, performance expectations, and NIL deals. Many are from working-class or single-parent homes, trying to use sports as their ticket out. And now, the NCAA thinks it’s a good idea to let them legally gamble? That’s not protecting them—that’s feeding them to the wolves.

Sure, the NCAA insists betting on college games is still off-limits. But proximity matters. College athletes are in constant contact with people who have access to insider information—trainers, coaches, and staff with connections to the pros. It’s only a matter of time before someone crosses that invisible line.

We’ve already seen the consequences. Remember the Alabama baseball betting scandal? Or the dozens of student-athletes suspended in Iowa for gambling violations? Those weren’t one-offs. They were red flags waving in the NCAA’s face—and instead of tightening guardrails, the organization just tore them down.

This policy shift isn’t about giving athletes freedom—it’s about optics and economics. The NCAA sees the $100-billion sports betting industry booming and wants in. But by normalizing gambling among players and staff, it’s setting up a pipeline for addiction, misconduct, and manipulation.

Imagine a broke college sophomore seeing a parlay as a “quick fix.” Imagine a team manager with inside info getting pressured to share it. The consequences won’t stop at “oops, a bad bet.” Careers, scholarships, and reputations will be ruined.

For decades, the NCAA has preached integrity and “protecting student-athletes.” Now it’s conveniently silent about the real risks—mental health spirals, financial instability, and addiction. You can’t claim to care about athletes' well-being while legalizing one of the most destructive habits out there.

This decision doesn’t modernize college sports—it corrupts them. And when the next betting scandal inevitably hits, the NCAA will once again feign surprise. But let’s be honest: this isn’t an accident waiting to happen. It’s a setup.