<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR> If the NCAA could somehow be guaranteed a cut from every sports office pool in the country, furthermore, I suspect 10.3 (e) would be quietly deleted from the Manual. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Dad is getting ready for work on an autumn Saturday and son Jack, 8, after checking the college football schedule and the morning line in the newspaper, says "Bet you a dollar UCLA wins."
"You're on," says Dad.
With those two words, Dad is now technically eligible to be fired for just cause as head football coach at the University of Washington.
Never mind Jack Neuheisel is a Bruins fan because Dad played quarterback for them in the 1980s (a career highlighted with the Rose Bowl MVP award after a 45-9 victory over Illinois).
Never mind the stakes were only a dollar.
A dime would have been too much in this apocryphal father-son wager.
Don't believe that? Look it up on Page 53 of the NCAA Division I Manual.
Bylaw, Article 10, Ethical Conduct ". . . (10.3) staff members of a member conference, staff members of the athletics department of a member institution and student-athletes shall not knowingly (c) accept a bet on any team representing the institution."
Actually, the Huskies canned Jack Neuheisel's father, Rick, for alleged violation of (e) ". . . shall not knowingly participate in any gambling activity that involves intercollegiate athletics or professional athletics, through a bookmaker, a parlay card or any other method of organized gambling."
Either that or they were looking for a reason to send Neuheisel packing and he conveniently gave 'em one.
Rules are rules.
Granted, the Neuheisel case involves more than one dollar - his payoff for participation in an NCAA basketball pool was reportedly 20,000 times more, a 300 percent return on the ex-coach's investment.
But let us not confuse amount with accountability.
Let's listen in on the guy at the bar who asks the lady next to him, "Will you go home with me for a million dollars?"
"Yes, of course" she replied.
"How about five dollars?"
"What do you think I am?" she asked, indignantly.
"That's already been established," he said. "Now we're just haggling about price."
I've never met Rick Neuheisel. He looks a little like a blond ferret, from what I've seen on television, although that impression probably is influenced by charges he also has a problem with telling the truth in matters not associated with gambling.
If so, Huskies administrators might have been waiting for him to get a fistful of tickets for jaywalking before delivering the pink slip.
That's their business and, I assume, will be at issue when Neuheisel's appeal is heard.
My concern is about the gambling thing. First, I can't imagine how putting money on the outcome of NCAA postseason basketball games can affect a decision to run the fullback up the middle on a key third-down situation.
(We're passing judgment here, remember, on the basis of fundamental sin as legislated by the NCAA rather than the size of the wager).
Second, exactly what constitutes organized gambling?
If you've got some extra cash and want to take a few chances with it, a good place to start might be at your broker's office tomorrow morning. He'll talk about stocks and bonds, then ask your risk tolerance.
Smoothly translated, that means "How big a gamble do you want to take?"
After wrapping up the deal, you drive to a charity golf outing, buy several 50-50 tickets and as many chances on the drawing for door prizes after the scramble.
You go from the golf course to the off-track betting parlor, there to put a few bucks on some nag's nose, then stop for gas and buy a couple of lottery tickets on the way to the Par-A-Dice Casino for a few hands of blackjack.
So far, you're legal.
It's time for the weekly poker game. Be careful. If the law is looking through the window and there is money on the table, you now could be in a whole lot of trouble.
This because no one outside the room is getting a cut of the money on the table.
That's state-sanctioned and regulated hypocrisy, I say.
Personally, I like to gamble. Within reason. I have no moral qualms about it and yet try to understand those who do.
Is gambling good or bad? Don't know. Do know the NCAA, in a sense, gambles when television rights for the Final Four come up for bid.
If the NCAA could somehow be guaranteed a cut from every sports office pool in the country, furthermore, I suspect 10.3 (e) would be quietly deleted from the Manual.
Life is a gamble. Right or wrong, that's how it is unless someone rigs the game.
