In Light of Ole Miss Case, USC Fans to the NCAA: Do Your Job
The University of Mississippi has self-imposed a one-year bowl ban on its football team in response to an updated notice of allegations by college football’s governing body, the NCAA.
The NCAA released the updated notice of allegations Wednesday morning, which lists 21 assertions of impropriety by the football team. Eight of which are new, and the rest stem from a report issued in January of last year.
Among the allegations, 15 of them are of Level I variety, which the NCAA views as the most serious.
Included in the report are the dreaded words “lack of institutional control,” which, in college football terms, means ya dun goofed. If found guilty by the NCAA’s Committee on Infractions — its own arbitrary court system — you’re likely to see a bit more severe penalties than a self-imposed one-year postseason ban.
Although, if recent history is any indication, you probably won’t.
The University of Southern California and its fans have a complicated relationship with the NCAA. (I use the term relationship loosely).
USC and the NCAA have a relationship in the same way that a young child has a relationship with an abusive, alcoholic stepfather whose wanton rules benefit his own children while simultaneously punishing that of the stepchild.
Basically, it’s not a healthy one.
In June of 2010, the NCAA used the phrase lack of institutional control and backhanded USC with the harshest sanctions since the “Death Penalty” on Southern Methodist University all the way back in 1986.
Among the penalties levied against the Trojans was a two-year postseason ban, a loss of 30 scholarships over three years, and the vacating of all wins from 2004–2005, including the BCS championship win over Oklahoma. Additionally, Reggie Bush, the focus of the NCAA’s investigation, had to return his Heisman Trophy to the Heisman Trust — the first such occurrence in the trophy’s storied history.
And what was the reasoning for the NCAA’s harsh punishment on Southern California’s football program?
Star running back Reggie Bush and his family had received gifts from a wannabe sports agent, Lloyd Lake, which totaled somewhere in the ballpark of $250,000. Most of it was in the form of rent-free living for Bush’s parents in a very modest house located in San Diego, their hometown. (Accepting gifts while enrolled in college as a student-athlete is against the rules, and renders the athlete ineligible).
For the NCAA to slam USC, they created a new rule, which basically stated that the USC coaches created a culture of “non-compliance” and that they should have known about Reggie Bush’s misdoings because “high-profile athletes demand high-profile compliance.” Let me be clear: these rules had no precedent; they were created just for the USC case.
Additionally, the NCAA needed to somehow prove that a coach affiliated with USC knew about Bush’s violations, that way they could slam the Trojans with whatever punishment they deemed acceptable. The Committee on Infractions achieved this on the basis of a two-and-a-half minute phone call between running backs coach Todd McNair and then-agent, now-convicted felon, Lloyd Lake. The contents of the call were unknown.
The NCAA essentially had to grasp at straws to create a case against USC — and they knew it. They fabricated evidence to reach a predetermined conclusion of guilt, and the only reason we’re now learning about this is because Todd McNair is currently in the midst of a heated lawsuit with the NCAA for defamation of character, which means that home-field California judges get to reveal the shady, juicy details of the NCAA’s protocol (or lack thereof).
From a report released by the three-judge panel overseeing the lawsuit:
“This evidence clearly indicates that the ensuing (NCAA infractions committee) report was worded in disregard of the truth to enable the (NCAA committee) to arrive at a predetermined conclusion that USC employee McNair was aware of the NCAA violations.”
It continues:
“To summarize, McNair established a probability that he could show actual malice by clear and convincing evidence based on the (committee’s) doubts about McNair’s knowledge, along with its reckless disregard for the truth about his knowledge, and by allowing itself to be influenced by nonmembers to reach a needed conclusion.”
In one email sent between NCAA staff members discussing the case, one staffer called McNair “a lying morally bankrupt criminal, in my view, and a hypocrite of the highest order.” That statement doesn’t exactly bleed rationality and impartiality. Quite the opposite.
In essence, an agent unaffiliated with USC paid Reggie Bush to leave college, and the NCAA decided to crucify the Trojans on the pretense of fabricated evidence.
Since the sanctions, the USC football program — once on top of the college football world — has had to crawl its way back into college football’s limelight while simultaneously watching the NCAA turn a blind-eye to a litany of violations by some of the other premier programs of the sport.
Here are some examples:
Auburn, Mississippi State, and the Newtons
Cecil Newton, Cam Newton’s father, sought somewhere in the ballpark of $120,000 to $160,000 from Mississippi State in exchange for the commitment of his uber-talented quarterback Cam Newton. Newton ended up enrolling at Auburn, and the true amount of money received by Cecil is unknown.
The connections in the case were shaky, but if the NCAA really wanted to go after Mississippi State or Auburn, they probably could have, as Newton would have been ineligible during the 2010 season when he carried the Auburn Tigers to a national championship.
