After Penn State football coach Joe Paterno was fired for failing to stop reported systematic child rape by a former assistant coach who used Paterno's program as a lure for his victims, students rioted in the streets, then stood outside his house and cheered for him. Paterno emerged and waved like a pope on parade.
On Monday, Urban Meyer, who had said he resigned from his job at Florida to allegedly spend more time with his family, was hired to coach the Ohio State football team. As an ESPN employee, he had refused to answer questions about his interest in the job even to the network that paid him generously to provide insights on college football.
Tuesday night, in his first public appearance since Syracuse fired assistant basketball coach Bernie Fine because of allegations that he molested boys on team road trips, Orange coach Jim Boeheim explained his heated defense of Fine, his "friend." Team supporters allowed to watch the news conference applauded.
They cast themselves as noble leaders, as molders of young men, but the ranks of moneyed college coaches have always been filled with liars and cheats. While it's hard to embarrass this often dishonorable profession, this autumn has provided the latest reminders that these men are not to be trusted.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and nowhere in sports are people given absolute power the way they are when running lucrative college sports programs.
This is not to conflate Paterno's enabling with Meyer's disingenuousness and Boeheim's misguided loyalty, anymore than one would conflate murder and littering. The common thread is not the seriousness of the allegations but the lack of accountability displayed by men who are treated as gods on their campuses, and who are granted tenure once they have accumulated enough victories and dollars.
Scroll through the archives. Woody Hayes, the Ohio State deity, punched an opposing linebacker. Bobby Knight, often described as a disciplinarian, couldn't keep his hands from one player's throat, or a chair from skittering across the court. Rick Neuheisel was a high-stakes gambler, and not in the metaphoric sense.
Barry Switzer's players carried Uzis. Ron Meyer led SMU to the death penalty. Norm Stewart threatened a reporter's child. A succession of University of Miami football coaches ran a program rife with NCAA violations, and this year's scandal revealed a renegade booster who was allowed on the field and at charitable events with players, one of whom he helped with an abortion.
