Forget forgetting

Michigan can't erase scandal from everyone's memory

Now, at the University of Michigan's request, we're all supposed to develop amnesia. The Fab Five? Never heard of 'em. All those Wolverines wins, the high-fiving, chest-bumping C-Webb-Jalen-and-Juwan good times, the championship game appearance in the NCAA Tournament? It was all a dream, a figment of your imagination. That's what the university would like everyone to believe, as though that would make everything all right.

Michigan's administrators tacitly admitted last week what everyone who was paying attention already knew -- that the basketball program's dominance in the '90s, featuring teams with, among others, current NBA players Chris Webber, Jalen Rose, Juwan Howard and Maurice Taylor, was infected with rampant cheating. A booster named Ed Martin was apparently dishing out under-the-table payments to players the way a good point guard distributes the ball -- widely and often.

This wasn't just the stuff of NCAA violations. Real laws were broken -- Martin has admitted that some of the money came from his gambling operation -- and some of the parties who were allegedly involved, including Webber, his father and his aunt, are facing possible jail sentences on charges of lying to a grand jury. For allowing such shenanigans to go on under its nose, the university could and should face stiff penalties from the NCAA, but the school has its own ideas on the best punishment: Forget the whole thing.

The university announced last week that it is essentially wiping the Fab Five and their immediate successors off the books. The 112 victories from the years that Martin has admitted to paying players have been forfeited, the four banners hanging in Crisler Arena commemorating those teams' accomplishments have been taken down, he school has banned itself from the 2003 NCAA Tournament and it will pay back the $450,000 it received for its tournament appearances. "Taking down those banners was the dagger in my heart," Michigan athletic director Bill Martin said.

Maybe so, but for the rest of us, Michigan's actions are like trying to unring a bell -- no matter how hard you try, it just can't be done. Forfeiting games is fine, but it's hard to imagine that the players who absorbed 20- and 30-point beatings from the Wolverines are going to get much satisfaction now, years later, from being able to say they technically won. Nor will the teams that might have played in the NCAA title game against North Carolina in 1992 sleep much better at night knowing that Michigan has said, "Oh, uh, never mind." The $450,000 is a drop in the bucket when compared to the windfall the university reaped, directly and indirectly from those teams.

Think of the revenue from the increased sales of Michigan merchandise during the Fab Five years. Imagine the bump in contributions from alumni who were thrilled to have such powerhouse teams. Consider the other blue-chip athletes who were drawn to Ann Arbor by seeing Webber and friends on national television and thus themselves became revenue producers for the school. If someone had told Michigan 10 years ago that the school could buy all that for $450,000, the Wolverines would have thought they were getting a great deal.

Michigan's self-imposed penalties may indicate some sense of remorse, but the penalites are clearly an attempt to convince the NCAA not to impose even harsher sanctions. The Wolverines are looking for haven't-they-suffered-enough sympathy, but there's a reason culprits aren't allowed to choose their own sentences.

Besides, there's just no way to undo what has already been done. Wishing cannot make it so. Michigan can ask us to forgive, but don't expect us to forget.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Phil Taylor writes about a Hot Button issue every Monday on CNNSI.com

 

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