No one used an electric prod to herd Shane Olivea into a hotel ballroom for a Monday morning press conference, but the Ohio State offensive lineman was still feeling fairly bovine.

“We’re like cattle,” he said. “We’re being used, basically.”

Don’t get him wrong. Olivea is happy to be in Phoenix, playing for a national championship in Friday’s Fiesta Bowl, staying in a ritzy resort in nearby Scottsdale, Ariz., sorting through a gift bag that includes a few hundred bucks worth of booty.

But Olivea, like many of his contemporaries, often wonders why everyone around college football is getting rich off these events except the main attraction: the players.

He sees Buckeyes fans walking around with Michael Doss replica jerseys sold in the campus bookstore, sees fellow students playing video games bearing his teammates’ likenesses, sees Columbus, Ohio, overrun with well-heeled alumni eight Saturdays every fall and wonders what happens to all that money.

Olivea sees per-team payouts of $11 million to $13 million for every BCS bowl, sees a national-title game that generates close to $50 million and a week’s worth of TV hype, sees vagabond head coaches making $2 million a year and can’t help but think things are out of whack.

“We make so much money for the university, and non-athletic parts of the university as well,” said Olivea, a junior journalism major from Long Island, N.Y. “I think it’s a crime we’re not getting paid.”

He sees a gambling investigation at Florida State, sees agents and their middlemen creeping around campuses across the land, sees kids leaving early for the pros and blames the NCAA for creating this unseemly environment.

“The shame is the NCAA is all about making money and not about helping their players,” he said. “It’s sad but that’s why guys leave early, that’s why guys take money.”

Olivea sacrifices his body — a broken ankle ended his sophomore season — and virtually every waking hour for the glory of the university industrial machine and wonders why he can’t afford to pay the rent or get a decent meal on the town.

“You put your hand in your pocket and you feel your leg, that isn’t a happy feeling,” said Olivea, whose 71-year-old father, Al, is a retired fireman living off a modest pension.

The solution? Olivea wants a monthly stipend during football season. He suggests something in the range of $2,000 a month, but would settle for a fraction of that.

Miami University safety Maurice Sikes said even $100 a month would make a difference and keep kids in school longer.

“Having a little money in your pocket, I think that would calm down on people going to the (NFL) so fast,” Sikes said.

The ostrich set can throw out a thousand reasons why college stipends should never happen. You’d be opening Pandora’s box, they say. What about losing football programs with lousy attendance? What about the lower-division schools? What about the non-revenue sports? What about Title IX?

I’m tired of such defeatist logic. It’s simply a matter of doing what’s right and making it work.