SMU's Biggest Long Term Rally Killer-17 Years Ago

The issues and standards have changed BUT this is the root cause of SMU problems today NOT the Death Penalty
The Dallas Morning News
Rossley's roadblock: High SMU standards
Cathy Harasta THE
Published: December 16, 1990
SMU took the safe and practical way out with its football coach appointment Saturday. Tom Rossley slid behind the wheel -- wheels, in this case -- as naturally as a Mercedes eases into a Park Cities driveway. Athletic director Forrest Gregg and university president A. Kenneth Pye did not have to kick the tires to know the mileage on Rossley, the former Mustangs' offensive coordinator. Rossley, knowing the SMU situation and system as he does, was the one with more reasons to be skeptical about the job he accepted Saturday morning. He was the one who needed to kick the tires to see what gives.
Let's hope he kicked hard. Let's hope he prodded those big wheels to test for leaks. Let's hope he came up with more than hot air for answers.
The biggest challenge in trying to build a winner at SMU is not the University of Texas. It is not A&M. Not Baylor. Not any opposing program. The most certain long-range rally-killer appears to be SMU's own, home-grown, snooty-and-stiff admissions policy for incoming freshmen athletes.
The question is whether SMU's rigid standards automatically foil any chance for the football program to contend for more than perennial punching bag of the Southwest Conference. If SMU had hired Bill Walsh on Saturday, many still would doubt even a genius could work within SMU's admissions system. In fact, depending on how many algebra courses Walsh has taken, the genius himself might not even qualify for admission to SMU.
This is where Rossley comes in. And why he ultimately was the only one who could see his way clear to work within SMU's framework and still aim for a competitive football program. He was the first assistant hired by Gregg when he took command of the Mustangs' revival after the NCAA found lethal violations and shut down the program after the 1986 season.
Gregg stepped down as coach last month to focus on the athletic director's position. Rossley probably was the only candidate for Gregg's old job who knew how to gauge whether the admissions policy has gained any give.
SMU's admission standards are sterner than those of the NCAA. No one can complain about high academic standards. The problem is that an inflexible and time-consuming admissions policy can scare off potential Mustangs. It likely scared off dozens of applicants for the football coach's job, as well.
But it did not scare off Rossley.
Rossley, who left SMU after the 1989 season to become the Atlanta Falcons' quarterbacks coach, sounded encouraged by favorable changes concerning the admissions procedure. Though he and Pye said the policy has not changed, it now takes less time to determine if an athlete is a prospect for recruitment. This improved efficiency was important to Rossley.
"We're not going to admit someone who we don't think will probably graduate,' Pye said. "I don't really care if the entire rest of the world does it . . . We do not have a major in Leisure Life Management or in Parks, Recreation and Tourism.'
That might explain why precious few SMU students probably were holding their breath to see who would succeed Gregg as football coach. Many of the private school's sports-minded pupils are more likely to hail the new-snow inch count at Beaver Creek than an off-season move by a team that finished last in the SWC.
But what if SMU had a chance to be competitive again? It would take less pomposity and posturing by the academic and administrative arms that want to rescue honor at the expense of athletic glory.
Pye did sound as if he had contemplated the highly subjective nature of a policy that tries to guess which potential student "will probably graduate.' The good doctor said it is, indeed, a subjective determination.
In addition to grade-point average, SAT scores and the completed courses on an applicant's transcript, Pye said the coaches can offer less-conventional evidence that a young man "will probably graduate.' If an applicant's brother has earned a college degree, for example, that might help sway the director of admissions. Said Pye: "The coaches will have a crack at the admissions office.'
Rossley is in a position to know what this might mean: He has a chance to bring back football. He believes it.
Said Rossley: "Everything is right here that we need . . . We're going to win . . . We're going to be competitive.'
He knows Dallas. His family loves the Dallas area. He knows the Mustangs, many of whom he recruited. He installed SMU's offensive system. He knows the coaching staff, which he hopes will remain intact. But most of all, he knows that the admissions situation is his toughest opponent.
