Ohio State coach fired: The 'Buck' stops here

What has taken place in Columbus, Ohio over the last six months, but especially over the last four days, is nothing less than a crying shame.

A crying shame for the landscape of college athletics and college football, which is arguably the new American pastime thanks to baseball’s downfall.

A crying shame for Terrelle Pryor, once the most prized recruit in the game’s recent history, who is now a recruit Michigan fans and alumni are grateful they never saw set foot in their state.

And it’s a crying shame for Ohio State University, an institution that has done a pretty good job of talking the talk in terms of doing things in an honorable manner over the years.  

For even the worst of Ohio State football apologists, the fact that the now-former Buckeyes coach Jim Tressel and five starters, including Pryor and receiver DeVier Posey, were covering up said starters’ sale and trade of team memorabilia for tattoos is a disgrace.

It’s a disgrace to the Big Ten, a disgrace to their university, a disgrace to people like me who saw Ohio State football as a program that could win the right way and a selfish, hypocritical disgrace to the false manner in which Tressel has carried himself over the years.

Where was this Buckeye mantra of integrity when it became evident Tressel knew about the tattoos, discounted car deals and money accepted for Big Ten Championship rings and other memorabilia?

And where was the initiative of university President E. Gordon Gee and Athletics Director Gene Smith — who ironically chaired this year’s NCAA Tournament selection committee — when Pryor was seen manning a new ride every month or so?

The sad thing for Gee and Smith is that this mess should never have gotten this far. Tressel and his staff should have been forced out in late April after emails cornering him and his involvement became public, which is why the fact that former assistant Luke Fickell has been named interim coach for 2011 is a bit puzzling.

What’s even sadder for everyone associated with Ohio State and Pryor himself is that this investigation is nowhere close to being over; thanks largely to Pryor’s thinking it was wise to pull into Monday night’s team meeting in a brand-new Nissan sports car with temporary tags.

If I were Fickell, I would think it’s very reasonable to believe Pryor has played his final game in Ohio Stadium and would get ready for a contingency plan at quarterback as early as Tuesday morning.

Let’s not get away thinking Ohio State people are the only ones to blame for this ongoing ordeal. One major question still remains, and it may be the most perplexing one of all.

How is Ohio State being held so accountable by the NCAA when the league itself allowed Pryor, Posey and others to play in the Sugar Bowl after it was known they were in the rings-for-cars loop?

One logical explanation is that if five key athletes lost their postseason eligibility, television ratings in the non-Buckeye households would have severely dwindled, along with that bowl revenue. The NCAA contradicted itself and gave its blessing to Ohio State’s continued play of ineligible players.

In today’s world of college athletics, there are simply too many influences — influences from unscrupulous sports agents, heavy revenue from television contracts, sleazy benefactors and win-at-all-cost boosters.

It’s not reasonable for the head coach of a major college program to be aware of every dollar a player acquires, nor should it be.

But when presented with evidence there is some sort of pay-for-play going on, it becomes a whole new responsibility. It’s an added responsibility to meet the demands of winning, especially after Tressel’s Ohio State teams lost three out of their five most recent BCS games, two of which were for national championships.

Right now, if Jim Tressel hopes to ever have a chance at getting back in college football and settling for something less than his dream job, he needs to take a page out of his own prophecies.

“To many people, winning is everything. Striving for a conference championship can be a passion that turns into an obsession.”

That verse lies in the acknowledgements of his book entitled “The Winners Manual: For the Game of Life.”

Striving for a 2011 conference and national championship changed from a passion to an obsession, an obsession that sealed his fate at one of the most recognized settings in the game. An obsession that is all too common in the world of college football.

— ftherber@indiana.edu