When BYU reportedly restructured Kalani Sitake’s contract to the tune of $9 million, it wasn’t just a statement-it was a signal. A signal that the Cougars are serious about competing in the Big 12, serious about stability, and serious about rewarding a coach who’s done more than just win games-he’s helped redefine the program’s identity.
But not everyone saw it that way.
Elias Johnson, a senior at BYU, took a very public stance against the deal, penning a column that questioned not just the size of Sitake’s raise, but the values it represents. In his words, the contract was “disturbing,” and emblematic of what he sees as misplaced priorities at the university.
He didn’t mince words, writing: *“The recent contract our football coach signed is the latest example. As a BYU student, I am deeply disturbed by the attitude our university has taken toward athletics.”
Johnson went on to argue that the money could have been used for global humanitarian efforts or student scholarships, asking pointedly: “What does this suggest about BYU’s priorities?”
It’s a bold critique, especially coming from someone inside the BYU community. But while the ethical questions about college sports spending are valid and deserve space in broader conversations, the reality on the ground in Provo is this: Kalani Sitake has earned his extension-and then some.
Let’s look at the football side of this.
Sitake didn’t just inherit a program in flux-he navigated BYU through the uncharted waters of independence, held the ship steady, and positioned it for a successful leap into the Power Five world of the Big 12. That’s no small feat. He’s built a culture players want to be part of, and he’s done it with authenticity, consistency, and results.
Recruiting? Trending up.
Development? Strong.
Buy-in from players and staff? Off the charts.
And amid the chaos of college football’s new era-realignment, NIL, and the transfer portal-Sitake has provided something increasingly rare: stability. That’s why BYU moved quickly.
That’s why they locked him in.
This isn’t about nostalgia or loyalty. It’s about survival and growth in a hyper-competitive landscape.
Programs that want to stay relevant in the Power Five don’t wait around and hope their coach sticks around out of goodwill. They invest.
They commit. They pay.
And make no mistake-Sitake would’ve drawn interest elsewhere. Programs are always on the lookout for proven leaders who can win games and build culture. BYU didn’t just reward Sitake-they protected their future.
The reaction from the fanbase? Overwhelmingly supportive.
Not because $9 million is pocket change, but because it’s a reflection of where BYU wants to go. This isn’t 2007 anymore.
If you want to compete with the big boys, you’ve got to think-and spend-like one.
So while the debate over athletic spending versus institutional priorities will continue-and it should-this particular deal is about football. It’s about keeping a proven leader at the helm during one of the most pivotal stretches in program history.
BYU made a business decision. A smart one.
They backed their guy. And in today’s college football landscape, that’s not just acceptable-it’s essential.