NEW ORLEANS — A mere 921 days ago, the NCAA delivered a document to the University of Kansas that called its men’s head basketball coach a cheater.
Since then, Kansas has won 81 basketball games, signed four McDonald’s All-Americans, taken home a pair of Big 12 titles and now made a Final Four. As for the coach? Well, Teflon Bill Self has been so inconvenienced by the whole thing that Kansas has subsequently awarded him with a lifetime contract that might as well be a middle finger pointed toward Indianapolis — an NCAA embarrassment that could only be topped by Self holding up the national title trophy on Monday night.
The NCAA nihilists are surely rooting for Teflon Bill to do just that, for no other reason than a collective desire to spray more propane onto this burning house of amateurism. If you’re one of the few true believers remaining, nothing could be more cringeworthy than the image of Mark Emmert passing a trophy to a coach with five Level 1 allegations pending against his program.
But however it ends this weekend, the saga of Teflon Bill has been a gift. Because of all the scandals that have passed through the NCAA’s hall of mirrors, none has so sharply reflected how grimy the sport of college basketball actually is and how impossible it can be to hold anyone accountable when a school digs in on behalf of a coach who wins.
If you really want to understand what it’s like to be Teflon Bill, what’s really in the soul of a college coach who could go down as one of the five best of all time, it’s probably best to start with the text messages shortly after Kansas renewed a mega-deal with Adidas.
“Just got to get a couple real guys,” Self texted on Sept. 19, 2017 to T.J. Gassnola, the flamboyant Adidas bagman who later admitted as part of a plea deal that he had paid people connected to two former Kansas players.
“In my mind, it’s KU, Bill Self. Everyone else fall into line,” Gassnola responded. “Too (expletive) bad. That’s what’s right for Adidas basketball. And I know I’m right. The more you have lottery picks and you happy. That’s how it should work in my mind.”
Self: “That’s how ur (sic) works. At UNC and Duke.”
Gassnola: “I promise you I got this. I have never let you down. Except Dyondre (referring to Deandre Ayton) lol. We will get it right.”
Despite the words we can all read, Gassnola testified that Self didn’t know about the payments. At Big 12 media day in 2019, Teflon Bill was evasive but argued that nothing in the text messages indicated wrongdoing. And every step of the way, both Kansas and Self have fought tooth and nail against the NCAA’s theory of the case that Adidas was acting as a booster to deliver players to Lawrence. Kansas even went so far as to cast itself as the victim of fraud, suing former Adidas executive Jim Gatto for $1 million. (They settled in the low six figures. Congratulations on the windfall, Jayhawks.)
For all the poetic purity around the NCAA Tournament, this is the way college basketball actually works: A Hall of Fame coach so desperate to get players, and simultaneously so paranoid about his competitors, that the championship rings or the players he’s put in the NBA or the allure of Allen Field House isn’t enough to get the “real guys.” In the end, he knows he needs T.J. Gassnola’s help, even though he supposedly doesn’t know exactly what that help entails.
It’s worth bringing up again now, as Kansas prepares to play in Saturday’s national semifinals, because hardly anyone else is. That’s what happens in the NCAA’s justice system, where three full seasons can go by without a resolution: Everyone just moves on.
But you know who shouldn’t move on? Miami, which lost to Kansas in the Elite Eight. Or Providence or Creighton, whose seasons were ended by the Jayhawks earlier in the tournament. Or Villanova, which has to play Kansas in this Final Four.
“This delay is really problematic,” SEC commissioner Greg Sankey said Thursday, referring not to Kansas individually but an entire batch of unresolved cases at multiple schools related to the 2017 FBI investigation. “It’s really problematic, and I don’t know fully what was envisioned and what wasn’t, but we have to have timely outcomes both for those accused and those competing against those who are accused. That has to be a point of emphasis.”
Sankey is one of the college athletics officials taking the lead on a committee that will recommend changes in the NCAA’s enforcement model later this year, and speed of investigations is undoubtedly going to be a key element. A bipartisan bill from two U.S. Senators proposes that investigations should be wrapped up within eight months and that hearings should take place no more than a year after.
“First, it’s got to be fair,” NCAA president Mark Emmert said of the effort to rebuild the enforcement model. “It’s got to be swift. And it’s got to not punish the innocent, if you will, those that weren’t involved in those activities.”
With Kansas, we’re already long past that point.
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If the allegations against Kansas ultimately stick, it’s likely that Self will face some kind of coaching suspension, perhaps even a significant one, and the Jayhawks will be banned from the postseason in 2023. But if the ridiculous length of the investigation allows Kansas to win a national title in the interim, has justice really been done?
And what about the players coming to Kansas next season, including five-star prospects M.J. Rice and Gradey Dick? Is it fair to have them bear the brunt of a punishment for offenses that occurred years ago?
This is what the NCAA’s system has wrought: It’s not really fair to anyone, except perhaps the guy who has fought it out long enough to rack up more wins, more Final Fours, and more millions of dollars. And in the meantime, there has been so much change foisted upon the NCAA that just last week Adidas announced a plan to directly and legally pay athletes at all Adidas schools.
“Well, I can’t comment on anything that’s ongoing with the case about anything, but I do hope the end is soon,” Teflon Bill said Friday. “I believe we’re getting closer. And I know that no one probably from any party has wanted this to go on as long as it has. But I do believe that the end is soon.”
When the Notice of Allegations was released in 2019, it was written so strongly and directly at Self that you could have envisioned a scenario where he either ran off to the NBA or was forced to resign. Instead, Kansas planted its foot in the ground and got into the procedural muck with the NCAA, where months of delays have turned into years. Now, regardless of whatever punishment Self gets, Kansas is positioned to ride it out and resume business as usual on the other side.
On Monday night, Emmert may very well hand a second national championship trophy to the coach his association accused of cheating nearly 1,000 days ago without the first consequence landing on his doorstep. Among the many failures of the NCAA system, that would rank right at the top. For Kansas, it would justify whatever comes next.
Follow USA TODAY Sports columnist Dan Wolken on Twitter @DanWolken
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Kansas’ Bill Self was called cheater by NCAA; his power has only grown