'Three and Out': Part 3
Excerpt: NCAA investigation ate at Rich Rodriguez, U-M players
John U. Bacon
This third of five excerpts from "Three and Out" covers the start of the NCAA investigation into Michigan's football program, and the impact it had on Rich Rodriguez and his players.
In just 20 months as Michigan's head coach, Rich Rodriguez had already endured a seemingly endless stream of negative headlines, but he still had enough perspective to recognize that the NCAA investigation, which had just kicked into high gear in October 2009, was of a different magnitude altogether.
Initially, Michigan's compliance director, Judy Van Horn, interviewed the coaches, staffers and players herself — in a clear conflict of interest, since the quality of her performance was one of the central questions to be answered. Yet she did not stop the practice until Rodriguez's lawyer — not the university's or the NCAA's — insisted that the U-M and NCAA lawyers should conduct the interviews.
When the investigators asked Van Horn directly if she had told Rodriguez of the missing forms for Countable Athletically Related Activities (CARA), which the NCAA had started investigating, she replied, "I wish I had." If she had, it's doubtful that the former director of football operations, Brad Labadie, would have been allowed to fail to submit them for more than a year, that a university audit would have been deemed necessary, and that Detroit Free Press reporters would have learned about the situation, prompting their FOIA request — and sparking the bigger story, and the NCAA investigation that followed.
Van Horn's reply didn't answer the question, but it was apparently enough for the investigators to drop the issue. And then things got a little stranger. The only coaches Rodriguez kept from Carr's staff were running backs coach Fred Jackson and strength coach Jim Plocki, and neither the university nor the NCAA asked to interview Plocki, and no one asked Jackson, or anyone else, about anything before 2008, including policies and practices that had been constant throughout.
Around this time, a football administrator discovered on his university computer the resume of one of Carr's quality control people, Tom Burpee, on which he boasted about all the coaching his role required, one of the very NCAA rules Rodriguez's regime was being accused of violating.
After Parrish showed it to Rodriguez, he faced a dilemma. If he turned it in to the NCAA, he risked the entire university being found guilty of the dreaded "lack of institutional control," which would hurt him more than anyone else and for which he would no doubt be blamed. But if he kept it from investigators, he would violate the legal pledge he signed at the outset of the investigation, stating he would dutifully report any potential violations he came across — which was one of the rules Jim Tressel broke, launching his investigation in 2011.
Rodriguez concluded that he had to submit Burpee's resume to the compliance people at Michigan and the NCAA. He did so with some trepidation, fearing the consequences — but to his surprise, no one cared. Burpee's claims of coaching were assumed to be simple resume padding — and the NCAA agreed. No one ever considered the possibility that Burpee was telling the truth — which he was. In the words of one former player, "Burpee coached his (butt) off."
'Compliance should know'
This is not to say Carr ran a renegade program. Far from it. Though not perfect, he had earned national acclaim for leading one of the cleanest programs in college football. It does suggest, however, that Rodriguez was being held to a standard even his predecessors had not achieved. For whatever reason, Michigan and the NCAA had no interest in investigating Michigan, just Rodriguez.
But it's also true that after the scope of the investigation had been limited to the 2008-09 school year, no rock within that time span was left unturned. Van Horn told me U-M president Mary Sue Coleman insisted their mission was simply to "find the truth," wherever it led.
"With compliance," Rodriguez said, while finishing his meal a few hours after testifying before investigators, "it was pretty clear that the NCAA person was there to find any little thing she could to make sure she looked like a tough guy. They spent about two hours asking about the role of quality control. I said, on the record, that U-M compliance should know exactly what they were doing, since they were there for plenty of the practices."
During the six weeks I worked out in the weight room and Oosterbaan Field House, I saw every member of the compliance team pass through many times. The doors were always open, and the coaches were not hiding anything. While the coaches should have had a better grasp on the many rules regarding quality control and seven-on-seven drills, if they were committing violations, they were doing so in plain sight of the people whose sole job it was to make sure those violations didn't occur.
"And I also said," Rodriguez continued, "on the record, that the only reason the NCAA is here is because of some completely irresponsible story in the Detroit Free Press.
"'Oh, no, no,' the NCAA person said. 'We look at all our schools.'
