Roughly an hour after the men’s college basketball season wrapped up in Indianapolis, where the Michigan Wolverines claimed the national championship on April 6, the program’s coaching staff had already gotten to work laying the groundwork to win another title the following year.
The transfer portal — a digital compliance tool and centralized database designed to systematically manage the transfer process for collegiate student-athletes — opened its window for Division I men’s basketball players at midnight immediately following the national title game. The opening sparked a firestorm of entries, with dozens of players entering the portal in search of massive name, image and likeness (NIL) paydays.
However, the general public has no verified, concrete information about which players are actually receiving compensation, or how much money any individual player is getting. In today’s disinformation-driven media landscape, unmoderated digital spaces have become a haven for fake news to fill this information vacuum.
Consider the case of University of Connecticut freshman Braylon Mullins, who became a household name across college basketball after sinking what many call the greatest shot of the last decade to upset Duke and knock the Blue Devils out of the East Regional Final. At the time of the post, Mullins had not announced any final plans for his future: he had not confirmed whether he would declare for the NBA Draft, return to the UConn Huskies for his sophomore season, or make the highly unlikely decision to leave the program and enter the transfer portal.
This ambiguity created a perfect opportunity for an X account to capitalize on Mullins’ newfound national fame. On April 12, @ShaneTuttleNCAA, a satirical account that can easily pass for the profile of a legitimate sports journalist at first glance, tweeted that “UConn G Braylon Mullins will hold the first ever ‘NIL Auction’ to determine what his next team will be, with the minimum bid starting at $6M.”
For most people who follow college basketball closely, the claim was obviously fake — it was far too outlandish to be a legitimate announcement. Even so, one of the most prominent and recognizable voices in college basketball was fooled by the hoax. Dick Vitale, the legendary ESPN color commentator famous for his infectious enthusiasm for the sport and iconic signature catchphrases, fell for the false post and chimed in with a comment in the tweet’s replies.
