Will Wade’s vanishing act and the Wolfpack’s wake-up call

By Donna King

Raleigh, NC – This past week has been a rollercoaster for Wolfpack fans, as men’s basketball coach Will Wade suddenly resigned to take a job at LSU. It’s not that we aren’t used to it. Being a die-hard NC State fan has always been a risk to one’s sanity. I remember being allowed to stay up late and cheer on the 1983 basketball team and storming Hillsborough Street as a student in the 90’s. It’s been a lot of “rebuilding years” since then, and there are a few more to come.

Prominent North Carolina conservative Dallas Woodhouse likely spoke for a lot of Pack fans when he made a social media post finding every possible way to make clear Wade has passed from hero to villain.

But this year, as a parent of three NC State kids, that rollercoaster hit a new high, and low. Wade’s sudden (to us) vanishing act to LSU highlighted that the coaches’ portal is always open.

College sports has historically embraced free markets for everyone except the athletes.

NC State basketball coach Will Wade at ACC Basketball Tournament (photo by Gene Galin)

While NC State ends this week with a positive reset, bringing onboard former Wolfpack basketball player Justin Gainey, with a love of the school and the game, it’s probably not the end of this saga. NC State could take legal action against Wade and LSU (justified, in my mind), but this whole thing is a reminder that coaches, like any other profession, operate in the labor market. They can leave for a higher paying job, negotiate a buyout, or sneak out when times are tough. It is a right to the fruits of their labor, even when sometimes rotten.

In the meantime, athletes generate ticket sales and build school athletics’ visibility and brand value. Under traditional NCAA rules, they could not profit from their work and talent. While students on academic scholarships could tutor for pay, athletes risked eligibility for monetizing their skills. The system recognized their value but denied their ownership of it.

This exemplifies the core principles of the John Locke Foundation, grounded in the philosophy of our namesake. Individuals possess natural rights, including the right to the fruits of their labor. While far from perfect, NIL aligns with a free-market ethos. This fleeting phase of life is precisely when all students, not just athletes, should learn that their effort creates opportunities, and that those opportunities can, in turn, yield real rewards.

NIL didn’t invent the college sports market, it removed artificial restrictions and corrected an imbalance. It’s certainly flawed; right now the transfer portal is a de facto “free agent” model, creating a sense of “transfer portal chaos” that has seeped into Washington. In March, US Sen. Tommy Tuberville, R-Alabama, introduced the Student‑Athlete Act, a proposal to curb constant roster shuffling with a five‑year eligibility window and limiting athletes to one free transfer, with additional moves triggering a sit‑out period. Should the federal government be in the business of setting such labor market rules?

Imagine a law directing that any plumber cannot switch companies more than once within five years or risk not working at all. Even if that plumber worked for a government-funded entity, it would be rejected on its face. I’m not arguing that there shouldn’t be guardrails, there should, but they should be set by schools and conferences, not the government. Nor should government money should go to NIL. If you want an even playing field, donate to smaller programs. 

Critics warn “they’re students, not professionals” or “It will ruin college sports.” Frankly, that ship has sailed. The commercialization already existed before NIL in TV deals, donor meetings, and sponsorships. It’s just that those playing the game now have a greater stake in it. Certainly, NIL has robbed us of the romanticism of the poor, talented student walking onto campus and becoming an athletic superstar, fiercely loyal to the school that gave him a shot. But NIL did not create inequality and profitability; that already existed. NIL just makes it transparent.

Following the uproar over Wade’s departure, he told reporters, “They’re pretty mad for a coach they didn’t think was very good.” He’s right on both counts.

Still, his short time in Raleigh reminds us that while coaches could always move freely between programs and profit from their expertise, the emergence of NIL recognizes that student-athletes should have comparable rights to benefit from their labor and talent. The NC State saga is a reminder that the rules of the game are shifting. When one side can profit from talent, denying the other the same opportunity no longer makes sense.

The system may be changing, the rules may be fairer, but the rhythm feels the same because, once again, “we’re supposed to be really good next year.”


Donna King serves as editor in chief for the Carolina Journal and Executive Vice President of the John Locke Foundation