After all the hyperbole and histrionics, all the wasted millions in legal fees, we now see the crux of the situation.
Wait, it did less than that. It brought the fantasy of what could be. And Clemson followed.
If you’re shocked by the latest twist in the ACC vs. Florida State and Clemson lawsuits that’s now in the makeup phase of the program, you clearly haven’t been following along. It was nearly three months ago that Florida State athletic director Mike Alford told USA TODAY Sports, “We never said we wanted to leave the ACC” — after his university spent months, and millions in legal fees, doing just that.
It was last summer when multiple people from the Big Ten told USA TODAY Sports that the league never had direct or indirect talks with Florida State, and wasn’t interested in adding the Seminoles, which the league deemed a “bad partner” that was trying to break up the ACC in search of greener financial pastures.
While we can argue the merits of Florida State and Clemson’s reasons for trying to escape the ACC – and I agree with a few – there is no argument about the foundation of the case.
Florida State and Clemson had no leverage.
Had. No. Leverage.
Florida State’s grand plan was to get out of the ACC, and then become an attractive candidate for the Big Ten. Who among us wouldn’t want the blue blood football program, and sudden mercenary, for hire?
That’s right, FSU – and Clemson, to a lesser extent because it wasn’t publicly grandstanding – decided to risk its A-rating media properties brand on a whim and a hope.
Then kept doubling down.
It is here where we introduce Hernan Cortes, the famous Spanish conquistador, who in 1519 ordered his ships to be burned after landing in Mexico to prevent retreat and motivate his crew to succeed in the new land.
Florida State burned the ships knowing it didn’t have back channel negotiations with the Big Ten, or any semblance of a landing place if it were successful in its lawsuit against the ACC.
The Seminoles did it all knowing it signed the ironclad Grant of Rights agreement with the ACC not once (in 2013), but twice (again in 2016). Did it knowing ESPN would never, ever walk away from, or alter, a favorable media rights deal with the ACC through 2036.
Florida State did it knowing the ACC knew it held all the cards – and by all the cards, I mean all the cards – and wasn’t negotiating with a rogue member.
Only after it was clear last summer that FSU had no landing spot if it left the ACC, and that capital investment wasn’t the answer, did the school arrive at the negotiating table with the ACC — burned ships smoldering in the background.
FSU and Clemson have legit arguments in this fight. Without them, there is no ACC football. Who in their right mind wants to watch Wake Forest and Syracuse go it for four quarters on a perfectly good Saturday afternoon?
Especially when Tennessee vs. Florida is on another network. Or Michigan vs. Penn State, or Georgia vs. LSU or Ohio State vs. Southern California or any other combination of SEC and Big Ten games you can imagine.
ESPN is paying for Florida State and Clemson football in the ACC media rights deal, and to a lesser extent, Miami and as many Notre Dame games as it can get. FSU and Clemson feel as though the rest of the ACC earns off their brands, and that’s a legitimate argument.
But Vanderbilt and the Mississippi schools (among others) earn off SEC blue bloods, and Purdue, Indiana and Rutgers (among others) earn off Big Ten blue bloods.
That’s a partnership.
While football is the fuel, there are other benefits of conference partnership (at the top of the list, scheduling for every other sport) that hold critical value to an efficient engine.
If and until college football decides to break away from the rest of college sports and become a quasi-professional league of 50-60 teams that can afford it, this is the conference affiliation setup moving forward.
That the ACC has agreed on a revenue distribution model based on television viewership – a big get for Florida State, Clemson, Miami and North Carolina – is remarkable in its generosity.
The ACC didn’t have to do anything. They have the contract on their side, a contract Florida State twice signed and learned after months and millions in legal wrangling, couldn’t be broken.
The only incentive the ACC had to get a deal done with its wayward schools was protecting its brand. Meanwhile, Florida State and Clemson didn’t have a landing spot even if each paid an estimated half a billion dollars in financial obligations to leave the ACC.
All three were damaging their brands with each argument in court, and only one had leverage.
This is what happens when you bring fantasy to a gun fight.
Matt Hayes is the senior national college football writer for USA TODAY Sports Network. Follow him on X at @MattHayesCFB.