College football players who can make the grade - SMU made the right choice

Following is an highly insightful article written by Frank Fitzpatrick in The (September 9th) Philadelphia Inquirer. The article focuses on Don Ferrell, Penn State's recently retired academic advisor.
This article is relevant to the frequent Ponyfans.com debates about SMU's approach to admissions of student-athletes.
Considering all of the challenges college programs face in recruiting, developing, retaining and graduating football players, I am comfortable with SMU's decision NOT to recruit junior college players. SMU as an educational institution (including football player graduation rates) is better now than it has ever been. Cutting corners in athletic admissions (including high school recruits) and the negative publicity that results would set SMU back. SMU football win again while doing things the right way...I don't know when, but it will.
ARTICLE:
The man who made sure Paterno's Lions made grade
Academic advisers are rarely visible. Not so their results.
By Frank Fitzpatrick
Inquirer Staff Writer
STATE COLLEGE, Pa. - You might be a Penn State football fanatic, with season tickets at Beaver Stadium, a full set of Joe Paterno bobbleheads, and growling Nittany Lions plastered all over your RV.
But chances are you have never heard of Don Ferrell.
After two decades as an essential but largely invisible member of Paterno's football staff, albeit less concerned with X's and O's than A's and B's, Ferrell retired earlier this summer.
The team's academic adviser since 1982, Ferrell mentored, tutored, recruited, counseled, cajoled and scolded thousands of students, helping to ensure that while he remained in the shadows, Penn State players from LaVar Arrington to Mike Zordich stayed in the spotlight.
His anonymity, however, did not imply insignificance. Ferrell's annual task was to make sure all 140 players stayed eligible. Since Penn State football generated $34.7 million in revenue last year - money that kept the rest of the athletic department afloat - any slipup could have been disastrous.
"I've been very lucky," said Ferrell, who kept a promise that he would retire at 62. "When I took this job, I told everyone there would never be a day when I would cheat. If you told me you needed this kid but he wasn't doing the right thing, I'd say, 'Well, you're going to have to do without him.' "
The unremitting push for winning seasons and budget surpluses has led recently to cheating scandals at Minnesota, Tennessee and Fresno State. Academic advisers, their principles challenged by the headlong thrust for glory, often find themselves caught in the middle. Some succumb to the pressure, whether it's writing a paper for athletes or steering them toward worthless courses.
"I'll call my colleagues at those schools and say, 'How the hell could you have done that? That's you and your good name that's being smeared now,' " said Ferrell, who reflected on his long career during a recent interview.
It may be luck or simply that Penn State football is as righteous as supporters insist, but whatever the reason, the program has kept its nose clean and its graduation rate high.
According to the most recent NCAA Graduation Rates Report, 88 percent of the Penn State football players who enrolled in 1995-96 graduated. The Division I-A average was 52 percent. And among African Americans, Penn State football's rate of 82 percent was nearly the double the 42 percent national average.
"The thing I like is that Joe never went into the junior-college ranks," Ferrell said. "We recruited kids that wanted to come to Penn State and wanted to succeed at both things" - academics as well as athletics.
According to Ferrell, Paterno's reputation as a coach who insists that players lend a full measure of devotion to classwork is no spin job. Though all coaches preach academics, he said, many will compromise when it comes to their star tailback's grades.
"I always told Joe when kids were having trouble, and he always backed me," Ferrell said. "When kids weren't performing academically, he'd look at me and say, 'Did they flunk?' I'd say, 'Yeah,' and he'd take care of them. I never had to go out on a limb and do something against my character or integrity."
Paterno in turn credited Ferrell, who retired June 30, for contributing to his squeaky-clean reputation.
"Don has been a great asset to the university in many different ways," Paterno said. "He was an excellent coach and teacher," and "our academic success and high graduation rates are a great tribute to him."
That's not to suggest that all was sunshine and light during Ferrell's lengthy tenure.
His failures - particularly, intelligent players who flunked out - still gnaw at him. In his later years, he had to compensate for subpar high school educations while dealing with increasingly rigid NCAA regulations. And as NFL salaries rose, outside influences, in his mind, grew ever more insidious.
