Old men in suits do some things very well. They make great doctors. They're
wonderful hosts at fancy restaurants. And where would we be without pinstriped
lawyers?
One thing they don't do very well is handle young athletes.
They frown when shirts wiggle out of college basketball players' shorts. They
see red when NFL players attach a No. 40 Pat Tillman sticker to their helmets,
or god forbid, wear mismatched socks. They go ballistic when Dale Earnhardt
Jr. talks like country kids talk.
"Old," by the way is a very relative term. In this context, it's anyone
who's never worn jeans so loose they border on NC-17, who's never worn a baseball
hat sideways, who's never worn a XXXL jersey, who's never worn a bulky silver
chain around his neck. It's people who wouldn't know "American Idiot"
from "American Idol," people who think "Reasonable Doubt"
is a legal tome.
Pass one of those tests and you can probably halfway relate to kids, whether
you're 30 or 90.
I first started scratching my head about all of this when some brainiac at the
NCAA decided college basketball players weren't presentable enough. So, in an
attempt to make its work force more corporate, the NCAA outlawed untucked jerseys
several years ago. Ditto football jerseys.
A minor thing? Yes, but to me, it made the game look too robotic, too sanitized,
too - well - uniform.
Last month, the NBA instituted a dress code clearly aimed at the hip-hop culture
that's transformed the league from Armani to Nike in a decade.
But this isn't just about keeping up appearances physically. It's also a matter
of keeping up appearances of propriety - which brings us to John Naparlo.
Naparlo is the James Madison basketball player who was ordered by the NCAA either
to put his budding country music career on hiatus or turn in his uniform. Not
a likely starter for the Dukes, Naparlo made the smart choice: he chose his
potential future over a college diversion.
Still he wasn't happy. "It's irritating," he said Monday.
Fortunately, if all goes well, help is on the way.
Colonial Athletic Association commissioner Tom Yeager is asking the NCAA - an
institution he admires - to let common sense trump a strict interpretation of
the rules in this case. The rules say an athlete cannot financially benefit
from his association with an NCAA tam, in Naparlo's case by using his image
to promote his CD, "Cowboy Up And Party Down." Common sense says a
reserve guard on an obscure basketball team isn't exactly a hot commodity.
"In John's case, it's really kind of the opposite," Yeager said via
telephone from his Richmond office. "He has a music career that's arguably
of greater visibility that his playing [career] at this point. …
"This isn't some guy using his athletic ability to garner additional money."
Yeager got involved in the case by happenstance.
Two weeks ago, he was attending the James Madison-William & Mary football
game in Williamsburg, and Naparlo was sitting in the row behind him. Not that
Yeager knew Naparlo, but a companion pointed him out and told the commissioner
about Johnny Napp's eligibility problems.
Yeager turned around, talked to Naparlo and later decided on his own to ask
the NCAA to change its mind.
After playing phone tag, Yeager finally began pitching his case to collegiate
sports' governing body on Monday. At this point, Naparlo doesn't know whether
he would come back - he's not sure it would be fair to the team, he's not sure
it would be fair to his increasingly busy music career.
"If they told me I could come back, I would have to sit down and reevaluate
[it] all over again," Naparlo said.
Make no mistake, though; the 6-foot-3 senior would love, somehow, to play. He
intends to be in the stands tonight when the Dukes face Bridgewater College
in an exhibition game at the Convocation Center.
Yeager's argument is that the Naparlo affair is an "unintended consequence"
of a good rule, a rule meant to prevent crass commercialism and preserve amateurism
in college sports. It's likely NCAA officials will listen carefully. Not only
did Yeager once work for the organization, he is still a member of its infractions
committee - in other words, he's a respected voice in the athletics committee.
Presumably, he'll be a tad more tactful than I would be.
The NCAA might have had a point if they were flagging Naparlo for the album's
cheesy title, but to suggest that a role player on one of the worst teams in
the CAA will benefit from the sale of his CD is indeed silly. As Naparlo himself
pointed out, he's not Peyton Manning at the University of Tennessee.
I mean, true, a few folks probably will buy the album simply because Naparlo
is a basketball player (or they want to hear a country cover of Tom Jones' sultry
"She's A Lady"). But explain to me how the NCAA can sanctimoniously
tell a kid to zip his vocal cords when you look at the stinking mess that college
sports has created with $2 million coaches, sick sky-boxes at stadiums, mid-week
night games in football (that's really great for "student-athletes"
isn't it?), the ACC's greedy raid on the Big East, and programs where the Michael
Vicks and Carmelo Anthonys are essentially hired guns to produce championships.
Anyone who thinks the Hokies or Cavaliers aren't businesses still thinks Knute
Rockne is leading Notre Dame's resurgence this year.
Again, Yeager's arguments to the NCAA will be more nuanced. For one thing, he
agrees with the intent of the rule.
"It runs basically to the idea of amateur athletes," Yeager said,
"and basically should every recognizable football player, basketball player,
Olympic skier - whatever - have the ability to go out and do advertisements
for Harrisonburg Auto Mall or Chevrolet or whatever."
But he said the NCAA also needs to use common sense in interpreting its rules,
especially when it preaches about the need for athletes to be well-rounded students.
In other words, let the kid play - and play. Assuming he wants to.