Both programs were saved because Cecil Newton argued that his son Cam was unaware of the pay-for-play deal that the father bartered for — an argument that USC was convienently not allowed to use in its own case a year earlier.
Penn State and Sandusky
If there ever was a case where lack of institutional control would absolutely fit, it’s this one.
In 2011, former Penn State football assistant coach Jerry Sandusky was indicted on 52 counts of child molestation. These incidents occurred over dozens of years and included the willing cover-up of the scandal by Penn State school officials and the beloved head football coach, Joe Paterno.
This was an institutional failure of the highest level. (Although, the Baylor scandal isn’t far behind).
The sanctions? Pretty heavy, initially.
It included: a four-year postseason ban, $60 million fine, a loss of 40 scholarships over four years, and all wins from 1998 to 2011 were vacated.
Due to pressure from the university and the threat of a lawsuit from Pennsylvania Governor Tom Corbett, all of the sanctions ended up being lifted, aside from the first-year postseason ban.
A serial child sex abuser was shielded from legal consequences by school officials for over three decades, and all they got was a one-year bowl ban.
Let that sink in.
Miami Hurricanes and Nevin Shapiro
The Miami Hurricanes football team was investigated in 2011 due to accusations that booster Nevin Shapiro provided improper benefits to players and coaches from 2002 through 2010.
Shapiro, convicted of securities fraud and money laundering relating to a Ponzi scheme in 2010, used investor funds as donations to the University of Miami, which included handing out cash and gifts to current and former players.
This included strip club visits, parties on yachts involving hookers, and even an abortion for one of the women that a player knocked-up.
The irony of it all?
Paul Dee, who served as the chairman for the Committee on Infractions that handed down the punishment on USC in 2010, was also the Miami Athletic Director while these violations were taking place.
Steward Mandel writing for Sports Illustrated sums up Dee’s involvement:
Dee, you may recall, was the Committee on Infractions chairman for USC’s much-publicized case last summer involving former stars Reggie Bush and O.J. Mayo. It was Dee who, in announcing some of the stiffest penalties of the last 20 years (a two-year bowl ban and 30 docked scholarships), closed with the preachy reminder that “high-profile athletes demand high-profile compliance”. Dee, Miami’s AD during most of the period covering Shapiro’s allegations, is retired and no longer under NCAA jurisdiction. Still, it seems only fair he should spend a day at USC’s Heritage Hall wearing a sandwich board with the word “Hypocrite.”
The punishment for Miami? A self-imposed two-year bowl ban and a loss of nine scholarships over three seasons. Some folks were talking about the possibility of the Death Penalty for Miami — a program that has a long history of non-compliance. Instead, they received a cute slap on the wrist.
The point is: The NCAA isn’t exactly the torchbearer of enforcement consistency, and they proudly hoist that flag while tossing USC the middle finger.
That brings us to Ole Miss.
Which, at this point in time, ain’t sittin’ too pretty in the eyes of the NCAA.
The list of allegations against them runs deep, which includes:
- A pair of Ole Miss boosters supplying a recruit with roughly $13,000 in cash in exchange for his talents. The punchline? The player signed elsewhere.
- An assistant helped linkup players with a booster who would supply impermissible benefits, which included free lodging, transportation, and meals.
- Two former Ole Miss assistants helped fix recruits’ ACT scores so they could attend Ole Miss.
- During the NCAA investigation, an Ole Miss staffer knowingly lied to the NCAA.
Among college football fans, you’re likely to find very little sympathy.
Ole Miss isn’t exactly what you would call an attractive place to play if you’re a young, up-and-coming football recruit. They don’t have the greatest facilities and don’t exactly have a long tradition of winning. They’re not what you would call a “Blue Blood” program. The school is also located in Mississippi, which is reason enough to go elsewhere. (I joke. I’m sure Oxford is a beautiful place).
So when the school all of a sudden began shooting up the national recruiting rankings, grabbing some of the best athletes the school has ever seen, those involved in college football began to be suspicious — and rightfully so.
And now, the NCAA finds themselves at the plate, awaiting the easiest home-run ball that they will ever lay eyes on.
The stars have aligned in the Ole Miss case for a “cant miss.” They have the perfect combination of witnesses, clear paper trail, reeking arrogance of a coaching staff who thought they were untouchable, and a public university that isn’t shielded by Blue Blood status.
All they have to do is execute.
But, of course, the NCAA wouldn’t be the NCAA if they could be relied upon. The organization is a national laughing stock for a reason.
The organization can never redeem itself in the eyes of college football fans, coaches, sports writers, and especially those associated with USC.
They can try. Although, what we’re really asking of you, NCAA, isn’t much.
Please, for this one time: just do your job.
(I won’t hold my breath)
