If poetic justice had a face, it’d be grinning like Brock Purdy right now—$265 million richer and still rocking that same underdog smirk that Nick Saban once brushed off like lint on a Crimson polo. Picture this: The kid who got hit with “Average this, average that” just bagged one of the biggest bags in NFL quarterback history. From Mr. Irrelevant to Mr. You-Gotta-Pay-Me-Fifty-Three-Mil-a-Year. And guess what? Somebody’s old receipts just came back with interest.

Let’s take it back—Alabama, 2017. A teenage Brock Purdy walks into Tuscaloosa for a recruiting visit, probably hoping to get a look from the king of college football himself. Instead, Saban doesn’t even show up. Sends an assistant to do his dirty work. And that assistant, channeling his inner Simon Cowell, hits Purdy with: “You’re below average in height. Your arm strength is whatever. Your accuracy is average.”

Not even a handshake from the man himself. Just pure ice. Diabolical.

Fast forward to today—Purdy’s leading one of the most feared squads (not sure about the 2024 season) in the NFL, dragging the “system QB” label through the mud on his way to 2 NFC Championship games and a Super Bowl appearance. On Friday, he inked a five-year, $265 million extension with the 49ers, with $181 million guaranteed. That’s generational wealth.

And Paola Boivin, longtime college football insider and former CFP Selection Committee member, remembered. She hopped on X and let the clip fly: “He was the last pick in the 2022 NFL draft… Nick Saban said this (according to The Athletic): ‘You’re below average in height. Your arm strength is whatever. Your accuracy is average.’ Today, Brock Purdy landed a $265 million extension.”

You know it’s real when insiders pull out timestamps like it’s a rap beef.

What’s wilder is that Saban didn’t just misread a prospect—he flat-out didn’t know who he was talking about. Purdy’s entire game has always been about surgical precision and high-IQ throws. So when someone calls your biggest strength “average,” it’s clear they didn’t even watch your tape. The disrespect was so loud, it echoed into the NFL Draft, where Purdy was selected as the literal last pick—Mr. Irrelevant. Only now, he’s the most relevant name in San Francisco since Jerry Rice.

At Iowa State, Purdy set more school records than they had trophy space for. Then he slid into a Niners lineup and made it look like a Disney movie—except it was real, and it didn’t need CGI. Just an underdog who won against big dawgs. And Saban? Well, he might want to delete his scouting notes. Because clearly, the kid he ghosted just bagged ‘we set for life money.’

Nick Saban backs Donald Trump’s presidential commission for college sports

Now, while Purdy’s out here cashing receipts, Nick Saban’s out here collecting meetings—political ones.

Just days after questioning whether Trump’s proposed college sports commission was even necessary, Saban pulled the cleanest 180 you’ll see all offseason. One minute, he’s telling Paul Finebaum, “I don’t know a lot about the commission… I’m not sure we really need a commission.” Next minute? He’s shaking hands with Cody Campbell—a Texas oil tycoon, Texas Tech booster, and co-chair of that very commission.

Yeah. That escalated quick.

According to Ross Dellenger from Yahoo Sports, Saban and Campbell met up on May 16, just as the House v. NCAA case started heating up. For context, Campbell is the guy who sold his company for $3 billion in cash and Diamondback Energy stock—then turned around and poured millions into Texas Tech’s NIL program, the Matador Club. That same NIL club helped Tech grab the No. 1 transfer class in the country.

So now picture this: the godfather of college football and the NIL puppet primary sitting at the same table, handpicked to help shape the future of college sports under Trump’s commission. That’s not just a conversation—that’s a power shift.

Saban might’ve been skeptical on Monday, but by Friday, he’s part of the brain trust that could rewrite how money, transfers, and eligibility work across the NCAA. According to Dellenger, the commission will have no more than 10 people and is designed to have both political and cultural diversity. Translation? This isn’t any token committee. These folks are diving into the deepest parts of the game: Title IX loopholes, conference realignment greed, and that chaotic transfer portal nobody can seem to regulate. And now Saban’s right in the thick of it.

So what changed? Maybe it was the pressure. Maybe it was the realization that the Wild West of NIL and recruiting isn’t going to fix itself. Or maybe, just maybe, Saban realized that to protect what he helped build at Alabama, he had to get off the sideline and step into the policy war room.

Because let’s be real—college football’s model is hanging by a thread right now. The House case alone could upend amateurism as we know it. That’s billions in potential damages and a possible mandate for schools to pay athletes directly. Add in unregulated booster cash and poaching through the portal, and you’ve got chaos at the national level. And who better to slap some order on it than the GOAT?

So here we are. On one end, you’ve got Brock Purdy, living proof that scouting isn’t science. On the other, you’ve got Saban, quietly stepping into the commissioner’s office. One man was counted out and cashed in. The other is trying to prevent the next Purdy from slipping through.