The inherent delusion of college football coaching contracts

Hello from beautiful National Harbor, Md.

I’m at the NCAA convention for one more day. It’s been a productive week, with some updates that I’ll share in Saturday’s dispatch.

For today’s story, I dove headfirst into some college football coaching contracts — thanks to the wealth of knowledge we’ve got stored in the Extra Points Library — and came back to the surface with some interesting details that paint an interesting broader picture of the hiring landscape today. If you’re a premium subscriber, get ready to learn a lot of interesting tidbits about the provisions in some of the most talked-about contracts given out this fall and winter. And if not, you’ll get a preview of some of that info before the paywall. Enjoy!

— Kyle

The inherent delusion of college football coaching contracts

The 2025 college football coaching carousel was the most dizzying, money-soaked (and sometimes logic-defying) hiring cycle the sport has ever seen. Fired coaches walked away with nearly a quarter of a billion dollars in buyout checks. And in a twist only college football could deliver, schools handed their replacements contracts just as rich, just as long and just as irresponsibly guaranteed.

This was not a market cooling. It was a spending spree.

As the hiring cycle wrapped up, I was curious whether athletic directors had learned anything after a decade of self-inflicted buyout wounds — so I dug into the Extra Points Library and reviewed dozens of Power 5 and Group of 5 contracts from 2024 and 2025.

The answer to my question: They haven’t learned a thing!

Coaches are still paid like hedge-fund managers. Buyouts are golden parachutes. Country club memberships are a necessity. And in the age of private jets, flight hours are becoming as standard as health insurance.

Welcome to the fabulous life of the rich and famous football coaches.

One of the most revealing things about these contracts isn’t what’s in them. It’s what isn’t.

Despite NIL and revenue sharing determining whether programs can recruit, retain and win, few coaching contracts mention college football’s most powerful acronym. 

Why?

A deputy athletic director told NIL Wire that schools avoid writing NIL or revenue-sharing promises into contracts because those documents are open for all eyes to see. Instead, most of the sport operates on wink-and-nod economics, handshake deals between ADs and coaches that everyone understands but nobody wants in the open. 

Two exceptions are Pat Fitzgerald’s Michigan State contract and Billy Napier’s James Madison agreement.  

“In a manner consistent with any applicable laws and NCAA and CSC regulations, the University will make good faith efforts to work cooperatively with relevant third parties regarding name, image, and likeness education for all student-athletes,” reads Fitzgerald’s contract in a section titled “NIL.” 

Napier’s contract says: “University acknowledges and agrees that it shall conduct an annual good faith review of the assistant coach salary pool, support staff salary pool, operating budget, and NIL/rev share funding and shall use best efforts to increase such amounts as necessary to ensure the football program remains competitive within the conference.” 

In recent years, two coaches actually contributed to their own NIL funds. Brian Kelly matched up to $1 million in donations to LSU’s collective, and former Oklahoma State coach Mike Gundy accepted a reduced salary, with the athletic department savings being directed to NIL. 

If you want to understand college football economics, don’t start with salaries. Start with perks. 

Fitzgerald’s Michigan State contract includes:

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