It’s here.
Ready or not.
Private equity and private capital are about to go haywire in collegiate athletics. Already thought you hated the transfer portal? Just wait. A new player, one more powerful than the portal or even the campus administrators who regularly slow or stop ambitious athletic department plans, is stepping onto the field. College sports are officially entering the private money era, and Utah is the school that is about to light the fuse.
First things first here … Private capital is like the broad world of “sports,” covering all kinds of private investment. Private equity is just one sport within it — like football — where firms buy in, take control, shape the playbook, and eventually look to exit with a win. Utah is calling this private capital, but the setup looks a lot like football, or private equity: outside operators, shared decision-making, and an expectation of real returns.
Outside money supporting athletics isn’t new. Learfield, Van Wagner, and others have guaranteed revenue to athletic departments in exchange for rights and long-term shares, and major donors have shaped department strategy for decades. But none of that resembles what is happening now. The next phase isn’t about incremental support — it’s about hundreds of millions of dollars, poured in rapidly, through an entirely new corporate structure backed by private equity and donor ownership. For years, rumors have swirled: FCS playoff pitches, Big Ten conversations, California pension fund interest. Everybody in the industry has been waiting for one school to take the first leap. Utah appears to be that school.
And according to administrators, this will break the dam.
“If you think conversations haven’t started, you’re living under a rock,” one AD told me.
Every administrator I’ve spoken with has fielded multiple formal pitches from private equity groups. A significant portion say they’ve taken those talks very close to the finish line. Once Utah finalizes its deal, the landscape changes overnight.
“This is about time we move away from the true academic model, especially in football,” said a sitting Power Four athletic director. “Football is a completely different animal. This is a forerunner to the next big move — a breakoff into some sort of super league.”
“The writing is on the wall,” a Group of Five AD added, “This is about to become a mad dash for athletic departments and campus administrators. This will really show which campuses back athletics and which don’t.”
Not everyone is enthusiastic.
“I worry about what this means for sports that aren’t named football or men’s basketball,” said an FCS AD.
Another Group of Five AD was more blunt: “We’re already in flux with the transfer portal, the calendar, and the CSC. This is bigger than all of them. We are completely f*****.”
At the heart of Utah’s shift is a new corporate structure: Utah Brands & Entertainment, a private, university-affiliated LLC that will oversee the athletic department’s commercial arm. The university will maintain majority ownership and ultimate decision-making authority, but operational power will be shared with executives from Otro Capital and a president hired from outside the university.
That president will report to a board chaired by athletic director Mark Harlan. The deal also comes with a massive infusion of capital — more than $500 million when combining Otro’s nine-figure investment with millions in donor purchase agreements from a curated group of supporters willing to buy equity shares. It’s unclear how the $500 million will be deployed and when.
A major wrinkle in all of this is Utah’s plan for donor ownership, a concept that blurs the line between booster culture and true financial investment. Donors will have the opportunity to purchase a stake in Utah Brands & Entertainment, effectively becoming part-owners of the athletic department’s commercial operations. And unlike most third-party partners, Otro Capital won’t just write a check. Their operators will be embedded directly into the strategy, operations, and commercial growth of Utah’s new enterprise.
It also means revenue has to come from somewhere, which tells me none of this will go to sports outside of the revenue-generating, self-sustaining ones like football or men’s basketball. Fewer than two dozen athletic departments actually turn a true profit across the country. That’s it. Most lose money and rely on student fees and institutional support to not even break even, let alone turn a profit.
Do I think this is going to change how the Utes run their athletic department immediately? No. Will it happen gradually, and after the honeymoon period is over, for fans, donors, and community members? Absolutely. As one Big 12 administrator told me, “Man, I am really jealous of what this could become. No way our department or campus would let this happen.”
This is where Otro’s background matters. Alec Scheiner, a Georgetown double graduate, brings more than 25 years of experience operating and investing in sports. He served as President of the Cleveland Browns, was a key executive with the Dallas Cowboys, where he helped create Legends Hospitality, and led RedBird Capital’s sports investment practice, originating deals with OneTeam Partners, Toulouse FC, Collectors Universe, the Rajasthan Royals, and more. He also advises Fenway Sports Group and invests in PGA Tour Enterprises. Scheiner is an operator first, investor second — a profile rarely seen in college athletics.
His co-founder, Isaac Halyard, previously worked at RedBird Capital on 14 major acquisitions across sports, media, and entertainment. Before that, he advised on high-level mergers, acquisitions, and financings at Goldman Sachs. A Stanford economics graduate and FC Harlem board member, Halyard was named to Sports Business Journal’s “New Voices Under 30.”
Together, Scheiner and Halyard built Otro Capital as an operator-led private equity firm focused on sports, entertainment, and media — exactly the kind of entity poised to reshape how athletic departments function in a world where the old rules no longer apply.
Whether Utah’s model becomes the blueprint or simply the first domino, the implications are enormous. For revenue sports, especially football, it signals a shift toward professionalized management and corporate structure.
For non-revenue sports, the future becomes more uncertain as financial priorities sharpen. For campus leaders, it forces a foundational choice: Is athletics a strategic asset or a cultural accessory? The schools that choose the former have already begun meeting.
Utah made the first move. The rest of the college sports world now has to decide whether to follow — or risk getting left behind.
