By Rusty Hardin
February 7, 2017
Last week was yet another painful one for Baylor University. Some upsetting facts were included in a court filing I made in response to a defamation lawsuit against three Baylor regents. The filing detailed the information that compelled the board of regents to remove Art Briles as head football coach last May.
The evidence of how Coach Briles and his staff concealed reports of player misconduct, including sexual assault, is shocking. It is no wonder that many reacted with sadness and outrage.
And it was all too predictable that some, including the Houston Chronicle editorial board, suggested the NCAA administer the "death penalty" against Baylor's football program. Others, egged on by a few wealthy donors with axes to grind, now are trying to use this crisis to attack the board of regents.
These opinions may be emotionally satisfying, but they are unwise and misguided.
Baylor doesn't deserve such sanctions. It deserves a great deal of credit.
Here are the facts: Baylor regents largely were unaware of the extent of the problems within the football program. Regular outside audits of athletics compliance had assured them all was well. As governing boards do, the regents focused on oversight rather than day-to-day operations. They first learned that the football program routinely buried complaints of player misconduct last May after hearing the results of an independent investigation of Title IX compliance at the university.
Outlook
As soon as the regents received a detailed briefing on the evidence, they did not try to cover it up like boards at other schools have.
Instead, the regents took immediate and decisive action. As part of an unprecedented housecleaning, they removed President Kenneth Starr and Coach Briles and sanctioned the athletic director, who then resigned. They also adopted 105 sweeping recommendations by Pepper Hamilton to transform the university's culture, both on campus and within athletics.
On May 25, the day before announcing those actions, a group of Regents traveled to NCAA headquarters in Indianapolis and informed collegiate officials about the disturbing facts they had learned. The university has been cooperating with the NCAA ever since, including sharing all of the evidence in last week's filing.
Those proactive and forthright actions stand in stark contrast to what happened at other major universities confronted with similar issues.
One is Penn State, where the NCAA rejected the idea of imposing the death penalty related to the Jerry Sandusky case. An independent report by former FBI Director Louis Freeh concluded that the Penn State board of trustees failed to make a "reasonable inquiry" when it learned that a grand jury was investigating Sandusky, who was later convicted on 45 counts of sexually assaulting boys.
Another is SMU, the only collegiate football program to receive the death penalty. The NCAA cancelled SMU's 1987 season after revelations that the athletics department - with the knowledge of top officials and a board of governors member - continued to pay football players out of a recruitment slush fund while the program was on probation for that very same offense.
At Baylor, by contrast, there has been chagrin, humility and resolve. Once they realized the extent of the problem, the regents were determined to do what their Christian faith demanded.
The regents recognize that something went deeply, shamefully wrong at Baylor. And they have been busy overseeing an overhaul of the University's Title IX system while making amends to the victims of sexual assault, whose suffering was unconscionable and ignored for too long.
The clamor for the NCAA to impose the death penalty on Baylor is incredibly short-sighted.
Such an action would send an unambiguous message to universities: Do not self report. Do everything you can to hide the truth. And make no attempts to aid the victims for fear your failures would be revealed to the world.
