Lying is not foreign to college sport. I know from experience as a sports information director – a period when I, like my colleagues nationwide, would inflate heights and weights of players in media guides. That was trivial, and sharp sportswriters saw through the subterfuge. What is not trivial is the lying we see going on now, as former Athletic Director Bill Moos departs from the University. At 55, he has been an architect of success in the past decade at Oregon.
When one resigns, it does not necessarily come with a negotiated severance payment – in Moos’ case, almost $2 million. Severance is there because coaches and directors are vulnerable to being fired for unimpressive records, or on the whims of a president or alumnus of great wealth. Unlike faculty members, many of whom have protection of tenure, directors and coaches are subject to being fired at a moment’s notice. Severance softens the blow.
So what’s with this massive severance for Moos when he and the University tell us he resigned? Some close to the program suggest that Phil Knight of Nike demanded it. Moos is one of the rare Oregon athletic figures over the years with the courage to challenge the dictates of Knight, most recently about changes to the track program.
So Moos was not fired? When President David Frohnmayer asked for Moos’ resignation, that was the same as firing him. The news media and the public have been denied the truth in this matter. That caused a Eugene sports editor to suggest that he has been too willing to accept announcements from the University without digging further. He should have realized that long ago, especially with issues involving Knight.
The Nike multimillionaire was incensed a few years ago over something UO students properly engineered. These students helped the UO become part of the Worker Rights Consortium, which monitors employee relations of corporations, including Nike. He threatened to renege on his promised donation of millions for expansion of Autzen Stadium unless the University withdrew from the WRC. Within weeks, the State System of Higher Education suddenly ruled it was illegal for its schools to be in the WRC.
With posed regret, Frohnmayer announced that the University’s previous decision to ally itself with the WRC would be reversed. Then, a few weeks later, with a sigh of relief, he watched as Knight came waddling back to his alma mater with his Nike gold nuggets.
The issue transcends sports. It reveals the growing threat to the independence of higher education everywhere, especially from corporate donors who feel they can assert their will on schools because they bought that right with big donations.
I learned how the same intimidation was used on the UO School of Law when a former law dean told me how a gift from a Eugene lumber magnate resulted in the University dropping the Environmental Law Clinic. Dean Chapin Clark said the magnate tore up a check for $50,000 in front of University and Law administrators. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I will make out an even larger check, if you drop the Environmental Center.”
It was dropped.
One can understand why state schools turn to corporate donors for money, especially as state aid diminishes. We’re thankful for that generosity- but not when donors see it as license to exert their will on academia or athletics, as in hiring and firing coaches and directors.
Some feel we are becoming Nike U. If so, that would solve all financial problems. But it would mean the destruction of academic integrity, which has already begun.
George Beres is a Eugene resident and former sports information director for the Athletic Department