Keep the Line in Focus

It was, as they say, done by the book. And now the book is closed. Cal State Northridge administrators said late last week that they finished their investigation into allegations of cheating against one of the school’s top volleyball players. The verdict: not guilty. If only the same could be said of the system responsible for putting such incredible pressure on athletes and coaches that both are tempted to play on the edge of academic integrity.

Claims that Nancy Ma had homework and tests completed by teammates and friends were serious. Worse, though, were accusations that the cheating took place with the knowledge--encouragement even--of the team’s coaching staff. The claims threatened the academic careers of students and the professional careers of coaches, not to mention the institutional credibility of CSUN. Everyone deserved a thorough investigation--even more thorough than the university’s standard procedure for academic fraud.

Don’t doubt that the university followed all the proper procedures in this case. Representatives from both the athletic department and the faculty investigated claims made by current and former players, but could not corroborate allegations that Ma had tests and homework done for her. Ma was cleared of wrongdoing, as were volleyball Coach Lian Lu and assistant Kathleen O’Laughlin. Clearly, the system got served: Interviews were conducted, exams compared, reports filed.

All but the most naive understand that hot collegiate athletes get special treatment, including tutors and other help. It’s the byproduct of a culture obsessed with sports. These kids can generate money and prestige for campuses. Ma is no exception. But while schools hungry for a winning team regularly take pains to make sure athletes stay current in their academic load, the danger lurks of bending standards too far and crossing the line between helping and cheating.

It’s a blurry line. All good coaches understand that it’s in their best interests for their charges to succeed academically as well as athletically. Smart coaches also understand the position of power they hold over their athletes--who often are little more than kids eager to please. Coaches succeed in competition because they form such a bond with their teams that athletes understand not only what a coach says, but what a coach means. It’s the kind of subtlety that distinguishes great teams from the merely good.

It’s also the kind of subtlety that can get lost in an investigation. No one disputes that Lu and O’Laughlin wanted other athletes to help Ma, to study with her and make her feel comfortable in a situation few can imagine: attending a university at which instruction is in a foreign tongue. They encouraged the team to study with Ma and maybe even take a class or two with her. There’s nothing wrong with that. It builds the camaraderie necessary for team play. But--correctly or not--at least one player interpreted those suggestions to mean something more. Words like “help” and “support” obviously meant different things to different members of the team.

Making clear just what words mean--and, more important, what they don’t--is the responsibility of coaches and the administration that supports them. Their first job, after all, is to serve the athletes off whom they make a living. No athlete should confuse teamwork with cheating. But this case demonstrates that the line has blurred. CSUN needs to bring it back into focus.