"I used to have rap sessions with the guys," Ferrell said. "I'd tell them exactly what was going on in the world. I'd tell them: 'You're going to be out there some night and there will be two or three girls who want to jump your bones just because you're an athlete. They don't give a damn about you. They just want to be associated with you.'
"These guys spent so much time on the gridiron that they're naïve. They'd think, 'Oh, man, girls are just girls.' Not those girls. They are manipulative. They know what it's like to ride the coattails of somebody they think is going to be making $10 million in a few years."
Ferrell, a native of Washington, Pa., who played football and basketball at Drake, came to Penn State as an assistant to basketball coach John Bach in 1970. He left the basketball program in 1975 and coached the bowling teams. He became a full-time academic adviser in 1982 when the concept was still new, serving initially with the football and women's and men's basketball teams.
"I had to deal with Joe Paterno, Rene Portland and [deleted] Harter," Ferrell said with a laugh, referring to the coaches of the three teams. "You want to talk about three different personalities. There was no way I could handle all of those teams and those coaches. I went to Jim Tarman [then the athletic director], and he said, 'How about just working with Joe?' "
Ferrell saw college athletes evolve from naïve innocents to worldly - perhaps too worldly - young men. He termed his view of those changes "The Suitcase Scenario."
"When I first started, the guys would bring a little travel bag on road trips," Ferrell said. "Everything they had was contained in there, and you knew what to expect. They took out a shirt, you knew it was a shirt.
"Then they started bringing a suitcase. You still pretty much knew what was inside. A few years later, they came with a suitcase and a travel bag. You knew what was in the suitcase, but the travel bag was extracurricular.
"Now they bring two suitcases and two travel bags and you don't know what's going to happen when they open it."
Still, going from high school to a university that makes new athletic and academic demands can be daunting for students. Ferrell, without getting specific, said the transition was even more difficult for those from school districts that "year after year produce the most ill-equipped student-athletes I've ever seen."
And when they struggle, many, having been high school heroes, are reluctant to seek help.
"It's tough on a young person who has been put on a pedestal since sixth or seventh grade, and been made to believe he's the almighty savior, the best athlete in the world, to realize that he needs help," Ferrell said.
"It's not like strapping on the hardware," he said. "They know this is going to be hard. You look at the kids and there's a distrust in all of them. My job was to get inside that head and to form a relationship. I think I did that often enough that
This article is relevant to the frequent Ponyfans.com debates about SMU's approach to admissions of student-athletes.
Considering all of the challenges college programs face in recruiting, developing, retaining and graduating football players, I am comfortable with SMU's decision NOT to recruit junior college players. SMU as an educational institution (including football player graduation rates) is better now than it has ever been. Cutting corners in athletic admissions (including high school recruits) and the negative publicity that results would set SMU back. SMU football win again while doing things the right way...I don't know when, but it will.
ARTICLE:
The man who made sure Paterno's Lions made grade
Academic advisers are rarely visible. Not so their results.
By Frank Fitzpatrick
Inquirer Staff Writer
STATE COLLEGE, Pa. - You might be a Penn State football fanatic, with season tickets at Beaver Stadium, a full set of Joe Paterno bobbleheads, and growling Nittany Lions plastered all over your RV.
But chances are you have never heard of Don Ferrell.
After two decades as an essential but largely invisible member of Paterno's football staff, albeit less concerned with X's and O's than A's and B's, Ferrell retired earlier this summer.
The team's academic adviser since 1982, Ferrell mentored, tutored, recruited, counseled, cajoled and scolded thousands of students, helping to ensure that while he remained in the shadows, Penn State players from LaVar Arrington to Mike Zordich stayed in the spotlight.
His anonymity, however, did not imply insignificance. Ferrell's annual task was to make sure all 140 players stayed eligible. Since Penn State football generated $34.7 million in revenue last year - money that kept the rest of the athletic department afloat - any slipup could have been disastrous.
"I've been very lucky," said Ferrell, who kept a promise that he would retire at 62. "When I took this job, I told everyone there would never be a day when I would cheat. If you told me you needed this kid but he wasn't doing the right thing, I'd say, 'Well, you're going to have to do without him.' "
The unremitting push for winning seasons and budget surpluses has led recently to cheating scandals at Minnesota, Tennessee and Fresno State. Academic advisers, their principles challenged by the headlong thrust for glory, often find themselves caught in the middle. Some succumb to the pressure, whether it's writing a paper for athletes or steering them toward worthless courses.
