Last Thursday morning, hours before University of Michigan regents went nuclear on the Big Ten’s proposed $2.4 billion loan from a California pension fund, conference commissioner Tony Petitti was asked about the structure of the deal.
He mentioned how it was negotiated specifically to fit into the mandates of both public and private universities, then said something baffling.
“I don’t think about it much differently than if tomorrow our conference—or another conference—announced that they had tripled their media rights deals,” Petitti said on stage at Columbia’s Sports Management Conference. “I kind of think that’s what the responsibility of a commissioner is.”
It’s a silly comparison. Under the proposed deal, the Big Ten would receive $2.4 billion up front from UC Investments, an arm of the University of California pension system. In return, it would give UC Investments a 10% equity stake in a new commercial enterprise, and would pay the money back, with interest, over the next 20 years. That’s very different from the league’s media rights deals, in which money flows in just one direction over a much shorter amount of time.
Petitti obviously knows the difference. When I asked the Big Ten if he’d like to clarify the remark, I was told he was was speaking more generally about revenue opportunities and a commissioner’s mandate to explore them all.
But as college sports enters yet another year of flirting with institutional funds of all sorts—conversations that have drawn vocal pushback from fans, administrators and trustees—I’ve begun to pay close attention to how those in power talk about these deals. For starters, many leaders who once spoke vocally against institutional capital in college sports have changed their opinions over time.
Some of those same people also seem less interested in explaining what their potential deal actually are, and more interested in saying what they aren’t. That goes double for the term “private equity.” College sports has collectively agreed to define private equity by the narrowest of definitions, all while courting the very types of deals that are the hallmark of the industry.
College sports has collectively agreed to define private equity by the narrowest of definitions, all while courting the very types of deals that are the hallmark of the industry.
Twelve months ago, when asked about a proposed super league, spearheaded by PE and $9 billion in private capital, Petitti told reporters that “there’s a strong conviction that we can achieve all of this on our own.”
A few months later the Big Ten and Evercore, an investment bank that it retained as an advisor, solicited a first round of potential proposals from PE funds and other investors. That Petitti quote now sounds very similar to the complaints made by those who oppose the conference’s current proposal.
A few months later, when Elevate announced a new $500 million college investment fund, it said repeatedly it had already signed deals with two schools that would be revealed “soon.” After Sportico reported that the two schools referenced were Big Ten programs Penn State and UCLA, both schools issued strong denials. So far no Elevate deals have been announced.
Back in January 2024, when Sportico was first to report on Florida State’s conversations with Sixth Street and Arctos Partners, many around the process were adamant to point out that those conversations were private credit (or private capital), not private equity. That distinction, while real, seemed to doubly serve a marketing purpose. Not only did it distance the public school from unpopular associations—private equity doesn’t have a sterling reputation in many parts of America—but it honed the pitch made to the public.
Here’s how Yahoo Sports described a May 2024 interview with Drew Weatherford, whose fund partnered with RedBird Capital in a new institutional investment vehicle aimed at lending to athletic departments: “Weatherford describes Collegiate Athletics Solutions (CAS) as ‘private capital,’ not equity. There is no ownership here, he says. Schools have the freedom to be flexible with the $50-$200 million lump sum. It is meant to be spent with existing other capitals. … But the freedom is theirs.”
When UCLA refuted the idea that it might be signing with Elevate’s new fund, athletic director Martin Jarmond confirmed that the Bruins were exploring ways to expand its relationship with Elevate, but that “private equity funding is not involved.”
Jarmond said this despite the fact that Elevate itself is already private-equity backed, via investment from Velocity Capital Management.
The Big Ten showed this again last week, in an update on the $2.4 billion deal. “The conference has provided an option from a nonprofit partner—not private equity—that meets [its] objectives,” the league said.
Is UC Investments a private equity firm? No. But is this proposal an institutional investment into a private company with an equity component? Yes.
That “nonprofit” aspect appears central in how the Big Ten is messaging this $2.4 billion deal. Speaking at the Columbia event last Thursday, Petitti was quick to mention how important that was. (I asked the Big Ten if he would clarify why that mattered for a deal of this structure and have yet to hear back.)
Those opposed to the deal have their own terms, of course. Listen to Michigan’s fascinating regents meeting from Thursday afternoon, and they’re easy to spot. Jordan Acker, who opened the discussion, made a point to clearly group “private equity companies, and public equity companies, and pension funds.”
Speaking after him, board chair Mark Bernstein called the deal “a bailout,” and later, a “very big payday loan.”
“Make no mistake,” he said, “that’s exactly what this is.”
Forgive yourself if you’re confused, given the way people across college sports have spoken about these deals for the past few years.