Scorecard

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Last week a U.S. district court jury in Chicago convicted sports agents Norby Walters and Lloyd Bloom of one count each of conspiracy, one count each of racketeering conspiracy, one count each of conspiracy to commit mail fraud, wire fraud and extortion, and two counts each of mail fraud. The charges came in connection with the agents' signing, in violation of NCAA rules, 43 college football and basketball players to contracts when the athletes still had college eligibility remaining; the signings occurred between 1984 and '87. (The government argued that signing the players constituted fraud against their schools.) As part of his racketeering conviction, Bloom was also found guilty of extortion for having threatened players who wanted out of their contracts. Walters and Bloom, who are scheduled to be sentenced in late May, face as many as 55 years in prison and fines of as much as $1.5 million each. Their lawyers plan to appeal.

During five weeks of testimony, jurors heard distressing accounts from college administrators and former players about the state of intercollegiate athletics. They learned about the sham educations athletes receive and about greedy players willing to risk their eligibility for a fast buck. As jury forewoman Marjorie Benson put it, "There were no saints here."

In trying to show that the college system was corrupt before Walters and Bloom came on the scene, the defense put into evidence the transcripts of players like Paul Palmer , the 1986 Heisman Trophy runner-up from Temple and one of the agents' former clients. Palmer took such courses as bowling and racquetball, and he failed remedial writing three times. That prompted the director of the remedial English program, Ralph Jenkins, to write to the athletic department complaining that Palmer's record, if it were made public, would be an embarrassment to the university. Palmer never missed a game because of his academic shortcomings, although last July, Temple president Peter Liacouras, citing Palmer's improper contract with the agents, stripped Palmer of his senior-year records and awards.

Perhaps the most damaging testimony against Walters came from Michael Franzese, a captain in the Colombo crime family, who testified that he invested $50,000 in the agents' business and that he gave Walters permission to use his name to enforce contracts with players. Of the specter of organized crime gaining a foothold in professional sports, Mike Duberstein, director of research for the NFL Players Association , said while the jury deliberated, "It's a frightening prospect, one which would have had tremendous repercussions for the integrity of the game."

NCAA executive director Dick Schultz said he felt "comforted" by the verdict, and Bo Schembechler , athletic director at Michigan (one of the schools the agents were convicted of defrauding), said, "This sends a clear message to agents as well as athletes that this type of action is unacceptable." But one agent, David Ware of Atlanta , said, "I know for a fact that there are many players who signed early this year. I don't think the athletes are hesitating [to take money early] because of this trial.... I don't notice one iota of difference from the pre-Norby days to the post-Norby days."

There was also a message for the colleges, whose sometimes laughable academic standards for athletes were revealed to be almost as cynical as the predatory activities of Walters and Bloom. SI's Rick Telander , who has covered college sports extensively, likens Bloom and Walters to "rats in a basement full of garbage. It's fine that we're getting rid of the rats, but it's even more important to get rid of the garbage that attracts them."

FROSH FRACAS

Two of the academic transcripts scrutinized at the Walters-Bloom trial were those of former Iowa football players Ronnie Harmon and Devon Mitchell (SCORECARD, March 27). In his three years in college, Harmon took only one course toward his major, computer science, while enrolling in watercolor painting and billiards. Mitchell's curriculum included ancient athletics, recreational leisure, advanced slo-pitch softball and the ever-popular billiards. Obviously embarrassed by these revelations, Iowa president Hunter Rawlings ordered a crackdown on academic requirements for athletes. Hawkeye players will have to make steady progress toward a degree (as NCAA rules require); they will no longer receive credit for athletic participation; and they will have to take at least 14 credit hours per semester.

Rawlings also called for the NCAA to ban freshmen from participating in athletics, and said that he would push for such a ban on Iowa freshmen if the NCAA didn't enact one within three years. His suggestion touched off a firestorm of controversy in Iowa . While the faculty senate and a majority on the state board of regents backed Rawlings, Governor Terry Branstad said a unilateral ban on freshman eligibility would put the Hawkeyes at a "competitive disadvantage." Football coach Hayden Fry , while acknowledging that he usually plays only a handful of freshmen, said that a ban would hinder Iowa 's recruiting. "I'm hurt," said Fry. "I feel like this has been a slap in the face not just at football but to athletics in general." He suggested he might resign "if the environment is not conducive toward winning."