This is an opinion column.

Life is math.

That’s one of my long-held adages. One that crystalizes how to assess the inevitable challenges and opportunities we all confront along this journey.

Math.

The answer to most dilemmas, options, and questions is often best discerned with an equation, by calculating the costs and rewards and balancing to help derive the most optimal conclusion.

To ascertain clarity.

Math.

That’s why I’ve been rubbing my clean-shaven head for months now over what’s transpiring regarding the future of Magic City Classic, the eight-decades-old rivalry between two of the state’s storied HBCUs: Alabama State and Alabama A&M. Played annually on neutral ground in Birmingham, almost smack in between their home cities Montgomery and Huntsville.

Played at the city’s Old Gray Lady on Graymont Ave, historic Legion Field.

The game has grown into an economic beast for the region, a Black family reunion that draws thousands, many of whom don’t actually give a hornet or bulldog who wins. Yet they come from far and near, many camping on stadium acreage for days leading up to the game on the last weekend in October.

They come and they spend, contributing millions to the local economy.

That’s why it’s become one of the largest annual fundraisers for the institutions (which bear zero expenses for the game). Each year, the respective presidents leave with a check comprising thank-you funds from the City of Birmingham and a significant portion of monies raised primarily through sponsorships and ticket sales (a good chunk of which are bought by the city).

Between 2016 and 2021 the total payout for each school, based on figures provided by the Alabama Sports Council (ASC), the non-profit entity that oversees sales and operations for the Classic, averaged $739,581. Last year, the payout was about $880,000, the largest for any HBCU encounter in the nation.

Math.

So, I’m rubbing my head. Now, with about five weeks until the 2023 Classic is scheduled—and after months of exchanges (emails, phone calls, and in-person meetings) that began just days after the 2022 Classic.

I’m rubbing my head because A&M unleashed an out-of-the-blue cease-and-desist letter Monday demanding the ASC stop using the institution’s logos or any photos depicting Bulldog players (or the mascot) in any platforms or products utilized to promote or sell the Classic.

Like tickets. Like sponsorship contracts. Like everything.

RELATED: Alabama A&M ires public officials with cease-and-desist letter

It was sent three days after school leaders received a 13-page contract proposal that came out of an August 25 meeting in Huntsville with ASC reps. Under it, ASU would receive an additional $1 million (above the $500,000 each school receives from the City of Birmingham) in 2023 and 2025, years when it is the “home” team, and $300,000 in 2024 and 2026. A&M would receive an additional $100,000 in 2023 (the lesser amount due to the lateness of the agreement), then $1 million in its “home” team years of 2024 and 2026, and $300,000 in 2025.

ASU had signed its end of the agreement months prior—math—while A&M officials dallied.

The letter—Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall was cc’d, for goodness’ sake— offered no clear indication of why it was sent or what A&M’s endgame might be, particularly with kickoff just a few weeks away. (A day later, it was revealed Alabama has shorted A&M some $527 million in funding over the last three decades, according to an analysis by two federal agencies.)

Neither A&M attorney C. Brandon Browning, who signed the letter, nor President Daniel Wims have responded to my inquiry, so I am left—like many curious A&M alums, students, employees, and even trustees—to speculate.

Perhaps the ultimate answer will be found in, of course, the math. In an equation initiated back in May when A&M officials announced the school would form a task force to oversee game-day operations for its “major” games, including the Classic. It would “[reimage] how game-day operations can be more impactful and advantageous” with a “plan to secure regional and national sponsors and other promotional activities,” they said.

Perhaps this task force, should A&M never engage in a contractual agreement with ASC, will be tasked with overseeing Classic operations during its “home” seasons, in 2024 and 2026—as is its right.

Perhaps with another group charged with securing sponsorships and managing game-day operations—as is A&M’s right (as messy as it may be to have two entities pitching the same corporations for the same event.)

Perhaps A&M is eager and willing to do the math itself, confident it will be able to net (not gross) more than the $1 million it is leaving on the table by foregoing the ASC contract proffered last week.

As is its right.

Perhaps—no, clearly—this storied rivalry has reached a new and unique crossroads.

Perhaps—no, definitely—the game has already begun.

The game of Classic math.

More columns by Roy S. Johnson

Alabama … a State of Fear

Clarence Thomas and Republicans are mocking us all.

Goodbye to an ‘uncle’ who stepped into the gap to help raise two father boys into men

Alabama’s non-parole board shows we’re not serious about prison, justice reform

Do we want our children to go to school or prison? State funding levels provide an answer

‘Skinny-shamed’ as a youth, Birmingham mom now a champion bodybuilder

I’m a Pulitzer Prize finalist for commentary, a member of the National Association of Black Journalists Hall of Fame, and winner of the Edward R. Murrow prize for podcasts for “Unjustifiable,” co-hosted with John Archibald. My column appears in AL.com, as well as the Lede. Check out my new podcast series “Panther: Blueprint for Black Power,” which I co-host with Eunice Elliott. Subscribe to my free weekly newsletter, The Barbershop, here. Reach me at [email protected], follow me at twitter.com/roysj, or on Instagram @roysj