Why now?

Why would the University of Colorado move now to force the resignation of its head football coach, Gary Barnett? This is, after all, a man who kept his job for two years after the most salacious of headlines bombarded his program – namely, among others, that sex, drugs, and alcohol were used to lure recruits; he is a man who outlasted the school’s president, chancellor, and athletic director, all of whom departed in the wake of the scandal.

Those who have rushed to claim Barnett’s dismissal last Thursday as a victory for morality over the pitfalls of big-time college athletics are missing the point. At the same time, those who have suggested that Barnett was forced out simply because his team was getting pounded on the field are merely scratching the surface. For those who were already dismayed when Barnett kept his job after allegations of sexual assault and financial indiscretions rocked his program for the better part of three years, it’s probably even more alarming that the university considered a losing streak to be the first opportunity to send the coach packing.

With three games to play this season, the Buffaloes were 7-2 and Barnett was negotiating a contract extension. Three losses later – including the last two to Nebraska and Texas by a combined score of 100-6 – and Barnett is out of a job. It certainly didn’t help that those last two games were televised nationally, or maybe it did. Getting humiliated before large TV audiences gave the school’s new administration the ammunition, it seems, to do what the previous one probably wished it could have: Force Barnett out.

The football recruiting scandal was a mushroom cloud of allegations that grew to include charges of rape and sexual harassment, witness tampering, and an athletic department slush fund. But no charges were ever filed and Barnett was never directly tied to any of the allegations, allowing him to remain in charge of the program even as those above him resigned in shame. It couldn’t have hurt, either, that Barnett led the Buffaloes to the Big 12 championship game four times five years and won the conference title in 2001.

Barnett’s worst provable sin was the only one that brought him any punishment: referring to former female kicker Katie Hnida as a “terrible” player after she came forward with allegations of rape and harassment. For that remark, Barnett was placed on a paid administrative leave in spring 2004.While those words are what many of Barnett’s detractors remember him for, it should be pointed out that they were taken out of context and badly skewed by the press. Barnett did indeed call Hnida a “terrible” player, but it was in response to a question about why she wasn’t respected by her teammates. Answering honestly, Barnett said football players respect football ability and Hnida didn’t possess much.

At best, the choice of words was unfortunate; at worst, it was idiotic. And it was not surprising that Barnett’s response was instantly contorted to mean that Hnida somehow deserved the indignities she alleged because she was a lousy kicker.

When the national press ran with the story, it seemed a foregone conclusion that Barnett would be fired. Hnida, after all, was not the first to use to the words “rape” and “football team” in the same sentence during Barnett’s tenure, nor would she be the last. But when none of the allegations resulted in criminal charges, the school reinstated him, presumably because he was a successful coach and it feared a lawsuit. Make no mistake, had Colorado ended the 2003 season with back-to-back blowout losses, Barnett’s stay at the school would likely have ended right then and there.

The conclusion to draw from the Colorado situation is that the bottom line in college athletics, or at least at the highest levels of Division I athletics, is not simply winning, but the bottom line: money. Just as finances – in the form of a potential lawsuit and lost donations from backers of the popular and successful coach – prevented Barnett’s dismissal in early 2004,the school moved to fire him now because it couldn’t afford not to, not even at the cost of a $3 million settlement, which Barnett “reluctantly” accepted on Friday.

Nothing demonstrates the out-of-control nature of big-time college athletics more poignantly than coaching salaries, where the top names in football and basketball routinely earn well into seven figures in package deals that include salary, bonuses, product endorsements, and radio and television show deals. Notre Dame, which has never been shy about proclaiming itself above the fray that plagues Division I, recently gave its first-year football coach, Charlie Weis, a 10-year extension reportedly worth close to $40 million. Notre Dame just finished a 9-2 regular season and qualified for a BCS berth and the accompanying $14.8 million payout. Considering the Irish failed to qualify for a bowl under former coach Tyrone Willingham last season, one could infer the school 5made a wise investment.

Money was indeed at the heart of why Barnett was let go now and not two years ago. Losing is a slippery slope in college football. Recruiting, fund raising, selling tickets, and merchandising all tend to get more difficult at a suddenly struggling program. With Colorado getting dragged all over the field during the last month, athletic director Mike Bohn had reason to worry about the effects on the program’s bottom line. Would the stands be full next year with Barnett still in charge? Would boosters – who focus almost exclusively on wins and losses – be as loose with their checkbooks? Would a coach on the hot seat be able to recruit? Nothing harms recruiting like coaching instability, which is why Barnett, who had one year left on his contract, was discussing an extension with Bohn a month ago.

Faced with the scenario of watching a once-proud program sink into mediocrity or worse, $3 million to make a problem go away and start fresh suddenly seemed an attractive option. Bohn, of course, was careful to classify it as a football decision. Even alluding to the legal trouble that plagued Barnett’s tenure might have prompted too many questions as to why the university hadn’t made this move sooner.

“I want it to be clear that I’m going to bring a great football coach to this university,” Bohn assured the nation on Thursday. Not a great man or great leader, not a man who will restore dignity to the program, but a great football coach – one who can stay within nine touchdowns of Texas, or who at least has the fortitude to keep winning should the scandals continue.

That would carry on what’s becoming something of a tradition at Colorado, one that began with former coach Bill McCartney, a man with a penchant for homophobic quips and recruits with lengthy rap sheets, but who nonetheless delivered a national championship in 1990. He was replaced by Rick Neuheisel, who earned the moniker “Slick Rick” while posting back-to-back 10-win seasons before departing suddenly for a raise at Washington and eventually leaving both schools in trouble with the NCAA.

Should we expect any different from a school that suffers years of embarrassing headlines about its drug- and alcohol saturated recruiting parties, yet continues to house its basketball team in a building called the Coors Events Center? Call it the price of doing business.

Mr. Levine is a writer for the statistical Web site FootballOutsiders.com.