Title: A New Playbook
The echoes of the Memorial Stadium crowd seemed to still hum in Tom Osborne’s ears, even though it had been years since he stood on the sideline as the head coach of the Nebraska Cornhuskers.
The stadium, the place where he’d crafted his legacy as one of the most revered figures in college football, now felt like a distant memory. His final coaching years had ended on a high note, but it was time for something new. The life he’d known as a coach, a mentor, and a figurehead was evolving.
Osborne, ever the reflective soul, leaned against the weathered wood of his porch. The evening sky stretched in hues of amber and violet. He had lived through decades of coaching triumphs, and yes, the inevitable challenges too. But this—this felt different.
He was taking on a role unlike any before. After his years of leading the Cornhuskers to national prominence and guiding young men through the rigors of football, Tom had found himself drawn back into the world of athletics, but not in the way most would have expected.
The NCAA had come calling, but not for his expertise in designing offensive schemes or advising on strategy. No, the committee needed someone to navigate the growing complexity of sportsmanship, ethics, and the evolving landscape of college sports. After years of being a voice on the national stage, it seemed Tom had finally found a way to use his experience for something bigger than wins and losses.
It wasn’t football he was focusing on now. It was a role that required not just knowledge of the game, but an understanding of the heart of it. They wanted him to become the NCAA’s new Head of Athlete Integrity and Development.
It was an odd title, one that didn’t sit comfortably with the image many had of him—an image steeped in championships, hard-hitting tactics, and undying loyalty to the gridiron. But this new path intrigued him. The NCAA had recently been under fire for its handling of NIL (Name, Image, Likeness) deals, recruitment scandals, and the pressures mounting on college athletes. Tom had spent decades witnessing the highs and lows of collegiate sports, and now, it seemed, the game needed a fresh set of eyes, someone who had seen it all—who understood the grit, but also the responsibility.
His years guiding hunters in the wilds of Nebraska as a shooting guide had taught him more than how to track deer or lead a group through dense forests. It had taught him patience, discipline, and the art of observing without interference. In those woods, he’d learned to wait for the perfect shot, to understand the rhythm of nature. Similarly, he believed he could bring that philosophy to this new role in the NCAA—waiting for the right moment for change and recognizing the underlying currents that shaped the world of college athletics.
When he sat down for his first day in the NCAA offices, the hum of the city felt unfamiliar. The world had changed since his coaching days, and now, instead of calling plays, he would be creating policies. Instead of instructing on the field, he would be teaching about ethics, responsibility, and the importance of building athletes who were more than just champions on the field, but role models off of it.
Tom’s experience as a shooting guide, often serving as a mentor to those who sought not just skill but wisdom in the outdoors, would now be put to use in guiding young athletes in the wilderness of the college sports system. His understanding of boundaries and balance would be key in helping the NCAA establish guidelines that would encourage personal development and academic success, while also ensuring fairness and integrity in recruiting practices.
One of the first issues on his plate was tackling the growing problem of NIL deals. As he sat in his office—surrounded by the trophies, memorabilia, and artifacts of a career well-lived—he couldn’t help but be struck by the parallels between college football in the ’90s and what the game had become today. The players were still incredibly talented, the competition fierce, but the stakes felt different now. The increasing pressure to market players’ names and images was warping the landscape in ways Tom hadn’t anticipated. He remembered how important it was for players to focus on the team, to put aside individualism for the sake of the whole. It was an ethos he would never abandon. But now, as athletes stood to make millions off their personal brands, that ethos seemed to be fading.
Osborne’s approach to the problem was not to attack the concept of NIL, but to refine it. He wanted athletes to benefit from their likenesses—but he also believed that there had to be a balance, where the individual could thrive without compromising the integrity of the team and the sport itself. As he began drafting new guidelines and meeting with school officials, he argued for a structure that emphasized personal development alongside the financial gains. His experience coaching young men and watching them mature, both as athletes and as individuals, told him that success shouldn’t only be measured in dollars and endorsements—it should also be about character, leadership, and preparation for life after sports.
His proposal involved creating a mentorship program that paired athletes with alumni who had successfully navigated the transition from college sports to professional careers. These mentors would provide guidance on how to manage fame, handle the pressures of social media, and build a long-term vision for life outside of sports. Additionally, he pushed for educational initiatives that taught athletes about financial literacy, so that they could make wise decisions when it came to their newfound wealth.
It was, in many ways, a new form of coaching—a coaching that focused not just on the field, but on the entire person.
As Tom’s reputation for thoughtful leadership began to spread, he found himself invited to speak at conferences, meet with university presidents, and serve on panels discussing the future of college sports. He was approached by former colleagues who had long since moved on from coaching to roles in broadcasting, business, and athletics administration. They wanted to know his thoughts on how to preserve the sanctity of college sports in an era of commercialism, competition, and constant change. It wasn’t that Tom didn’t understand the pressures of the modern game; it was that he believed there was a way to honor the tradition of college sports while adapting to the times.
Through it all, Tom Osborne remained calm and measured. He had seen much in his time in football, but this—helping shape the next era of athletes—felt like the most important challenge of all. It wasn’t about championships or glory anymore. It was about building the future of the sport in a way that honored its roots.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Tom felt that familiar sense of peace. It wasn’t a time for nostalgia, nor was it a time for regret. It was simply the next chapter. And in this new role, he knew one thing for sure—he would still be coaching. Just in a different way.
In this new playbook, the game had changed. But Tom Osborne, as always, was ready to lead.