However, there were a few loud voices insisting that the new rules would merely limit opportunities for young people to learn as well as play–and that African-Americans, whatever the rule makers’ intentions, would end up losers.
Earlier this month a federal judge in Philadelphia sided with the naysayers, striking down the NCAA’s initial-eligibility standards for college athletes. And when the same judge refused to grant a stay, it was clear that coaches, recruits and admissions officers would have to begin playing a much different game–immediately–with no rules to guide them.
The court ruled that the NCAA’s minimum SAT score of 820 has an “unjustified” discriminatory effect on African-American students and therefore violates federal law. The judge did not rule out the possibility of a minimum score altogether, and so some speculate that an even lower cutoff might do the trick. But using SAT scores is an inherently discriminatory approach (in general admissions, too, I contend, but that’s another issue). African-American students consistently score lower on the test than white students, although the gap has narrowed. The original Proposition 48 SAT line was drawn close to what was then the median score for all black students. Furthermore, as opponents have consistently argued, using the SAT to determine athletic eligibility is a blatantly inappropriate use of a test designed, simply, to set a point spread for first-semester academic success in college.
Still, the discriminatory effect, predicted and predictable as it was, might have been minimized had so many colleges not abdicated their own responsibility. As an educator I would not have been saddened to see any student barred from competition for a year in order to complete the first year of college satisfactorily. What happened in practice, however, was far different: most students found ineligible to receive athletic scholarships and compete as freshmen were simply not admitted to Division I and Division II schools. Why “waste” a classroom seat on some large young person who could not benefit the school until the following year–especially when there is no danger of the competition’s suiting him up?
The primary stated purpose of the NCAA regulations was to increase graduation rates of recruited athletes. The implication was that prospective college athletes would have an incentive to arrive better prepared and therefore be better able to accomplish four years of collegiate coursework. Graduation rates have risen slightly since 1984 for Division I athletes. But so have the rates for all students at those schools, with no externally legislated SAT cutoffs. Raising SAT entrance requirements is a lazy and inefficient way to boost graduation rates. A better way to help any student succeed is to improve teaching, tutorial support, instruction in time management and note-taking skills. And for athletes it is to schedule fewer games, reduce travel and end freshman eligibility so that everyone gets a chance to be a student for a full year before competing.
These, however, are educational concerns, and NCAA regulations have nothing to do with either education or the well-being of the young people involved. They have everything to do with competitive balance and with public relations. The fundamental issue with initial-eligibility requirements is that they inevitably become entrance requirements, and the NCAA simply has no business deciding whom a college can admit. Even eligibility to compete should be determined by individual colleges as long as the students are at least in good standing and making satisfactory progress toward a degree.
If this solution sounds hopelessly naive, that indicates only the bankruptcy of the NCAA’s cherished notion of “student-athlete” as it applies to high-profile, revenue-generating sports. This is not to say that many athletes don’t seek and gain an education, and that many colleges are not conscientious in providing that opportunity. But they do so in spite of a system engineered for maximum exploitation and minimum embarrassment. Yet we cannot afford to admit that we no longer regard these young men and women as actual students. Without the thin veil of “scholarships” and the pretense of compensation by education (no degree required), some judge would no doubt someday force us to consider these young folks employees of our institutions, paid entertainers. The most talented of them would command far more than the $30,000 or so they cost now for a year’s classes and keep at places like Stanford and Duke–not to mention the in-state tuition rate at Tennessee or Connecticut. It is madness, but it does not end in March.
