NCAA far more gutless than the mob

Years before accepting Jesus Christ as his Lord and savior, Bobby Rush served as the “Defense Minister” in the Chicago chapter of the Black Panthers. Though he’s been a congressman representing the city’s South Side since 1993, it’s clear he still has a revolutionary’s gift for rhetoric.
“One of the most vicious, most ruthless organizations ever created by mankind,” Rush said during a symposium he organized the other day. “I think you would compare the NCAA to Al Capone and to the mafia.”
Unfortunately, even those who consider Rush an ally would agree he misspoke with his NCAA-mafia analogy. “From where I stand,” said Ramogi Huma, president of the National Collegiate Players Association, “It’s white-collar crime.”
Indeed, the mob has suffered enough indignities. There’s nothing left to be gained by this kind of gratuitous insult. At least back in the day, the mafia made its collectively dirty hands dirtier through the occasional use of manual, if brutal, labor. The NCAA, by comparison, doesn’t even have the balls. The dons of the college sports are content to merely filibuster — hey, let’s discuss the semantics of pay-for-play — as long as they can continue in their uninterrupted exploitation of the euphemistically described “student-athlete.”
It’s been a week since the NCAA deigned to allow member conferences to decide whether athletes on full scholarships should be eligible for a stipend, up to $2,000 to defray academic-related costs such as travel, parking, supplies and part-time wages (remember, some kids work their way through school?) lost because of the athletic commitment. This has incited another predictable debate on the nature of amateurism and an equally predictable, if laughably transparent disclaimer.
How dare anyone suggest that the stipend — both inadequate and tenuous in and of itself — was a form of pay-for-play? Rather, NCAA President Mark Emmert declared its purpose was to “more closely approach” the true cost of attending college.
More revealing was what he didn’t say. What he’s never said. And what he never will. The past months have been the most shameless period in the history of college sports. What passes for “realignment” would embarrass even the titans of Wall Street, who, if nothing else, endeavor to keep their larcenies secret.
Boise State can end up in the Big East.
West Virginia, which sued Rich Rodriguez for not honoring his contract, can sue to be let out of its commitment to the conference.
And the NCAA says nothing. Of course. News like this no longer shocks. Worse still, it fails to offend — and in large measure, because the NCAA, the supposed arbiter of amateur glory, behaves as if it were gagged. The organization says it’s bound by bylaws. Just the same, it’s gutless by nature.
The new round of television contracts means more billions for the BCS conferences and the athletic directors and the college presidents. Yes, the college presidents, those very same apostles of virtue long ago entrusted to safeguard the recommendations of the Knight Commission — remember that one? Now, if the frenetic, laissez faire course of realignment has done anything, it’s been to lay bare the greed and hypocrisy protected by the NCAA’s imprimatur.
“They’re showing their true colors by raiding each other — it’s a money grab,” says Huma. “It’s not about tradition. It’s not about rivalries. And it’s definitely not about education. You’re taking kids with a 50 percent graduation rate and sending them across three times zones to play ball. How is that about education?”
For the record, Huma is not against the $2,000 “stipend.” He just thinks that, like most NCAA solutions, it’s woefully inadequate. According to a National College Players Association study, the average shortfall at a Division I institution — the difference between the “full” scholarship and what it actually costs to attend the university — is $2,951 a year. In other words, of the 300-plus schools that play football in Division I, the “stipend” would knock about 20 schools off the average annual shortfall list.
In a related subject, it’s worth noting that the reform-minded NCAA has also (and finally) approved multiyear scholarships. In other words, schools can’t revoke scholarship pledges simply because an athlete is injured or hasn’t met expectations on the playing field. Again, Huma believes, on balance, this will be better than it was. By the same token, however, the length of the scholarship — one to five years — is basically up to the member institution. In other words, a school that’s flush can offer a blue chipper a five-year deal. A marginal prospect will be lucky to get a year. If that isn’t paying for play, I don’t know what is.
“It’s going to be the wild, wild West,” says Huma.
In the meantime, you’ll hear a lot about the “tipping point” in college sports. Disregard. It’s already tipped. If the new reality isn’t imminent, it’s inevitable.
“The No. 1 factor are these court cases,” says Huma. “They’re very vulnerable.”
He’s referring to, among others, a couple of class actions involving former UCLA basketball player Ed O’Bannon, whose suit hinges on the NCAA’s use of players’ names and likenesses in a fantasy game, and former Arizona State quarterback Sam Keller’s, who argues the NCAA shouldn’t be able to exploit him in a video game in perpetuity.
Agreed. But the court will take a while. In the meantime, I suggest an alternative course of action. The congressman’s radical apprenticeship should be an instructive example here.
Forget occupying Wall Street. The NCAA is located at 700 Washington St., Indianapolis. Occupy that.