The Dallas Morning News
Rossley's roadblock: High SMU standards
Cathy Harasta THE
Published: December 16, 1990
SMU took the safe and practical way out with its football coach appointment Saturday. Tom Rossley slid behind the wheel -- wheels, in this case -- as naturally as a Mercedes eases into a Park Cities driveway. Athletic director Forrest Gregg and university president A. Kenneth Pye did not have to kick the tires to know the mileage on Rossley, the former Mustangs' offensive coordinator. Rossley, knowing the SMU situation and system as he does, was the one with more reasons to be skeptical about the job he accepted Saturday morning. He was the one who needed to kick the tires to see what gives.
Let's hope he kicked hard. Let's hope he prodded those big wheels to test for leaks. Let's hope he came up with more than hot air for answers.
The biggest challenge in trying to build a winner at SMU is not the University of Texas. It is not A&M. Not Baylor. Not any opposing program. The most certain long-range rally-killer appears to be SMU's own, home-grown, snooty-and-stiff admissions policy for incoming freshmen athletes.
The question is whether SMU's rigid standards automatically foil any chance for the football program to contend for more than perennial punching bag of the Southwest Conference. If SMU had hired Bill Walsh on Saturday, many still would doubt even a genius could work within SMU's admissions system. In fact, depending on how many algebra courses Walsh has taken, the genius himself might not even qualify for admission to SMU.
This is where Rossley comes in. And why he ultimately was the only one who could see his way clear to work within SMU's framework and still aim for a competitive football program. He was the first assistant hired by Gregg when he took command of the Mustangs' revival after the NCAA found lethal violations and shut down the program after the 1986 season.
Gregg stepped down as coach last month to focus on the athletic director's position. Rossley probably was the only candidate for Gregg's old job who knew how to gauge whether the admissions policy has gained any give.
SMU's admission standards are sterner than those of the NCAA. No one can complain about high academic standards. The problem is that an inflexible and time-consuming admissions policy can scare off potential Mustangs. It likely scared off dozens of applicants for the football coach's job, as well.
But it did not scare off Rossley.
Rossley, who left SMU after the 1989 season to become the Atlanta Falcons' quarterbacks coach, sounded encouraged by favorable changes concerning the admissions procedure. Though he and Pye said the policy has not changed, it now takes less time to determine if an athlete is a prospect for recruitment. This improved efficiency was important to Rossley.
"We're not going to admit someone who we don't think will probably graduate,' Pye said. "I don't really care if the entire rest of the world does it . . . We do not have a major in Leisure Life Management or in Parks, Recreation and Tourism.'
That might explain why precious few SMU students probably were holding their breath to see who would succeed Gregg as football coach. Many of the private school's sports-minded pupils are more likely to hail the new-snow inch count at Beaver Creek than an off-season move by a team that finished last in the SWC.
But what if SMU had a chance to be competitive again? It would take less pomposity and posturing by the academic and administrative arms that want to rescue honor at the expense of athletic glory.
Pye did sound as if he had contemplated the highly subjective nature of a policy that tries to guess which potential student "will probably graduate.' The good doctor said it is, indeed, a subjective determination.
In addition to grade-point average, SAT scores and the completed courses on an applicant's transcript, Pye said the coaches can offer less-conventional evidence that a young man "will probably graduate.' If an applicant's brother has earned a college degree, for example, that might help sway the director of admissions. Said Pye: "The coaches will have a crack at the admissions office.'
Rossley is in a position to know what this might mean: He has a chance to bring back football. He believes it.
Said Rossley: "Everything is right here that we need . . . We're going to win . . . We're going to be competitive.'
He knows Dallas. His family loves the Dallas area. He knows the Mustangs, many of whom he recruited. He installed SMU's offensive system. He knows the coaching staff, which he hopes will remain intact. But most of all, he knows that the admissions situation is his toughest opponent.