For a hundred years, the deal was simple. You had the talent. Someone else had the phone numbers, the contract language, the market. So you gave them a piece of everything you would ever earn, for the privilege of knowing what you were signing.
That trade made sense when information was scarce. It is not scarce anymore.
Every roster, every stat line, every announced deal, every brand that signed an athlete like you this quarter: it's public. The words in your contract are not a secret language. "Exclusivity," "usage rights," "in perpetuity" can be explained in plain English in under a minute. The thing agents sold you was access. Access is free now.
What's left is the percentage.
The numbers
In the pros, the NFL and NBA players' unions fought for decades to cap agent fees on playing contracts, at 3 and 4 percent. Endorsement deals never got that protection, so 10 to 20 percent is normal there. And in college and high school, where nobody is watching, ESPN reported this year on "street agents": an NIL educator said he sees agents trying to sign young athletes to lifetime marketing deals worth 15 to 30 percent, and a survey done at ESPN's request put the median agent cut at about 20. The head of the Texas High School Coaches Association called it "almost at a crisis." About two in three of the athletes in that survey who answered said they agreed to give the person who helped them in high school a cut. A Texas apparel company proposed keeping 40 percent of merchandise revenue from college players.
Twenty percent of every dollar, for the whole life of the deal, from an eighteen-year-old. Not for negotiating. For knowing.
Senators have introduced a bill to cap agent fees at 5 percent. Florida tried in 2025 and the bill died in committee. The system will not fix itself, because the system is the fee.
So we're not waiting.
Leave
Leave isn't an agent. It makes you your own, and it belongs to you. It lives inside the AI you already use: ChatGPT, Claude, or Gemini. Say "Hey Leave." When you sign up, it looks up your public record and asks you to confirm it. Upload a contract and it reads every clause back to you in plain language, flags the exclusivity window, and puts every payment date on a timeline. It watches the public market and tells you which brands in your area signed players like you, and what they paid. It includes a seat for one person in your corner, a parent, a sibling, a friend, so you're never alone in it.
It costs $19.99 a month. It takes zero percent from you. Ever. That's the whole business model, and it's the opposite of theirs.
Leave doesn't negotiate for you and it doesn't give legal advice. It does something the old model never wanted you to have: it makes you the most informed person in the room. What you do with that is yours.
This is not a product launch
It's a transfer of power. Colleges started paying athletes directly last year for the first time in history. The money finally flows to the people who earn it. The last middleman standing between an athlete and their own career is the percentage, and we're here to end it.
Not for the agencies. Not for the schools. For the kid in Philadelphia with 210K followers and a smoothie deal she doesn't fully understand. For the parent who got a text from a stranger promising to "handle everything." For every athlete who was told this is just how it works.
It doesn't have to work this way anymore.
Here's what to do
- Get the app. Leave is on the App Store for iPhone and on Google Play for Android (in the United States), both linked below.
- Post the percentage you were asked to give up. Tag it #LeaveYourAgent. We'll publish the numbers in aggregate, without names.
- Send this to one athlete who needs it.
Be your own agent. Leave.