"I'll call my colleagues at those schools and say, 'How the hell could you have done that? That's you and your good name that's being smeared now,' " said Ferrell, who reflected on his long career during a recent interview.
It may be luck or simply that Penn State football is as righteous as supporters insist, but whatever the reason, the program has kept its nose clean and its graduation rate high.
According to the most recent NCAA Graduation Rates Report, 88 percent of the Penn State football players who enrolled in 1995-96 graduated. The Division I-A average was 52 percent. And among African Americans, Penn State football's rate of 82 percent was nearly the double the 42 percent national average.
"The thing I like is that Joe never went into the junior-college ranks," Ferrell said. "We recruited kids that wanted to come to Penn State and wanted to succeed at both things" - academics as well as athletics.
According to Ferrell, Paterno's reputation as a coach who insists that players lend a full measure of devotion to classwork is no spin job. Though all coaches preach academics, he said, many will compromise when it comes to their star tailback's grades.
"I always told Joe when kids were having trouble, and he always backed me," Ferrell said. "When kids weren't performing academically, he'd look at me and say, 'Did they flunk?' I'd say, 'Yeah,' and he'd take care of them. I never had to go out on a limb and do something against my character or integrity."
Paterno in turn credited Ferrell, who retired June 30, for contributing to his squeaky-clean reputation.
"Don has been a great asset to the university in many different ways," Paterno said. "He was an excellent coach and teacher," and "our academic success and high graduation rates are a great tribute to him."
That's not to suggest that all was sunshine and light during Ferrell's lengthy tenure.
His failures - particularly, intelligent players who flunked out - still gnaw at him. In his later years, he had to compensate for subpar high school educations while dealing with increasingly rigid NCAA regulations. And as NFL salaries rose, outside influences, in his mind, grew ever more insidious.
"I used to have rap sessions with the guys," Ferrell said. "I'd tell them exactly what was going on in the world. I'd tell them: 'You're going to be out there some night and there will be two or three girls who want to jump your bones just because you're an athlete. They don't give a damn about you. They just want to be associated with you.'
"These guys spent so much time on the gridiron that they're naïve. They'd think, 'Oh, man, girls are just girls.' Not those girls. They are manipulative. They know what it's like to ride the coattails of somebody they think is going to be making $10 million in a few years."
Ferrell, a native of Washington, Pa., who played football and basketball at Drake, came to Penn State as an assistant to basketball coach John Bach in 1970. He left the basketball program in 1975 and coached the bowling teams. He became a full-time academic adviser in 1982 when the concept was still new, serving initially with the football and women's and men's basketball teams.
"I had to deal with Joe Paterno, Rene Portland and [deleted] Harter," Ferrell said with a laugh, referring to the coaches of the three teams. "You want to talk about three different personalities. There was no way I could handle all of those teams and those coaches. I went to Jim Tarman [then the athletic director], and he said, 'How about just working with Joe?' "
Ferrell saw college athletes evolve from naïve innocents to worldly - perhaps too worldly - young men. He termed his view of those changes "The Suitcase Scenario."
"When I first started, the guys would bring a little travel bag on road trips," Ferrell said. "Everything they had was contained in there, and you knew what to expect. They took out a shirt, you knew it was a shirt.
"Then they started bringing a suitcase. You still pretty much knew what was inside. A few years later, they came with a suitcase and a travel bag. You knew what was in the suitcase, but the travel bag was extracurricular.
"Now they bring two suitcases and two travel bags and you don't know what's going to happen when they open it."
Still, going from high school to a university that makes new athletic and academic demands can be daunting for students. Ferrell, without getting specific, said the transition was even more difficult for those from school districts that "year after year produce the most ill-equipped student-athletes I've ever seen."
And when they struggle, many, having been high school heroes, are reluctant to seek help.
"It's tough on a young person who has been put on a pedestal since sixth or seventh grade, and been made to believe he's the almighty savior, the best athlete in the world, to realize that he needs help," Ferrell said.
"It's not like strapping on the hardware," he said. "They know this is going to be hard. You look at the kids and there's a distrust in all of them. My job was to get inside that head and to form a relationship. I think I did that often enough that