How Tennessee Transfer Alberto Osuna Emerged As A Leader Amid NCAA Eligibility Battle

Image credit: Tennessee's Alberto Osuna (Photo courtesy of John Paternoster)

When Alberto Osuna first set foot on Tennessee’s campus in early February, there was a tranquility about him. The way he walked, the way he carried himself, it was as if the uncertainty around him had no bearing whatsoever.

Yet, by all accounts, Osuna had every reason to be unraveling. His situation was anything but sure or predictable.

The 24-year-old yanked himself from Division II Tampa just two weeks before first pitch, instead diving headfirst into chaos to land at Tennessee.

In theory, Osuna’s plan was simple: secure a waiver for immediate eligibility, much like Vanderbilt quarterback Diego Pavia had done just months before. But Osuna’s path wasn’t Pavia’s. Instead of green lights and fast-tracks, he ran into a bureaucratic brick wall. First, his waiver for eligibility was denied by the NCAA. Then his motions for a preliminary injunction and temporary restraining order were shot down in court. 

Now, barring a miracle, he’s unlikely to play for Tennessee this season.

Still, though, he barely flinched. No outbursts. No frustration. Just that steady, quiet stillness. Failure, which he knew was possible, didn’t sway him.

“This kid’s been through the ringer so far,” Tennessee strength coach Quentin Eberhardt told Baseball America. “You can’t tell. It’s not like he’s walking around with his lip poking out or in a bad mood. The kid’s the same person every day and it’s genuine… He’s handling it a lot better than I probably would have at 24.” 

Osuna’s calm is a byproduct of his journey. He knows he’s been fortunate to reach every stop.

Coming out of high school, the first baseman and designated hitter had only four junior college offers and picked Walters State Community College in Tennessee. 

His first year there was humbling. He wasn’t a star or even a regular starter, appearing mostly off the bench in 19 games. Then the COVID-19 pandemic wiped out the remainder of his campaign. 

But Osuna parlayed success playing in a small, four-team summer ball league into a roaring sophomore season at Walters State, where he hit .459 with 25 home runs and 107 RBIs.

An offer from North Carolina followed, and he accepted. 

After three productive seasons with the Tar Heels, which included a trip to Omaha, Osuna transferred to Tampa because of an NCAA rule that granted players who had spent the 2021 season at a junior college an extra year of non-Division I eligibility.

But, in light of Pavia’s legal ruling, Osuna believed he he could regain another season of eligibility at college athletics’ highest level in 2025, which led him to the portal again. 

“We thought, with information that we received, that it was less of a risk that I wasn’t going to play,” Osuna told BA. “We all felt that it was going to be for sure that I was going to play.”

So he picked Tennessee.

“I just knew this was the place I wanted to be,” Osuna said. “It’s a great place for baseball and a growing community. The fans are phenomenal. The environment that’s here, really, is why I chose to come here.”

But Osuna hasn’t taken an at-bat in a game this season. He might never. Still, his impact on Tennessee, and even college athletics, could be seismic.

“I’d be lying to you if I said it wasn’t hard,” he said. “Being on the phone for hours in the morning and then coming to the field and having my mind be everywhere—I just know I have baseball to separate that. I learned in my fifth year that whenever I’m on the field it’s a blessing. Every single day my mind clears and I’m able to enjoy it as much as I can. I’m just trying to help this team win. Everything else is out of my mind.”

Osuna’s Case Falls Into An NCAA Gray Area

While Osuna’s battle to gain eligibility has taken on a personal nature for Tennessee, it’s ultimately purely legal. And it’s murky.

His case stemmed from the broader legal precedent set by Pavia’s ruling. Pavia, a college football player, was granted an extra year of eligibility when the court ruled that junior college seasons should not count the same as Division I years under antitrust law. That outcome led the NCAA to reluctantly issue a blanket waiver allowing athletes who exhausted their Division I eligibility at the end of the 2024 semester to receive another year.

But Osuna’s case falls into a legal gray area, according to the two court rulings against him. He exhausted his eligibility last year, not in 2024-25.

“This is all kind of uncharted territory,” said Sam C. Ehrlich, assistant professor of legal studies at Boise State University. “The NCAA issued a blanket waiver covering athletes who exhausted their Division I eligibility at the end of this year. But what if you exhausted it last year? That’s where Osuna and others are caught.”

Ehrlich explained that Osuna’s case, along with several others, is essentially a test of the NCAA’s consistency.

“They’re saying, ‘Hey, we have the exact same case as Pavia, we’re just a year behind,’” he said. “The NCAA doesn’t want this to expand further, so they’re drawing the line as narrowly as possible.”

With the legal process ultimately ruling in the NCAA’s favor, Osuna and others like him were left with few options and long-shot odds of a favorable outcome.