"Bull(crap)," Rodriguez said that night, digging into his dessert.
His response was not elegant but accurate. He had made up his mind about something else: "I've been run over too many times. So I'm going to speak for myself.
"I haven't been able just to coach football for two years. That's all I want to do. That's why I came here, to get rid of all the distractions building up at West Virginia. That was our goal in coming here — to get rid of the distractions! We figured Michigan was the place."
He didn't say it, but he didn't have to: He would have been hard-pressed to name any school with more distractions than the one he had picked.
Confusion over rules
Another problem: Rodriguez knew his players were being called in for NCAA interviews all week, but he didn't grasp what this was doing to his team.
"In my opinion," Labadie told me, "none of the players knew the rules, even when they were being interviewed. They were just pissed about having to deal with the whole thing."
Because they didn't know what the rules were, they weren't sure what to say. Had they been violating one of the NCAA's countless and often senseless prohibitions, which allow the school to offer players a breakfast of bagels and butter, but not cream cheese or jelly? (I am not making this up.) Were their off-season workouts voluntary or involuntary? Were the quality control guys conducting seven-on-seven drills or not? The average player didn't make distinctions among assistant coaches, graduate assistants, volunteer assistants, or quality control personnel in the first place.
They didn't know what to say, and they didn't know what their teammates were saying, either.
"We were 4-0, with Michigan State coming up," Labadie continued, "when all these players get interviewed. And they come back and they're talking about it in the locker room. How much did that matter? A lot."
That Saturday, the Wolverines lost in overtime to a 1-3 Michigan State squad, 26-20.
Excerpted from "Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football," by John U. Bacon, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC. Copyright 2011 by John U. Bacon. All rights reserved.
'Three and Out'
The Detroit News is publishing excerpts this week from John U. Bacon's new book, "Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football."
Monday: Bill Martin's coaching search
Tuesday: Rich Rodriguez takes over
Today: The NCAA investigation
Thursday: A watershed moment against Illinois
Friday: Finally a bowl, but no fight left
From The Detroit News: Michigan Wolverines | Excerpt: NCAA investigation ate at Rich Rodriguez, U-M players | The Detroit News
Excerpt: NCAA investigation ate at Rich Rodriguez, U-M players
John U. Bacon
This third of five excerpts from "Three and Out" covers the start of the NCAA investigation into Michigan's football program, and the impact it had on Rich Rodriguez and his players.
In just 20 months as Michigan's head coach, Rich Rodriguez had already endured a seemingly endless stream of negative headlines, but he still had enough perspective to recognize that the NCAA investigation, which had just kicked into high gear in October 2009, was of a different magnitude altogether.
Initially, Michigan's compliance director, Judy Van Horn, interviewed the coaches, staffers and players herself — in a clear conflict of interest, since the quality of her performance was one of the central questions to be answered. Yet she did not stop the practice until Rodriguez's lawyer — not the university's or the NCAA's — insisted that the U-M and NCAA lawyers should conduct the interviews.
When the investigators asked Van Horn directly if she had told Rodriguez of the missing forms for Countable Athletically Related Activities (CARA), which the NCAA had started investigating, she replied, "I wish I had." If she had, it's doubtful that the former director of football operations, Brad Labadie, would have been allowed to fail to submit them for more than a year, that a university audit would have been deemed necessary, and that Detroit Free Press reporters would have learned about the situation, prompting their FOIA request — and sparking the bigger story, and the NCAA investigation that followed.
Van Horn's reply didn't answer the question, but it was apparently enough for the investigators to drop the issue. And then things got a little stranger. The only coaches Rodriguez kept from Carr's staff were running backs coach Fred Jackson and strength coach Jim Plocki, and neither the university nor the NCAA asked to interview Plocki, and no one asked Jackson, or anyone else, about anything before 2008, including policies and practices that had been constant throughout.
Around this time, a football administrator discovered on his university computer the resume of one of Carr's quality control people, Tom Burpee, on which he boasted about all the coaching his role required, one of the very NCAA rules Rodriguez's regime was being accused of violating.
