Good Guy Gone Bad: The Story of Tressel

If Jim Tressel were a song, he would be Madonna's Don't Cry For Me, Argentina. The Sweater Vest is down and out, but not out of style. 

That Tressel won't be roaming the sidelines of Ohio Stadium next season for the first time in 10 years will be hard to envision, but not necessarily difficult to fathom. Every Ohio State coach has departed at one time or another under less than ideal circumstances, and he prophetically has always surmised he would one day do the same. 

And he was correct.

Ironically, he handed in his letter of resignation to Ohio State on Memorial day with a bit of a notable post script. The very events that led to his departure utterly define his persona, and are a microcosm of why some thought he would be the one to leave on his own terms. 

Tressel departs Ohio State not as a liar; not as a manipulator and certainly not as a cheater. He leaves a man that cared for people--especially his players--and it's being that man that got him into trouble. He was a man that is larger than life, yet always smaller than the company he kept.

However, as easy as it might be to characterize the man with effusive praise and note how difficult replacing him will ultimately be, it's neither the time nor the place for such adoration or resignation to the eulogy of Ohio State football.

After all, as Tressel would be the first to say, the program is not about one individual or one coach. While the hurt and disappointment will resonate and linger for many months, the program will move forward. This too shall pass. 

Tressel doesn't need the tears. He knew he was a man; like all men, ripe with mistakes. Whether by wins and losses or program-defining scandal, Tressel figured one day his time would expire as being worthy of the Ohio State head coaching label. For all his inherent goodness--the donations, the engagements, the philanthropy, the surprise visits to the sick and elderly--Tressel ultimately reaped what he sewed. He is responsible for his demise.

This began when Tressel failed to NCAA violations last April upon learning of some players selling their memorabilia. Tressel kept silent to protect them from embarrassment and discipline, though he stated, after the fact, concern over an ongoing criminal investigation and exercising discretion in the process. It's possible the Ohio State compliance office and thereby athletic department also learned of these allegations, and Tressel fell on the sword to protect that knowledge, but that's merely speculative to this point. 

Regardless of Tressel's rationale he elected to keep quiet. It's not hard to suggest that he may have also been selfishly keeping his (acclaimed) 2010 football team out of trouble, but it's also likely his overwhelming concern was of the status of his pupils. 

It's hard to imagine many men being able to sacrifice in that situation and do what he couldn't do: rat out his players to the suits of the NCAA. Still, being noble is an obligation to all, even if it's failed by most. But this past December, Tressel had a chance at redemption. And ultimately, missing that chance is what's likely led to his downfall.

When the allegations of five players selling their memorabilia leaked out this past December, leading to five-game suspensions for the start of the 2011 season, Tressel had the opportunity to come clean. Public sentiment of the Ohio State program, in lieu of those NCAA violations, was largely favorable given the small nature of the crimes. After all, who could really blame college kids for making a few bucks off their own belongings? 

But when asked if Tressel had prior knowledge, he instantly opened Pandora's Box by telling a little white lie. That lie, which is what does not typically define Tressel and goes against the very thing he stands for, turned the tide of perception against Ohio State and has since created a tidal wave of negative publicity. 

Since that time, media members have launched vigorous investigative journalism campaigns against the university, using freedom of information act requests to turn over every rock and knock down every barrier. But the media, overzealous and a bit too happy to oblige it may have been, was just doing what it's paid to do. They are storytellers and Tressel generously handed them the story. 

Once it was discovered Tressel had such knowledge in advance of Ohio State finding out from the FBI, Tressel's plausible deniability of the program's transgressions was rendered null and void. He lost his ability to stand behind his reputation. Instead, he became just another rogue competitor. 

Had Tressel told the truth from the beginning, at least the beginning as the public domain is concerned, he might have survived, his legacy saved and Ohio State's legal and PR teams may have been enjoying vacations these past few weeks. Instead, we're all feeling like this has turned into a classic Sunday School parable. 

The sad reality is that this is an indictment as much on college athletics as it is Ohio State or Tressel specifically. The immense popularity of college football and predictable human nature committed these crimes. But it's Tressel's now-tarnished legacy that will be doing the time. 

Nationally, Ohio State and Tressel will be lumped into a growing list of has-beens that couldn't practice what they preach. Unfair? Certainly. But that's exactly why Tressel would rather you spare him the tears. He knows he brought it on himself.

As Tressel will go quietly into the night, leaving behind 10 years of memories and some gaudy numbers in the process, eventually the disappointment will manifest itself as a perspective of what transpired: a good man with good intentions making bad choices. It's more than just a parable, it's a very valuable life lesson.

Ohio State will move on. They're likely to hire a successful head coach after next season. Whether Urban Meyer, Jon Gruden or someone else, the program will be in good hands once again. Interim head coach Luke Fickell will get a crack if he guides next year's team to prominence, but it's more likely he's just keeping the seat warm. The odds are stacked against OSU hiring from within, especially amidst a widespread perception of corruption.

It's assured the next coach will be compared to Tressel. If we've learned anything, though, it's that no coach should be compared to another but rather compared to the program itself. Because after all, that's ultimately what matters--the program.

But it's time to throw away Tressel's playbook. Blessing in disguise after all? 

It's time to ignore the temptation to blame the media. They didn't cause this. It's time to shift focus on how good Tressel was, and instead focus on what the program can do to improve. After all, reliance on any one individual can be dangerous.

The program survives...coaches don't. Though Tressel didn't survive, I'll always think the sweater vest still made great fashion sense. It fit Ohio State like a glove.