College coaches are hawking "tradition" again — and the sales pitch lands while the universities behind them load students with debt and pay administrators six figures to manage the brand.

Kyle Whittingham, Michigan's new head football coach, made his pitch plain in a video clip posted by Football Alumni of Michigan. "As long as I'm here, it's going to be a big part of Michigan football," Whittingham told former Wolverines offensive lineman Andy Borowski. "They're welcome anytime they want in our practice facility. There's so much tradition and history at Michigan."

Essentially Sports framed the comments as a heartwarming commitment to alumni inclusion. The outlet highlighted the Football Alumni of Michigan's Teammate Assistance Program, which helps former players facing financial and medical hardship. Borowski, now FAM's chairman, said TAP "has helped many of our brothers overcome life's adversities, restored their pride, and reminded them we are still One Team, One Legacy."

That alumni safety net is worth noting — because it exists precisely because the university wasn't taking care of its own after they stopped generating revenue on Saturdays.

Whittingham called himself a "custodial" steward of the program. "Michigan football was here before I got here, and after I leave, it's still Michigan football," he said during 2026 spring practice. "I'm really in a custodial role here, just making sure I'm not here to change any of that tradition or history."

The same language appeared at the high school level this week. Servite High School in Anaheim hired Eric Borba as head baseball coach, and the press release quoted Borba saying he has "tremendous respect for the tradition and standard of excellence that define Servite Baseball." Servite athletic director Matt Marrujo praised Borba for embracing the school's mission of "Forming Faith-Filled Leaders." Rivals reported the hire straight, without examining what that tradition costs the families paying tuition.

Servite, it should be noted, is a private Catholic school that advertises "rigorous academics" and "competitive athletics" — the kind of institution that charges premium tuition on the promise of exactly the "tradition" Borba invoked.

The pattern is consistent across levels: coaches sell belonging, administrators collect the checks, and the people paying the bill — students and families — are told to feel grateful for the privilege. At Michigan, Whittingham arrived during what Essentially Sports described as a "tumultuous coaching transition marked by off-field headlines and national scrutiny." The cure? Open the doors to alumni, invoke Bo Schembechler, and wrap the program in the warm blanket of history.

Meanwhile, the University of Michigan's in-state tuition sits north of $17,000 per year and out-of-state tops $55,000. The athletic department generated over $200 million in revenue in recent years. Administrators at the top collect compensation packages that would make a corporate CEO blush. That's the tradition nobody mentions in the press releases.

Whittingham did break one tradition: he ended Michigan's practice of sending only seniors to Big Ten media days, instead sending sophomore QB Bryce Underwood and junior RB Jordan Marshall. Essentially Sports noted the change without much scrutiny. The old tradition was exclusionary; the new one serves the brand. Either way, the institution adapts to protect itself.

The question isn't whether tradition matters to players and fans — it clearly does. The question is who profits when that word gets weaponized to paper over the economics of modern college athletics.