The return of Tiger Woods last week picked up the saga right where it left off, with another round of poor judgment and questionable behavior. Masters chairman Billy Payne unwisely tried to claim the moral high ground by publicly scolding Tiger for "egregious" and "disappointing" conduct, though his tournament did not allow blacks to play until 1975 and the Augusta National course didn't have a black member until 1990. Then Nike used the voice of the late Earl Woods to admonish Tiger before an even larger audience, in a commercial designed to rehabilitate its star's frayed image so it can sell more $90 golf shirts.

While Tiger was getting all the scrutiny, another sports figure demonstrated even more chutzpah last week. Congratulations go to Texas basketball coach Rick Barnes, who managed to make an amazingly tone-deaf statement and gain relatively little attention for it. In case you missed it, here's what Barnes told ESPN The Magazine:

"We would love to win a national championship, but we're not obsessed with it, because we're obsessed with these guys trying to live their NBA dream," Barnes said. "What's happened to Kevin Durant, LaMarcus Aldridge, T.J. Ford -- I'd give up a national title for all of our guys to be able to live their dream."

Just to recap, Barnes earns $2.15 million per year to coach the men's basketball team at a public institution of higher learning. An average of 14,629 fans attended the Longhorns' home games last season; thousands more follow the team on TV or radio and buy its merchandise. Those folks, and the university, certainly want to see a national title. That's the dream they're paying for.

Barnes' loyalties, though, apparently lie with preparing a handful of players to jump to the NBA. Four prominently placed paragraphs in his official biography note his "huge role in producing individual success," and there are seven former Longhorns playing in the NBA this season. But in his 12 years in Austin, Barnes has coached dozens more players, including many who aren't NBA material. A national title would mark the highlight of their athletic careers, but their coach has now admitted that is less meaningful to him than getting lucrative pro contracts for the few.

Of course, Barnes has since protested that his remarks were "taken out of context," an excuse that follows ill-considered statements as reliably as the sun rises. And in one sense, there's no shame in standing by them. At least he's being honest about his intentions.

It's become a rite of spring to speculate about how many players will abandon their college teams early so they can chase NBA riches. Their coaches -- many of whom make more money than university presidents or professors or researchers -- will wish them well, then use their success to recruit other young men who will play a year or two without getting anywhere close to a degree. The system makes piles of money for the schools, the coaches, the NCAA. Never mind that it has little to do with education, and sometimes even less to do with ethics or integrity.

The success of programs such as Butler, Cornell, Xavier and Northern Iowa in the NCAA men's tournament prompted the usual clichés. But for all the condescending Cinderella and David references, their real appeal lies in their authenticity. Those schools can actually refer to their players as student-athletes without it sounding hollow. And because nearly all those players stick around, they develop leadership, team bonds and connections to their communities, qualities that should be keystones of college sports programs.

During the week of the Final Four in Indianapolis, Butler coach Brad Stevens revealed that his players were still expected to attend as many classes as they could at their nearby campus. Many fans and media seemed surprised, or even amused, by such a quaint notion; by putting education on a par with basketball, it was as if Stevens had told his guys to put new laces in their Chuck Taylors, or wear their letter sweaters to the pep fest.

Back in Texas, where the priorities are different, Barnes may get to see another of his players live his dream soon. Freshman Avery Bradley last week declared his intention to enter the NBA draft early, as did five Kentucky players.

Stevens and Northern Iowa coach Ben Jacobson could have abandoned their teams to cash in, too. They locked up long-term contracts to stay where they are: helping players live another kind of dream, in places where you don't have to leave to become truly rich.

Rachel Blount • rblount@startribune.com