“After the Blanket Waiver and conversations with you, I uprooted my life and moved to another city with the expectation that I could continue to play the game that I love,” Osuna wrote in a fiery letter to the NCAA. “It was an amazing opportunity to have the chance to come play for coach Vitello and the defending national champions. But I also came here for the NIL potential that didn’t exist at Tampa and to be able to help my family and I financially.”

Osuna could appeal to the Sixth Circuit Court, but the chances of a swift victory there are slim. 

“If he appeals, there’s certainly a legal argument to be made, and he might even win at trial,” Ehrlich said. “But the biggest limiting factor is just timing. He’d have to file an emergency appeal, and courts don’t like to rush decisions like this.

“Without emergency status, this could take years.”

The NCAA, for its part, is fighting back. It remains steadfast in its refusal to grant eligibility, arguing that the previous ruling doesn’t apply to players like Osuna.

Vitello doesn’t buy it.

“If one student-athlete should be able to play, then another should,” he said. “It’s not about sport. It’s about fairness. And baseball has always been the easiest sport for the NCAA to pick on.”

Osuna’s Impact Goes Beyond The Field

What do you do when you’ve spent your entire life training for something and then, in an instant, it’s taken away?

For Osuna, the answer was simple: find another way to contribute.

“I just want to help this team win,” he said. “Even if I’m not the one hitting the home runs, I want to do my part.”

In the dugout, he’s a mentor. First basemen lean on him for advice. Younger players seek his guidance after a tough at-bat. He’s a source of perspective, telling them that a bad day at the plate doesn’t define them.

In the weight room, he’s a leader. He lifts, trains and prepares like he’ll get the call to play, even if he knows that call might never come. He sets the standard for work ethic, making it impossible for anyone else to cut corners.

“Lets say you have a player who isn’t buying in as much as you wish,” Eberhardt said. “You point to Berto and say, ‘He’s only been here since January, what’s your excuse?’ As a coach, Berto makes it easier to say to other guys, ‘Look at your brother to your right.’ He sets a great example.”

His presence has been transformative for Tennessee’s culture.

“He’s given this team a calmness and maturity,” Vitello said. “We’ve had a volatile program in the past, but he’s changed things for the better.”

Eberhardt echoed that sentiment.

“You can’t tell that he’s going through something tough,” he said. “He’s the same person every day. And that’s contagious.”

His teammates have responded in kind. When the Volunteers took the field for batting practice on Friday, they wore shirts with the words ‘Free Berto’ emblazoned across the chest—an outward show of support for the player who has already given them so much.

“He just sucks you in,” Vitello said. “He did it in a hurry here, which is weird because he came here to take guys’ at-bats and innings and yet everybody loves him.”

Osuna’s Story Will Transcend This Season

Maybe Osuna will get his eligibility back. Maybe he won’t. Either way, his impact at Tennessee will last beyond this season.

Although he trains as if his name could appear in the next game’s lineup card, he’s also transitioned into a coaching mindset. He sees the game differently, absorbs knowledge at every turn and has built relationships with Tennessee’s staff that will serve him well when his playing days end, whenever that day comes.

“He’s gonna be a hell of a coach,” Eberhardt said. “The way he sees the game, the way he carries himself—it’s special.”

Vitello feels a responsibility to ensure that, if Osuna doesn’t get to play, his time in Knoxville is still meaningful.

“He could’ve stayed at Tampa and had an easier road,” Vitello said. “But he wanted to be here, be part of something bigger. We owe it to him to make it worth his while.”

For Osuna, the fight continues. His eligibility battle is part of a larger conversation about fairness in college athletics. He knows that, even if he can’t take the field, his case could set a precedent for future JUCO players in similar situations, a responsibility he hadn’t quite pondered but appreciated.

His coach hopes his case can lead to more clarity.

“What definitely shouldn’t happen is there should not be stuff left up to interpretation,” Vitello said. “It should be very clear-cut. And you know, in this case and other things, you know, things are left up to interpretation and some of these kids don’t have the resources to hire a lawyer, or if you’re at a D-II you may not even have a compliance person that you could go ask questions. At the end of the day, you know, regardless of what happens for Berto here, these kind of changes need to happen.”

More than anything, Osuna just wants to win. He wants to help Tennessee get to Omaha, whether it’s by taking the field or by being the heartbeat of the dugout.

“If you told me we win a national championship but I don’t get to play, I’d take that deal,” he said. “This team, these guys—they mean that much to me.”

Osuna’s impact at Tennessee might never be measured in stats or highlight reels or home run distances, but in the way he’s lifted an entire program, even without stepping onto the field. It’s in the respect of his coaches, the admiration of his teammates and the way Tennessee’s program, hardened by the grind of the game, can’t stop talking about him.

No matter how his case ends, Osuna has already won something much bigger.

“I’ve been here a month and the support that this team, coaches, fanbase have given me,” Osuna said, “if I had to give up this year, then that’s what I had to do. I’m proud to be at Tennessee.”