In 2016, there is an entire troop of “sports writers” that do little more than monitor social media daily.

The lowest-hanging fruit for this version of “journalism” — I use that term very loosely — is finding an ill-advised post from an athlete and then writing a cheap story around it. That’s what we call click bait.

Such-and-such player dissed an upcoming opponent on Twitter. Bam, that’s a story. So-and-so player posted a photo of himself hanging out at a club the night before a game on Instagram. Boom, that’s a story. Then, there are the married players that get caught sending direct messages to potential mistresses on Facebook.

Social media certainly has a role in sports. It’s a great tool for players to interact directly with fans.

Professional athletes — no longer under the thumb of the NCAA, of course — can also find creative ways to monetize their accounts with product placements. A one-click retweet can be worth thousands of dollars.

No matter the sport, today’s media-savvy players constantly talk about building a brand to increase their earning power beyond what they’re paid in the arena. Charitable endeavors and public appearances stand a much better chance of being successful if word has “gone viral” ahead of time via social media platforms.

However, for a college athlete, there is no upside whatsoever for having any type of social media account.

Former Ole Miss offensive tackle Laremy Tunsil is the latest example. Previously in the running to be the No. 1 overall choice in this past weekend’s NFL draft, he endured a brutally public slide down to No. 13.

Mere minutes before the draft started, video surfaced on Tunsil’s verified Twitter account of him smoking what appears to be marijuana from a bong affixed to a gas mask. Both the Baltimore Ravens at No. 6 and Tennessee Titans at No. 8 chose other prospects at his position, and neither was graded as highly as Tunsil.

While the video likely wasn’t the only factor, surely it had an effect once those teams were on the clock.

Tunsil’s excuse, naturally, was that his account was hacked. He’s been at the center of some family drama, plus the 6-foot-5, 310-pounder had recently fired a financial advisor. Somebody had him in the crosshairs.

But most observers are missing the lesson to be learned here — what future draft picks should take away. This isn’t about Tunsil needing to tighten his inner circle. This isn’t about a young man maybe having a problem with recreational drugs. This isn’t about something as simple as a better password for his phone.

Social media is a timebomb for collegians. It’s a countdown until an egregious error is inevitably made.

The millennial generation is criticized — fairly and otherwise — for its digital dependence, especially when it comes to collecting likes, favorites, comments and followers. That’s how many of them keep score.

College students, in particular, have the desire to document seemingly every apsect of their existence, no matter how exciting or mundane. If a fight erupts in a bar, for each patron that’s trying to break it up, there are a dozen attempting to capture it on video. Real life is never more than a Vine away from TMZ.

Most players have danced with Mary Jane. Tunsil’s mistake was letting the camera roll in the first place.

Seriously, what is the reward for a college athlete being on social media? Nobody has ever given me a good answer to that question. There’s no money in it and merciless scrutiny at every turn. What’s the appeal?

Players have been disciplined for making stupid comments on Facebook. Players have been disciplined for doing the same on Twitter, Instagram and whatever platform that became popular since you started reading this column. Some got suspended. Others got kicked out of school. Even getting arrested is on the table.

But what about the “social” aspect of social media? Fans adore being able to trade messages with players.

Remember, we’re talking about the Internet here. The world wide web can be dark, disturbing and dangerous. It’s not all box scores and cat videos. It’s mostly porn and trolls hijacking your favorite message board.

On National Signing Day, Alabama fans love to jump on Twitter to tweet congratulations at a recruit once he agrees to suit up for the Crimson Tide. However, you also have bad fans — oftentimes outnumbering the good ones, unfortunately — viciously insulting that same 18-year-old kid because he didn’t choose Auburn.

(Some Alabama fans are equally nasty toward Auburn signees. It’s just an example. It happens everywhere).

Social media’s downside — it cost Tunsil $8 million — is almost limitless. I’ve yet to uncover a benefit.

When a player wants to speak his mind, heaven forbid he posts something that can be loosely construed as insulting to one of his coaches. The blogosphere leeches will have him trending for all the wrong reasons.

Dealing directly with fans and cutting out reporters entirely is a terrific idea in theory, but there are too many morons out there with huge online muscles. Is there anything that brings out the worst in people faster than anonymity? And engaging haters is just a dreary rabbit hole littered with hazardous missteps.

More and more coaches are instituting policies that forbid the use of any social media during the season.

Draconian or not, it’s a measure that helps players focus on what’s important and cut out the clutter. The only status update required is “preparing for Saturday’s game.” Throwback Thursday can wait until spring.

Athletes themselves, especially the ones with legitimate professional aspirations, should go a step further and delete their social media activity entirely. Perhaps it will require a little more effort on the dating front, but football players did well with girls long before Mark Zuckerberg made his billions.

Collegians, I implore you to make like Tinder and “swipe left” on all social media. It’s not a good match.