After Parrish showed it to Rodriguez, he faced a dilemma. If he turned it in to the NCAA, he risked the entire university being found guilty of the dreaded "lack of institutional control," which would hurt him more than anyone else and for which he would no doubt be blamed. But if he kept it from investigators, he would violate the legal pledge he signed at the outset of the investigation, stating he would dutifully report any potential violations he came across — which was one of the rules Jim Tressel broke, launching his investigation in 2011.
Rodriguez concluded that he had to submit Burpee's resume to the compliance people at Michigan and the NCAA. He did so with some trepidation, fearing the consequences — but to his surprise, no one cared. Burpee's claims of coaching were assumed to be simple resume padding — and the NCAA agreed. No one ever considered the possibility that Burpee was telling the truth — which he was. In the words of one former player, "Burpee coached his (butt) off."
'Compliance should know'
This is not to say Carr ran a renegade program. Far from it. Though not perfect, he had earned national acclaim for leading one of the cleanest programs in college football. It does suggest, however, that Rodriguez was being held to a standard even his predecessors had not achieved. For whatever reason, Michigan and the NCAA had no interest in investigating Michigan, just Rodriguez.
But it's also true that after the scope of the investigation had been limited to the 2008-09 school year, no rock within that time span was left unturned. Van Horn told me U-M president Mary Sue Coleman insisted their mission was simply to "find the truth," wherever it led.
"With compliance," Rodriguez said, while finishing his meal a few hours after testifying before investigators, "it was pretty clear that the NCAA person was there to find any little thing she could to make sure she looked like a tough guy. They spent about two hours asking about the role of quality control. I said, on the record, that U-M compliance should know exactly what they were doing, since they were there for plenty of the practices."
During the six weeks I worked out in the weight room and Oosterbaan Field House, I saw every member of the compliance team pass through many times. The doors were always open, and the coaches were not hiding anything. While the coaches should have had a better grasp on the many rules regarding quality control and seven-on-seven drills, if they were committing violations, they were doing so in plain sight of the people whose sole job it was to make sure those violations didn't occur.
"And I also said," Rodriguez continued, "on the record, that the only reason the NCAA is here is because of some completely irresponsible story in the Detroit Free Press.
"'Oh, no, no,' the NCAA person said. 'We look at all our schools.'
"Bull(crap)," Rodriguez said that night, digging into his dessert.
His response was not elegant but accurate. He had made up his mind about something else: "I've been run over too many times. So I'm going to speak for myself.
"I haven't been able just to coach football for two years. That's all I want to do. That's why I came here, to get rid of all the distractions building up at West Virginia. That was our goal in coming here — to get rid of the distractions! We figured Michigan was the place."
He didn't say it, but he didn't have to: He would have been hard-pressed to name any school with more distractions than the one he had picked.
Confusion over rules
Another problem: Rodriguez knew his players were being called in for NCAA interviews all week, but he didn't grasp what this was doing to his team.
"In my opinion," Labadie told me, "none of the players knew the rules, even when they were being interviewed. They were just pissed about having to deal with the whole thing."
Because they didn't know what the rules were, they weren't sure what to say. Had they been violating one of the NCAA's countless and often senseless prohibitions, which allow the school to offer players a breakfast of bagels and butter, but not cream cheese or jelly? (I am not making this up.) Were their off-season workouts voluntary or involuntary? Were the quality control guys conducting seven-on-seven drills or not? The average player didn't make distinctions among assistant coaches, graduate assistants, volunteer assistants, or quality control personnel in the first place.
They didn't know what to say, and they didn't know what their teammates were saying, either.
"We were 4-0, with Michigan State coming up," Labadie continued, "when all these players get interviewed. And they come back and they're talking about it in the locker room. How much did that matter? A lot."
That Saturday, the Wolverines lost in overtime to a 1-3 Michigan State squad, 26-20.
Excerpted from "Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football," by John U. Bacon, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC. Copyright 2011 by John U. Bacon. All rights reserved.
'Three and Out'
The Detroit News is publishing excerpts this week from John U. Bacon's new book, "Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football."
Monday: Bill Martin's coaching search
Tuesday: Rich Rodriguez takes over
Today: The NCAA investigation
Thursday: A watershed moment against Illinois
Friday: Finally a bowl, but no fight left
From The Detroit News: Michigan Wolverines | Excerpt: NCAA investigation ate at Rich Rodriguez, U-M players | The Detroit News
