Urban Meyer Voices Strong Concerns Over Florida State’s Reported Revenue-Sharing Model With Athletes, Warning of Cultural and Competitive Risks

Urban Meyer Voices Strong Concerns Over Florida State’s Reported Revenue-Sharing Model With Athletes, Warning of Cultural and Competitive Risks

Urban Meyer, the former Florida Gators head coach and three-time national champion, has never shied away from controversial topics in college football. Known for his outspoken demeanor and strong opinions on the evolving landscape of the sport, Meyer has now turned his attention toward one of the hottest issues currently brewing in the NCAA world: Florida State’s reported revenue-sharing contracts with student-athletes. His remarks have sparked another round of national debate, especially as more schools begin to consider similar models in response to Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) reforms and mounting legal pressure.

Florida State reportedly has plans to implement direct revenue-sharing deals with its student-athletes, positioning itself as one of the first major college football programs to embrace what many see as the inevitable next step in player compensation. These contracts would allow athletes to receive a defined portion of revenue generated by media rights, ticket sales, and other athletic department income—a move that, if fully realized, could reshape the college sports business model as we know it.

Urban Meyer, during a recent appearance on a national sports podcast and later in a television interview, didn’t mince words when asked about the direction Florida State is headed.

“College football is not professional football,” Meyer said emphatically. “And the more we try to make it that, the more we’re going to destroy what makes this sport so special—team culture, development, and pride in representing your school, not your wallet.”

Meyer went on to explain that while he supports players receiving fair compensation through NIL deals and believes reforms were long overdue, he sees a direct revenue-sharing model as a slippery slope. “Once you start making players employees of the university, you change the entire structure of what college sports is supposed to be. You’re no longer developing young men—you’re managing a business,” he warned.

For Meyer, the greatest concern isn’t just the philosophical shift. It’s the risk of alienating the foundation of what he believes drives successful programs: the locker room culture, leadership hierarchy, and a sense of shared mission.

“Try leading a locker room where one kid is making $300,000 and another is busting his tail every day and makes $10,000,” Meyer said. “That creates tension. That creates division. And I’ve seen how fast that can destroy a team.”

The NCAA has long tried to maintain the amateur model, even as courts and state legislatures have pushed back. With NIL already becoming a chaotic marketplace where top athletes command six- and seven-figure deals, Florida State’s move may seem like just another domino. But Meyer contends this one is different. NIL deals are brokered through external companies and donors. Revenue sharing, on the other hand, means the university is directly paying its players. That has far-reaching implications—not only for the tax status of the programs, but also for Title IX compliance, recruiting ethics, and how coaches manage their teams.

Meyer also raised concerns about the sustainability of such a model.

“Do you really think this is financially viable for most programs?” he asked rhetorically. “Florida State might be able to pull it off now because they have a strong brand. But what happens when a few bad seasons hit, donations drop, or the TV deal doesn’t grow fast enough? You’re on the hook for a payroll, and it becomes a financial disaster.”

His comments come at a time when schools are facing growing legal pressure to treat athletes more like employees. Multiple lawsuits and unionization efforts are underway, and the NCAA’s ability to enforce amateurism has already been severely limited. The trend appears to be heading toward a fully professionalized model of college sports, and Florida State’s rumored revenue-sharing contracts are a bold step in that direction.

But not everyone agrees with Meyer’s dire warnings. Advocates for athlete compensation argue that programs like Florida State have profited for decades off the labor of unpaid players, many of whom never make it to the professional level. For them, revenue sharing is not a dangerous new idea—it’s long-overdue justice.

“The reality is, athletes are the engine that drives the entire billion-dollar enterprise of college sports,” one former NCAA player turned advocate said in response to Meyer’s remarks. “Urban Meyer made millions off young men who didn’t see a dime of it. Now that schools are finally considering real compensation models, he’s worried about ‘culture’? That’s tone-deaf.”

Still, Meyer’s voice carries significant weight. His track record as one of college football’s most successful and influential coaches means his views are bound to influence university leaders, athletic directors, and even some recruits. He remains closely connected to major programs and is often consulted behind the scenes for strategic input on coaching hires, recruiting strategies, and now—policy reform.

When asked whether he believes Florida State’s model will catch on across other top programs, Meyer didn’t hesitate.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Once one school does it successfully, others will feel the pressure to follow. This is a competitive industry. If Florida State starts signing top-five classes and winning playoff games because of this, Alabama, Georgia, Ohio State—they won’t wait long to match it.”

But he believes that chasing immediate success could come at a long-term cost.

“You can build a monster, sure,” he said. “But can you control it?”

That’s the question now facing athletic departments across the country. The arms race in college football has already escalated with NIL, the transfer portal, and realignment. Throw revenue sharing into the mix, and the entire structure begins to resemble a semi-pro league rather than the collegiate model that has existed for over a century.

Yet, Florida State doesn’t seem concerned. Its leadership has indicated a desire to be on the forefront of change. In their view, clinging to the old ways is a recipe for irrelevance. They want to compete with the SEC and Big Ten powers, and in their eyes, that means playing by the same economic rules.

Urban Meyer’s warnings serve as a reminder that change, no matter how well-intentioned, often comes with consequences. His concerns about culture erosion, financial instability, and locker room division aren’t without merit. But they also reflect a bygone era of college football—one where coaches had most of the control, and players had little voice or leverage.

Whether the Florida State model becomes the blueprint or a cautionary tale remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the debate over how college athletes should be compensated is far from over. And as more programs weigh the risks and rewards of following FSU’s lead, voices like Urban Meyer’s will continue to shape the conversation, even if the tide ultimately moves in the opposite direction.

For now, Florida State is willing to test the limits. And in doing so, they’ve not only reignited an old debate—they may have launched a new era in college football.