Goal-line stand: UW, Neuheisel won't budge

With attorneys' hyperbole hanging like a thick fog over the Rick Neuheisel affair, we can easily lose sight of what the case is about. For that, go back in time with Grant Teaff, to when he was a first-year head coach at Baylor in 1972.

"I had a big old, skinny wide receiver come to me, scared to death," says Teaff, now the executive director of the American Football Coaches Association. "Somebody had picked him up at the dorm, just a guy who said, 'Want a ride to practice?' "

According to Teaff, the driver opened a glove compartment in which was stuffed cash and a gun described by the player as "about three feet long."

"Look," said the driver, "you have the opportunity to catch passes... "

Teaff quickly got on the phone to the FBI, and a potential point-shaving matter died off quickly.

Quicker, surely, than a resolution in the Neuheisel-vs.-the-UW-and-NCAA smackdown. Yesterday, the temperature grew warmer, as Neuheisel's attorneys filed the official protest of his June 11 firing with cause, and the attorneys had a near hour-long gathering with the media to explain their stance at a downtown hotel.

Clearly, both sides are dug in. No, Neuheisel won't be back on the north sideline at Husky Stadium, but he is trying his hardest to walk away with a bigger check than he earned winning NCAA basketball pools with Maryland and Syracuse the past two years.

Neuheisel's attorneys allege that there are no audiotapes of Neuheisel being questioned by NCAA investigators here June 4, because of a tape malfunction or human error. If that's the case, and if five eyewitnesses to his testimony don't corroborate it adequately, then we have a bungler's perfect storm here. "Wrong Way" Riegels, say hi to Bill Buckner and Bonehead Merkle.

A coach who should know better gambled heavily on NCAA events. A university compliance office issued an idiotic memo about the extent to which gambling was allowed. And somebody couldn't hit the "record" button on a tape recorder. Where are Abbott and Costello when you need them?

Other than the tapes issue, most of what was underscored by Neuheisel's attorneys at yesterday's media-fest was spin.

They produced letters from coaching colleagues, testifying to their reliance on directives from their compliance officers. Gee, there's a revelation: Coaches rallying to other coaches' defense. Attorney Bob Sulkin said he and Neuheisel solicited support from those coaches.

The featured coaches were Oregon's Mike Bellotti and Penn State's legendary Joe Paterno. In the past, Neuheisel has written for a Web site run by Paterno.

Wonder if they were asked about their understanding of whether gambling by coaches is permissible, based on the prevailing culture in NCAA athletics? That includes, says the NCAA's anti-gambling czar, Bill Saum, the signing of affidavits by athletes disavowing betting before participating in bowl games and the NCAA tournament.

"I see most of the membership saying they clearly understand pools are a violation," Saum said yesterday. "I don't believe there's been any miscommunication. I believe we've been clear and direct."

Says Teaff, a longtime coach, "I haven't always agreed with the NCAA on various issues. But they've done a tremendous job in getting information out and letting everybody know. It's something that's always on the front burner."

Crawford was highly critical of Saum, saying Saum has publicly contended Neuheisel's admitted involvement would be in violation of NCAA rule 10.3e, which prohibits organized gambling or betting with a bookmaker.

So base his culpability on 10.3d, which says you can't "solicit or accept a bet on any intercollegiate competition for any item that has tangible value," including cash.

But there's that memo, issued in March. The problem is, Neuheisel also bet in 2002. There was a version in 1999, but even if you assume he read it, is it unreasonable to suggest he might have been wise — three years later — to see if department policy still "approved" of his involvement?

Whatever direction you believe common sense should have led Neuheisel, the memo is the stuff of legal obfuscation, a fine keg of tacks Neuheisel's suits can effectively throw in the road in front of the Huskies' caravan eager to get on with a football season.

If he indeed lied and it can be proven, the university ought to hang tough and deny him any settlement. If there is serious doubt, the combination of that issue and the infamous memos probably gets him off the hook for the $1.5 million loan and maybe a lot more.

In all pursuits, Neuheisel has always said he only wants "happy endings." The university appears as ready as the 2001 Huskies on a goal-line stand against the Cougars to deny him this one.

Bud Withers: 206-464-8281 or bwithers@seattletimes.com.