Life also is not fair, I've heard, so save that dollar, Jack Neuheisel, rather than bet on Dad being reinstated.
http://www.pjstar.com/sports/theobald/g149209a.html
Dad is getting ready for work on an autumn Saturday and son Jack, 8, after checking the college football schedule and the morning line in the newspaper, says "Bet you a dollar UCLA wins."
"You're on," says Dad.
With those two words, Dad is now technically eligible to be fired for just cause as head football coach at the University of Washington.
Never mind Jack Neuheisel is a Bruins fan because Dad played quarterback for them in the 1980s (a career highlighted with the Rose Bowl MVP award after a 45-9 victory over Illinois).
Never mind the stakes were only a dollar.
A dime would have been too much in this apocryphal father-son wager.
Don't believe that? Look it up on Page 53 of the NCAA Division I Manual.
Bylaw, Article 10, Ethical Conduct ". . . (10.3) staff members of a member conference, staff members of the athletics department of a member institution and student-athletes shall not knowingly (c) accept a bet on any team representing the institution."
Actually, the Huskies canned Jack Neuheisel's father, Rick, for alleged violation of (e) ". . . shall not knowingly participate in any gambling activity that involves intercollegiate athletics or professional athletics, through a bookmaker, a parlay card or any other method of organized gambling."
Either that or they were looking for a reason to send Neuheisel packing and he conveniently gave 'em one.
Rules are rules.
Granted, the Neuheisel case involves more than one dollar - his payoff for participation in an NCAA basketball pool was reportedly 20,000 times more, a 300 percent return on the ex-coach's investment.
But let us not confuse amount with accountability.
Let's listen in on the guy at the bar who asks the lady next to him, "Will you go home with me for a million dollars?"
"Yes, of course" she replied.
"How about five dollars?"
"What do you think I am?" she asked, indignantly.
"That's already been established," he said. "Now we're just haggling about price."
I've never met Rick Neuheisel. He looks a little like a blond ferret, from what I've seen on television, although that impression probably is influenced by charges he also has a problem with telling the truth in matters not associated with gambling.
If so, Huskies administrators might have been waiting for him to get a fistful of tickets for jaywalking before delivering the pink slip.
That's their business and, I assume, will be at issue when Neuheisel's appeal is heard.
My concern is about the gambling thing. First, I can't imagine how putting money on the outcome of NCAA postseason basketball games can affect a decision to run the fullback up the middle on a key third-down situation.
(We're passing judgment here, remember, on the basis of fundamental sin as legislated by the NCAA rather than the size of the wager).
Second, exactly what constitutes organized gambling?
If you've got some extra cash and want to take a few chances with it, a good place to start might be at your broker's office tomorrow morning. He'll talk about stocks and bonds, then ask your risk tolerance.
Smoothly translated, that means "How big a gamble do you want to take?"
After wrapping up the deal, you drive to a charity golf outing, buy several 50-50 tickets and as many chances on the drawing for door prizes after the scramble.
You go from the golf course to the off-track betting parlor, there to put a few bucks on some nag's nose, then stop for gas and buy a couple of lottery tickets on the way to the Par-A-Dice Casino for a few hands of blackjack.
So far, you're legal.
It's time for the weekly poker game. Be careful. If the law is looking through the window and there is money on the table, you now could be in a whole lot of trouble.
This because no one outside the room is getting a cut of the money on the table.
That's state-sanctioned and regulated hypocrisy, I say.
Personally, I like to gamble. Within reason. I have no moral qualms about it and yet try to understand those who do.
Is gambling good or bad? Don't know. Do know the NCAA, in a sense, gambles when television rights for the Final Four come up for bid.
If the NCAA could somehow be guaranteed a cut from every sports office pool in the country, furthermore, I suspect 10.3 (e) would be quietly deleted from the Manual.
Life is a gamble. Right or wrong, that's how it is unless someone rigs the game.
Life also is not fair, I've heard, so save that dollar, Jack Neuheisel, rather than bet on Dad being reinstated.
http://www.pjstar.com/sports/theobald/g149209a.html
