Nick Saban sat before Congress just days ago and delivered a warning that should send chills through every corner of college athletics.
Read more Central Florida heat index could pass 100 while thunderstorm threat high Friday, NWS says
“Right now in college football we have no rules,” said the greatest college football coach of all-time. “We have state laws. We have different laws in every state. We have litigation. The NCAA cannot enforce their own rules because every time they try to enforce the rules, there’s a lawsuit.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Saban’s prediction to rear its ugly head once again.
Within days, a Texas judge handed Texas Tech quarterback Brendan Sorsby a temporary injunction allowing him to play this season despite being ruled ineligible by the NCAA for one of the most serious violations imaginable in sports: gambling on his own sport and on the team for which he played.
Let that sink in.
This wasn’t a technical violation or a recruiting infraction or an athlete unknowingly accepting an improper meal.
According to court filings and NCAA findings, Sorsby admitted to wagering at least $90,000 on sports, including 40 bets involving Indiana football while he was a member of the team. He allegedly placed bets himself and used friends to place wagers on his behalf.
For more than a century, sports has operated under one sacred commandment: Thou shalt not bet on your own team.
The reason is obvious. Once participants begin wagering on games they influence, the entire foundation of competition begins to crack. Fans stop trusting outcomes. Opponents question motives. Teammates wonder whether everyone is pulling in the same direction.
The integrity of the game itself becomes compromised.
Yet here we are.
A Texas judge has essentially informed the rest of college football that the most fundamental rule in sports is now negotiable. And, sadly, Texas Tech is happily going along with it.
In fact, Texas Tech has become college football’s newest renegade program — a school willing to exploit every legal loophole available in pursuit of victories, rankings and perhaps even a national championship.
The Red Raiders want everyone to believe this is about compassion. They want us to believe this is about helping a young man struggling with gambling addiction. They want us to believe this is about mental health.
Puh-leeze.
Nobody disputes that Sorsby deserves support, treatment and every available resource to continue his recovery. Addiction is real. Mental health matters.
But participation is not the same thing as support.
A player can receive counseling without being a starting quarterback for a leading playoff contender. A player can continue his education without taking snaps on Saturdays.
The reality is Texas Tech could end this controversy tomorrow. The school could simply say:
“Brendan, we support you. We care about you. We want you to recover. But because you violated the most important integrity rule in sports, you will not play football this season.”
Problem solved.
Instead, Texas Tech is allowing him to play because they believe he gives them their best chance to win.
Everything else is public relations.
The rest of college athletics sees right through it. The backlash across the country has been swift and fierce. In an ESPN article, ACC Commissioner Jim Phillips called the ruling part of a “horrendous pattern” that is “eroding the integrity of our process.” One Big 12 athletic director said, “We officially lost our soul.” TCU coach Sonny Dykes asked the obvious question: “How is anyone ever going to trust the outcome of a game again?”
And Florida Athletic Director Scott Stricklin drew perhaps the most powerful comparison of all, invoking baseball’s infamous Black Sox scandal.
“As someone who grew up reading about the Black Sox Scandal, and seeing what happened to Pete Rose and just understanding how bright that line seemed to be in all of American sports, I’m stunned that there would be a question at the court level that this is acceptable,” Stricklin said. “That’s not a judgment on the young man. It’s just that it was a pretty fundamental tenet of American sports, that if you’re going to participate, you can’t gamble, especially on your own team.”
Exactly.
It’s why Georgia reportedly instructed its athletic department not to schedule Texas Tech.
It’s why Nebraska publicly took a similar stance. It’s why Big Ten officials are discussing broader action. It’s why Big 12 athletic directors reportedly discussed whether they even want to compete against Texas Tech this season.
Read more Miss Manners: I asked about the missing wedding invitation and I got this load of hooey
And it’s why the Big 12 commissioner Brett Yormark now faces one of the most important leadership tests in college sports history.
The easy path would be surrender. After all, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton has already threatened the conference with legal action if it sanctions Texas Tech under Big 12 Bylaw 3.6
Paxton’s message was unmistakable: Leave Texas Tech alone or face the consequences.
But if conferences start allowing state politicians to dictate competitive standards, then college athletics truly is finished. The Big 12’s bylaws exist for a reason. Those rules specifically allow the conference to discipline member institutions whose actions are materially adverse to the best interests of the conference.
If allowing a quarterback who bet on his own team to compete isn’t adverse to the league’s interests, then what exactly would qualify?
UCF Athletic Director Terry Mohajir made his position crystal clear. In a statement this week, he said that if a UCF athlete committed similar gambling violations, that player would not compete.
Period.
As Mohajir explained, student-athletes deserve support and compassion, but participation would be “out of the question.”
That is leadership.
That is integrity.
That is understanding the difference between helping a person and excusing behavior.
“The national landscape of college athletics and all of our college sports fans are watching our league (the Big 12) and they’re wanting to know how we’re going to lead on this issue,” Mohajir said.
In other words, this isn’t just about Texas Tech or the Big 12, it’s a referendum on whether college athletics can still govern itself. Saban warned Congress that college sports are becoming impossible to regulate because every rule eventually ends up in court.
Now college football has reached perhaps its clearest test case. If betting on your own team doesn’t result in meaningful consequences, then what rule still matters?
If a conference refuses to enforce its own standards because a politician threatens legal action, then who is really running college athletics?
The Big 12 has a choice: It can bow to pressure from Texas politicians, judges and lawyers or it can defend the integrity of the sport.
Because if college football cannot draw the line at betting on your own team, then the line no longer exists.
Last week, Saban begged Congress to help save college sports from pom-pom waving state judges and attorney generals.
But the self-serving saga involving Texas Tech’s administration shows us that college athletics needs to be saved from an even more dangerous faction.
“Isn’t it a sad state,” Mohajir said, “when we’re asking for congressional help so we can protect our industry from ourselves.”
Email me at [email protected]. Hit me up on social media @BianchiWrites and listen to my radio show “Game On” every weekday from 3 to 6 p.m. on FM 96.9, AM 740 and 969TheGame.com/listen.
Read more Asking Eric: I just found out my friend has been lying all these years