Howdy! It is Thursday, which means it’s time for FOIAball.
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How hard can you squeeze these donors?
There’s a new phrase that recently entered the college football lexicon. And although it causes big programs much consternation, we don’t feel too bad about it.
I’m talking about “donor fatigue.”
Back in the good old days, if you were a wealthy booster, a school asked you for a large donation. You got your name slapped on a building. That was that. But in the NIL era, these pesky young adults and their entitled disposition surrounding compensation for their labor (upgrade your FOIAball subscription today) force schools to ask for more and more.
Universities now solicit donations for both their actual program needs and to help pay players. Which means they’re pushing their whales harder and harder.
I figured we should make a game of it.
They’re gonna hate us for this one.
Recently, I got a fascinating document: Emails between a university’s athletic department and its now-shuttered NIL fund, in the middle of a fundraising drive.
We aren’t going to name the school or the donors for a couple reasons.
I like this school and don’t feel like burning a bridge yet. (I try to be as open and candid about my journalism ethics as I can.)
This behavior is happening everywhere, so I’d rather use it to paint a bigger picture than focus on one particular program.
These donors are all very rich people. While it’s my legal right to ID them, I don’t feel like hearing from their attorneys. Yet. I have some other things in the works :).
So let’s invent a school. The University of FOIAball Sleuthin’ Seals. Yes, we already have a mascot.
The Sleuthin’ Seals are a perennial AP Top 25 team. They have made it to and advanced in the college football postseason. You see their logo walking around your city on Saturdays in October.
But the Sleuthin’ Seals need money (insert seamless upgrade plug). Yes, we have a $1.4 billion endowment. Yes, we have an athletics budget of over $100 million. But we need more.
Luckily, our head football coach, James Plankton, has been working the dinner circuit and gave us a list of whales he’s wooed.
Our targets are the varied individuals who comprise America’s multi-millionaire class. Small business magnates. Big swinging C-suites. New money start-up execs. Old money trust funds. The kind of people whose children would never serve jail time for committing vehicular manslaughter. You know the type.
We consider these asks to be “fairly achievable.” Your job is to guess how much we want to milk them for.
(Please note: I’ve changed some identifying details, but the gist is the same.)
Let’s meet Donor #1. They are a “big Seals fan but have some skepticism” about giving. They are an alumnus who turned a niche idea into a global corporate swag empire. If you want your law firm’s logo on a YETI cup, they’ve got you. Their company is worth well over nine figures.
How much are we asking them for? Keep in mind, they’re not a dead certainty. Given the reticence, this donation still needs to be “flushed out a bit.”
Got your number in?
We’re asking for $500,000.
Next up is Donor #2. They’re a longtime university contributor with an endowed academic chair. They made their bag in steel manufacturing, taking a regional distributor and turning it into a primo acquisition target for a multinational conglomerate.
They recently finished the sale, and we’re certain they got a sick cut. They were also just appointed to the board of the school’s athletics fund. So, we are waiting a bit to “tee up this ask.” But a donation has been discussed, and we are “feeling good about it.”
How high can we go? Recently appointed board member, flush with fresh cash? Got an idea?
You better bet it’s $1 million.
Donor #3 is a couple currently giving $125,000 a year. One is the child of a prominent politician in our state. They sold a supplements company for millions and are getting into the craft seltzer game. We feel they’ve been treated well, so “we can ask for much more.”
Let’s start small. What is our “conservative estimate” for this well-connected duo?
We’d like them to up their giving by $75,000 a year for the next three years. That gettable goal nets us over $600,000.
When you Google Donor #4, the first hit is their profile on the website “Boardroom Alpha.” You know they’ve got that head honcho swagger. But they are getting up in age. They’re not too sure about this newfangled eye-en-el thing. Back in their day, the Sleuthin’ Seals took the field powered by their love of the game. A quarterback with a Corvette? Not at UFOIA.
There’s another issue. They very recently gave $500,000.
What should we ask for? Remember, our billion-dollar endowment looks so tiny right now.
We’re going $750,000.
Donor #5 is young tech money, an app entrepreneur whose mobile games you’ve played on the subway. They recently “did $250,000 without blinking.” We want to give them a bit of space, but they also just launched a nebulous AI company that has neither a website nor a product. So they have to have money.
We need something “doable but a tiny stretch.”
We’re gonna ask them to double up: $500,000.
But the Sleuthin’ Seals are more than just a football powerhouse. One of our non-revenue sports recently won a national championship. And we’ve got a whale who loves it. Donor #6 started a private equity firm that’s done $3 billion in deals. It’s headquartered in one of the bougiest zip codes in America.
Can they keep our non-revenue sports afloat? Certainly. How much are we penciling our private equity titan in for?
That’d be for $750,000. And for that, they’re gonna get a round of golf with the AD.
What about our richest whale? Donor #7 sits on the board of a foundation started by the family patriarch. It has $1 billion in assets. It already gave eight figures to the school. But that money is all used up! It’s time for a “new cultivation” that may take some gentle massaging.
What are you going to ask this trustee for? Any guesses?
Come on, we can get them to $1 million. Easy.
Congrats, through seven individuals, you’ve just knocked out $3.3 million for the Sleuthin’ Seals! We can officially afford our quarterback.
But don’t pat yourself on the back. There are still 21 other starters to pay for. And you’ve got a list of 20 other names to call.
Get back to work.
Did you enjoy this? Then help support a fun, inventive independent publication by becoming a paid subscriber. I’m asking for a lot less than a million dollars.
Check image via Freepik
