Paul Finebaum wasted no time dismantling Deion Sanders’ idea for implementing a salary cap in college football, branding the concept naive and calling out Sanders as “a politician” who hasn’t personally endured the system’s current chaos ). During a Big 12 event this week, Sanders argued that college football should mirror the NFL by instituting a cap on what athletes can earn, reasoning it would curb runaway NIL spending: “All you gotta do is look at the College Football Playoff and see what those teams spent, and you’ll understand darn well why they’re in the playoffs,” Sanders asserted. “So the problem is, you got a guy that’s not that darn good, but he could go to another school and they give him a half‑a‑million dollars. You can’t compete with that.”Finebaum was quick to poke holes in that logic, pointing out the irony of Sanders—whose own players, Shedeur and Travis Hunter, made “huge NIL money in 2024”—calling for fiscal restraint. Finebaum framed Sanders’ proposal as emblematic of a politician seeking change without real accountability: “Deion is a politician. He sounds like he’s running for the Senate.”
The ESPN commentator further undermined Sanders’ credibility by stating: “I just find it amazing that Deion Sanders, who had a generational player of our lifetime on his team last year, really didn’t go very far and is asking for a paradigm shift.” Implicit in Finebaum’s words is the notion that Sanders has already leveraged the system effectively—so much so that adjustments now seem self-serving.
This clash is only the latest in a series of public confrontations between Finebaum and Sanders. Finebaum has repeatedly taken aim at “Coach Prime” over his combative stance toward media and administration. In August 2024, when Sanders banned Denver Post columnist Sean Keeler from team pressers following what Sanders described as “sustained, personal attacks,” Finebaum blasted the move as “disgraceful,” accusing Sanders of acting like a bully and hypocrite. During an appearance on ESPN’s Get Up, Finebaum denounced Sanders’ refusal to field tough media questions: “Coach Prime is showing he is not ready for Prime Time… treating reporters like this seems like we’re in some autocratic country… he wants to have it his way.”
When Sanders later attacked sports journalists harshly—accusing them of jealousy because players now earn more money—Finebaum again took offense, labeling the remarks “spineless” and “pure gaslighting”. On First Take, Finebaum countered, “Deion, right there, was purely gaslighting. … It looks to me like he’s living in an alternative universe.”
Taken together, these skirmishes have built a narrative where Finebaum portrays Sanders not as an earnest reformer but as a flamboyant opportunist who thrives on media attention and personal branding. He’s repeatedly accused Sanders of being more focused on spectacle than substance, with grabs for headlines taking priority over steady program-building.
That critique extends to performance as much as policy. In mid‑2024, Finebaum said Colorado’s confidence was “ridiculously inflated,” highlighting that “Colorado isn’t important in college football,” and “they don’t matter.” Moreover, he questioned whether Sanders has the patience to stay long enough to make the College Football Playoff: “Anyone asking whether Deion Sanders and Colorado are close to the playoffs simply doesn’t understand the reality… I’m not sure Deion Sanders is ever going to get them to the playoffs because I don’t think he has the patience to stay at Colorado long enough.”
Finebaum reminded audiences of Colorado’s disappointing 4–8 season the year before and cautioned listeners not to get swept up in hype. He specifically rebuked hype generated by quarterback Shedeur Sanders’ declaration that Colorado was “everybody’s Super Bowl,” saying bluntly: “Shedeur, you are not… Colorado is nothing. They don’t matter. They’re irrelevant in the big picture of college football.”
Sanders has struck back against Finebaum’s narrative, going on record to mock him as part of a “dying breed” in sports journalism: “How can we be irrelevant and you talking about me? … he’s a dying breed… he’s trying to find that big bad wolf … to keep his relevancy.” As Sanders sees it, Finebaum is merely clinging to controversy in a media landscape he no longer controls.
But Finebaum’s response is that Sanders has forfeited that battle by silencing dissenting voices and skewing the press access model at Colorado and previously at Jackson State. He argues this style isn’t leadership—it’s authoritarianism disguised as charisma. As Finebaum put it, “He wants to have it his way and I find him to be a bully and a hypocrite.”
Amidst these personal and philosophical confrontations, Sanders’ salary cap proposal looms as the most recent flashpoint. To Sanders’ mind, capping player earnings would level recruiting fields and reward excellence—he compared it to the NFL model and expressed his frustration with wealthy programs outspending others. But Finebaum’s counterpoints are multifaceted: first, Sanders himself has benefited from NIL generosity and is thus complicit in the existing system he now criticizes. Second, Finebaum believes the notion of a cap is politically charged, lacking feasibility and self-awareness; it’s the kind of broad-stroke solution typical of politicians with no track record in governance or implementation. Finebaum framed it as “a paradigm shift” demanded by a man who hasn’t “gone very far” in navigating the real-world complexity of modern college football.
Taken as a pattern, Finebaum sees Sanders as a salesman first, coach second, strategist third. His arguments are bold, but so far they haven’t translated into long-term dominance on the field—the Buffaloes’ 14–16 record over Sanders’ first two seasons is middling, and Still unanswered is whether he can sustain success as portal-driven strategies give way to deeper builds. Finebaum’s posts linger: will the real Deion step up, or will the spectacle fade without the infrastructure to support it?
While Finebaum paints Sanders as hypocritical in calling for regulation while enjoying the benefits of deregulation, Sanders pushes back, contending that Finebaum is outdated and clinging to a fading media paradigm . But regardless of who’s right, the clash spotlights deeper tensions: tradition vs. transformation, oversight vs. free-for-all, nostalgia vs. next-gen sports dynamics.
Finebaum frames Sanders’ rhetoric—and the people rallying behind it—as part of a marketing campaign more than a reform movement. With Colorado still outside the playoff conversation, and with NIL and transfer chaos reshaping sport, Finebaum’s critique is that Sanders pushes soundbites, not solutions; sells emotion, not strategy; invokes nostalgia while scapegoating administrators and media.
His charge suggests that Sanders’ brand of leadership—defined by bold pronouncements and media manipulation—may boost visibility and spark short-term excitement, but could falter when tested against the structural demands of sustainable program development, competitive recruiting, and equitable regulation. A salary cap, Finebaum notes, may serve Sanders’ image more than it would serve the system, given the coach’s existing success under the current economic structure. At best, Finebaum views it as populist posturing; at worst, personal branding dressed up as change leadership.
Ultimately, Finebaum’s latest criticism is a continuation of his long-standing skepticism toward Sanders’ blending of entertainment and athletics. He questions Sanders’ sincerity, points out inconsistencies, and challenges the substance underneath the showmanship. Whether the salary cap idea gains traction or fades alongside other grand gestures, Finebaum’s message is clear: talk is easy, transformation is hard—and Sanders is all talk.
