So you think they’re amateurs?

Let’s not fool ourselves, former University of Missouri president Tim Wolfe’s resignation was about money.

$1 million dollars, give or take a few bucks.

The media attention and outrage that saturated Twitter and Facebook didn’t help Wolfe. But the crisis, which centered around race relations on the campus, didn’t reach critical mass until nearly three dozen black football players at Missouri said they wouldn’t play Saturday’s game unless Wolfe left his post.

A hunger strike didn’t force him out, neither did student protests. Nope, football and money.

No, Missouri isn’t soaked in football tradition like its SEC rivals. Yes, the team is 4–5 and playing a non-conference game. But it’s impossible to ignore the $1 million USA Today reported the school would have lost if the Missouri cancelled Saturday’s tilt against BYU.

And unless Missouri operates in some alternate universe, Wolfe is probably well versed in the old mantra of college life: students care about sex, faculty about parking and alumni about football.

Couldn’t ignore the alumni, their donations and their season-ticket packages.

And he couldn’t ignore the broadcasters that sold commercials, the hotels that banked on fans from Mizzou and BYU to converge on Kansas City (the game is to be played at Arrowhead Stadium), and the restaurants awaiting throngs of fans.

Since this was about money, and the players knew hitting the university in the wallet would force Wolfe from his post, let’s start calling the players’ action what it was: a strike.

The Missouri players said they wouldn’t show up to work if their demands weren’t met. Those don’t sound like amateurs, those sound like employees.

In the last year, the National Labor Relations Board waffled on whether players at Northwestern University have a right to collective bargaining. In September, the Ninth Circuit court agreed that some of the NCAA’s amateurism rules violate federal anti-trust protections.

But the Missouri decision to oust the president under extreme financial pressure put on the university by the football players may be the strongest proof thus far that those guys in the helmets entertaining thousands of fans and bringing in millions of dollars in revenue, well those guys are workers.

A strike at Missouri cost Wolfe his job. How long is it before other student-athletes organize strikes and start asking about money?