Sports is all about money.

"Sports is all about money." Thus declared Lynn Samuels, cutting through illusion with the sharpness of a blade. In this brief, unvarnished truth, she exposes the hidden heart of modern athletics: that while fans cheer for glory, loyalty, and the spirit of competition, beneath the banners and the stadium lights lies the relentless pursuit of wealth. Her words are not meant to wound, but to awaken, reminding us that behind every heroic contest, every traded player, every rising star, there is the silent, unseen master of money.

In the beginning, sport was born of ritual and necessity. The Greeks wrestled not for coin, but for honor before the gods; the Mayans played their ball game as a sacred echo of cosmic struggle. But as centuries turned, what was once pure contest became spectacle, and spectacle became market. The colosseums of Rome did not run on glory alone—they ran on coin, on patronage, on the wealth of emperors who fed the hunger of the masses with games. Samuels’ words are a reminder that this same Roman shadow lingers still: the arenas of today are built by profit, as much as by passion.

Consider the tale of baseball’s free agency revolution in the 1970s. Players once bound by contracts that paid them little, compared to the fortunes they generated, finally broke free. Salaries exploded. Stars were no longer just athletes—they became commodities, traded like treasures across the land. While this victory brought justice to the players, it also revealed the deeper truth Samuels names: that the engine of sport is fueled not simply by love of the game, but by the unending negotiation of wealth, contracts, and markets.

And yet, there is a paradox. For while money rules the stage, it does not extinguish the fire of the players or the devotion of the fans. The boy in the sandlot still dreams not of riches, but of victory. The crowd in the stands does not chant for revenue, but for triumph. Here lies the tension Samuels points to: that the essence of sport, which lives in the soul, often battles with the machinery of commerce, which lives in the world. The modern athlete must walk this knife’s edge, remembering the sacred origin of his craft while navigating the demands of the marketplace.

History offers us warnings. Boxing, once called the sweet science, has often been plagued by corruption—promoters who exploit fighters, bouts fixed for profit, champions discarded when no longer profitable. Behind the glory of the ring, many warriors left broken, their earnings stolen by the very system that profited from their blood. Such stories prove Samuels’ words true: when money becomes the sole god of sport, honor is sacrificed upon its altar.

The lesson is not to abandon sport, nor to despise money, but to see clearly. Money is the fuel, but it must not be the meaning. To the fans: love the game, but recognize the machinery that drives it. To the athletes: take your earnings with pride, but do not let them corrupt your passion. To the stewards of sport: guard against greed, for when profit outweighs integrity, the very spirit of the game is lost.

Practical action is simple, yet profound. Support the parts of sport that elevate character, not only wealth. Celebrate not only the million-dollar contract, but the perseverance of the player who gives his all. Remember the origins of the games you love, when they were contests of honor, ritual, and joy. And above all, keep your heart awake, so that you may see through the illusions that money casts upon the field.

Thus Lynn Samuels, with her blunt truth, reminds us that the golden thread of sport is always interwoven with the coin. Sports is all about money—but it is up to us to remember that beyond the money, there is still a heartbeat: the love of play, the spirit of struggle, and the glory of human endurance.