The madness is almost over. Sixty-two games later, and my bracket has been obliterated.

Sure, baseball season is officially underway as the Mets mollywhopped the Cardinals last night, and the NBA playoffs are just a few weeks away. But the departure of college basketball for the next couple of months will assuredly leave a void in my life that can be satisfied only by some more cowbell.

But luckily, there’s still one game left: Florida’s probable thrashing of Ohio State tonight for the NCAA title. I’ll be watching all right, but not so much for the sake of hearing the Gators’ five starters talk about how much they love each other but, rather, to take part in the commercialization that has swallowed college sports.

With coaches like Nick Saban and Bob Stoops being paid ten times more than their respective universities’ professors, debate has emerged over whether or not players as well should be compensated for sacrificing their time and energy in college. Surely with college sports making so much money, it would seem only logical that the athletes at center stage deserve to reap some of the benefits and, thus, be paid cash stipends for their play.

However, such a policy would be impossible to implement, as universities would fail to pay all their student-athletes fairly.

First, the introduction of salaries to student-athletes’ recruitment would establish a slippery slope whereby college athletics could grow to closely mirror professional leagues. Prospective students could be persuaded to attend a particular school due to favorable monetary benefits.

So, of course, even if students were to be paid some form of salary, the stipends would have to be uniform across all of the NCAA schools. But therein lies even greater problems. At most universities, men’s basketball and football are the sole sports that bring home the bacon — in turn paying the bills for the schools’ other athletics. Stipends would not only have to match within the same sports at different universities, but also amongst all sports at all schools. Title IX would legally prohibit male athletes from being paid more than their female counterparts, even though men’s sports typically generate greater revenue.

And few colleges have the money to even dream of such an endeavor. After using basketball and football revenue to pay for smaller sports, hiring coaches and staff and awarding scholarships, little cash remains for the school. Only a handful of athletics programs are currently making a profit. Herego, in order to keep stipends equitable, athletic programs would have to draw money from outside the department, i.e., from increases in tuition — which is the last thing any of us want. Things would be worse for public schools, which bring in a great deal of money from the state.

Besides, athletes are the benefactors of many benefits aside from pure cash. One could argue that athletic scholarships are pretty much the same as a cash stipend. These student-athletes gain the advantage of a quality education in exchange for serving the greater school community.

Additionally, for those athletes hoping to one day make it in the bigs, universities provide great publicity, allowing prospective pro players to showcase their talent for scouts while at the same time earning a degree to fall back on.

However, if these prospective athletes really value money over a potential education, they can often choose to go pro. While it is possible to enter Major League Baseball without any years in college, both the NBA and NFL require some years in college, making the NCAA a kind of springboard into the pros. And as much as I may advocate the importance of a college education, we must recognize that situations are different for different people. Basketball and football players deserve the same option available to baseball players. Not everyone is meant for college, and that includes athletes.

The NCAA is, thankfully, light years away from even considering paying athletes. But with so many athletes and outsiders advocating for the opposite, the true madness may just be beginning.

Andrew Lomeli is a sophomore. Contact him at alomeli@stanford.edu.