For generations, the love for college football has been woven into the fabric of American falls. If you ask many diehard college football fans, it’s a passion built on a unique foundation, one that professional sports can't replicate. It’s the shared sense of community, where fans feel a genuine connection to the student-athletes who walk the same campus paths, eat in the same dining halls, and cram for the same exams. It’s the historic rivalries, battles steeped in decades of tradition, that divide states and families. It’s the loyalty born from watching a player arrive as a teenager and develop over three or four years into a campus hero before heading to the next level. This combination of amateurism, community, and tradition created an unbreakable bond between fans and the game.
But in recent years, the very notions of that foundation to the magic of college football have been shaken to their core. The traditions that defined college football have been systematically changed, replaced by a new, more transactional era.
The camaraderie fans felt with athletes over shared collegiate experiences has rapidly eroded. The concept of the "student-athlete" feels increasingly quaint when top players are earning thousands, even millions, in Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) deals, a world away from the typical student's financial reality. The rise of online classes further separates these athletes from the general student body, turning them into on-campus professionals rather than peers.
Simultaneously, the relentless pursuit of television revenue has led to chaotic conference realignment, sacrificing history for eyeballs. Storied rivalries have been cast aside, replaced by matchups that feel geographically and culturally nonsensical. A conference game between USC and Maryland, for instance, lacks the generations of animosity and shared history that made matchups like Oklahoma-Nebraska or Texas-Texas A&M so compelling.
Adding to this disconnect is the advent of the transfer portal. The four-year player who becomes a team captain and a fan favorite is becoming an endangered species. Rosters now turn over at an astonishing rate, with players hopping from school to school in search of better playing time or a more lucrative NIL package. This constant movement prevents fans from forming a lasting connection with the players wearing their team's colors and, conversely, keeps players from putting down roots in a program and its community.
Given these seismic shifts, a legitimate question arises: if you strip away the traditions, the rivalries, and the sense of community that made people fall in love with college football, can the sport survive? Can it be killed?
The early data suggests a surprising, and for many, a definitive answer: No.
Despite the hand-wringing from purists and the undeniable transformation of the sport, the metrics that matter most to television executives and university athletic departments, viewership, attendance, and donations, are not just holding steady; they are thriving.
According to a report from Sports Illustrated, total college football viewership across all networks in the early weeks of the 2025 season is up a staggering 21% compared to last season. Marquee matchups are posting record-breaking numbers. The Week 1 showdown between Texas and Ohio State, for example, drew over 16 million viewers, making it the most-watched Week 1 game on record. Even in Week 4, a clash between Florida and Miami brought in 6.46 million viewers, while Auburn-Oklahoma drew 6.12 million, according to Sports Media Watch. These aren't the numbers of a dying sport; they are the signs of a booming enterprise.
Attendance figures tell a similar story. While complete 2025 data is still being compiled, the 2024 season showed robust attendance across the major conferences. Data from D1.ticker shows that powerhouse programs like Michigan, Penn State, and Tennessee consistently packed their stadiums, often exceeding 100% capacity. The SEC and Big Ten led the charge, with average attendances of 73,245 and 65,109, respectively, through the first week of the 2025 season, as reported by 247Sports. Fans are still showing up in droves.
The soul of college football may have been sold, but it turns out the product itself is more popular than ever. The pageantry, the high-stakes games, and the raw athletic talent on display are proving to be a more powerful draw than the traditional elements that have been lost. The sport has changed, perhaps irrevocably, into something more closely resembling a professional league. But if the ratings continue to climb and the stadiums remain full, the conclusion is unavoidable.
College football, as we knew it, might be dead. But the business of college football has proven it cannot be killed.