Mark Kiszla: Why Coach Prime has been good for CU but bad for college football

CU coach Deion Sanders is a Prime example of everything that’s gone wrong with college football.

The game has sold its soul to the highest bidder.

You want to cling to the old-school values of loyalty, patience and character building through sports?

Well, bless your ever-lovin’ heart.

But in this pay-for-play era, there’s only one rule:

Just win, baby. Or pack your Louis Vuitton, and be gone.

“Well, there’s no more patience in this world,” Sanders said Tuesday during his weekly press conference in Boulder. “How do we exude patience, when we could call up right now and get a pizza delivery right here? You could call and get a ride waiting outside for you. Everything is expeditious in this country. Everyone wants the quick fix.”

Well, isn’t that why Colorado hired Sanders?

The football program was desperate for a quick fix.

The Buffs certainly are not paying Coach Prime a $10 million salary on football merit.

But quicker than you can say “I ain’t hard to find,” Sanders will make you look. He’s the MC who has turned Folsom Field into a three-ring circus.

Coach Prime has been very good to the University of Colorado.

But the Sanders effect has been undeniably bad for college football.

Yes, both things can be true at the same time.

Sanders moved the needle for a CU program running on empty. He’s must-see TV. Sells tickets by the stadium full. And in his spare time, picks up end-zone pylons kicked over by Buffs assistant coach and manchild in residence, Warren Sapp. 

After getting blown out 53-7 last weekend by Utah, however, Prime might be the most overpaid ball coach this side of Bill Belichick.

In his third season at CU, Sanders owns a 16-17 record.

If the Buffs were anything resembling a real pigskin power, Prime’s seat would be as hot as the one that ejected Brian Kelly from Louisiana State or James Franklin from Penn State.

A year ago, Franklin was one inexplicably bad interception by his quarterback from leading the Nittany Lions to the national championship game.

Kelly won 29 times in his first three seasons at LSU, but got canned last weekend after a lopsided home loss to third-ranked Texas A&M.

In the pay-for-play era of NIL and the transfer portal, no football factory has any time for loyalty and can’t afford patience.

The only education embraced now by the college game is a lesson from the school of hard knocks. Players and coaches know the score. New rules: Entertain the masses or get served divorce papers. Pronto.

“You got mail-order brides too, right? You can get married right away. You can get a BBL (Brazilian butt lift). You can come in here flat as I don’t know what and leave thicker than a Snicker,” Sanders said.

“This is a different country we live in, man. Ain’t nobody got no patience no more. I understand that. I don’t either … I want things done right now.”

Once again, we’re reminded Prime can utter a soundbite destined to go viral better than any coach in America.

But when the foundational principles of a Buffaloes football team assembled through the transfer portal are transactional and transitional by nature, it’s crazy to expect success built to last.

It’s hard to establish a winning culture, when prior to offseason practices the offensive and defensive linemen in CU’s program are issued helmets, pads and “Hi, my name is …” introductory tags to a slew of strangers.

The only quarterback Sanders has developed for the Buffs is the one he fathered and brought with him from Jackson State.

I don’t know exactly how much NIL money was allocated to quarterback Kaidon Salter in his transfer from Liberty to CU, but whether it was a million bucks or $1.98, it was too much.

There was a time not so very long ago when I tried never to criticize a college quarterback for throwing an interception, because he was playing the game for love of the dear, old alma mater.

Things have changed.

These days, if a QB on the roster can’t get the job done, Notre Dame coach Marvin Freeman or Ryan Day of Ohio State won’t hesitate to run a player loyal to the program out of town by bringing in a gunslinger for hire.

So why should Sanders act any differently?

The price of being a paid professional? A play-for-pay college kid no longer gets any slack for stumbling on the climb to becoming a responsible adult.

After the blowout loss to Utah, Coach Prime asked players on a 3-5 team their hobbies. Fishing? Skiing? Cooking?

“Is anybody compensating you for that?” Sanders said.

Love of the game has nothing to do with it anymore.

College football has become a bottom-line business ruled by the cold and sometimes cruel numbers on the scoreboard.

“Last time I checked,” Prime told his downtrodden Buffs, “we’re getting a check to do this.”

The heart has been ripped out of college football.

It’s not a crime, merely a business decision.

And Coach Prime’s fingerprints are all over it.