So it turns out that when you put a specific dollar value on a rare commodity — say, the ability to play quarterback at a high level — and you allow people who possess that skill the freedom to shop themselves to the highest bidder … well, you’re setting the stage for chaos.

“Chaos” might be too gentle of a term for the state of college football right now. The latest shock wave: Tennessee quarterback Nico Iamaleava effectively holding out for more money on the eve of the Vols’ annual Orange and White spring game. Iamaleava was , and storm clouds have gathered over what was a promising 2025 season.

Advertisement

Iamaleava joined the Vols in 2022 on an NIL deal that pays him a reported $2 million per year. At the time, it seemed like a stunning payment — or overpayment — but just two years later, it’s looking like a bargain. Carson Beck, for instance, reportedly got $4 million to jump from Georgia to Miami, and Duke’s Darian Mensah is reportedly pocketing a similar figure. (NIL figures can be tricky to nail down.)

The difference between those two players and Iamaleava, though, is that they entered the transfer portal to maximize their earning potential … and you’ll never guess what opens up next Wednesday. Hence, Iamaleava is apparently looking to secure a bigger bag with an obvious, if unspoken threat: If you don’t want me suiting up elsewhere next year, pay up now.

The challenge for Tennessee — and Iamaleava knows this — is that the Vols ascended to a higher plane in 2024, reaching the inaugural 12-team College Football Playoff. Iamaleava deserves a large share of the credit for that; he threw for 2,616 yards and 19 touchdowns against five interceptions last season. With Iamaleava under center, Tennessee averaged over 35 points per game last year in a 10-3 campaign.

Advertisement

A holdout puts all that at risk, and sours all the goodwill coming out of the last two seasons of the Josh Heupel era. But while Iamaleava and his reps have incited this incident, they’re only playing by the rules as they exist — or don’t — right now. And they’re likely the first of many to do so.

It’s easy to point the finger at players (and, of course, their reps) for valuing money over tradition, loyalty and (don’t laugh) an education. But they’re only following the example of their coaches, their schools and their conferences, all of which have chased taller dollars at the expense of longstanding alliances and histories. College football is an unregulated free-for-all where everyone’s throwing elbows to make room at the trough.

Whether Iamaleava stays for his current rate, manages to wrangle a raise out of the Vols, or bolts Knoxville entirely, the flag is planted, the precedent established. Pay me or I’m gone isn’t going to go over well with the loyalists in Columbus or Athens, but it’s the mantra for the game now. As long as players can transfer without penalty, and as long as NIL collectives can set the market, players who want to maximize their in-school revenue will look elsewhere … and, in many cases, be welcomed.

Advertisement

This chaotic state of affairs would seem to cry out for some sort of contract between college and talent, but that’s edging perilously close to certifying athletes as employees, and the Powers That Be remain deeply opposed to that classification. So the duct-taped patchwork of guidelines and recommendations remains in place, fragile and vulnerable to anyone who wants to see just how far they can push in this new world.

In a marketplace lacking restraint, regulation, moderation or common sense, the only surprising element of the Iamaleava situation is that it isn’t happening everywhere, all the time. Yet.