When Clemson University terminated football player Ray Ray McElrathbey's scholarship earlier this month, it showed the world exactly where it stands as an institute of higher learning: uncommonly low ground.
McElrathbey's story, which began as a feel-good tale of love, family and responsibility, has become a tragedy -- or more rightly a travesty -- that represents only the latest and most cold-hearted in a long line of incidents exposing big-time college athletics as callous and hypocritical.
McElrathbey, a junior running back, garnered national attention in 2006 after he rescued his then 11-year-old brother Fahmarr from foster care and a disastrous home situation, where the boys' parents struggled with gambling and crack cocaine addictions. After receiving a full scholarship to play Division I football at Clemson, Ray Ray took custody of his brother to provide him a stable home, albeit on a college campus.
McElrathbey's decision to adopt and raise his younger brother demonstrates all of the possibilities that college athletics can and should offer people our age. Competition is obviously important, but this is not professional sports, where multimillion-dollar contracts rule the playing field.
College athletics ought to provide a place for growth and maturity, and an opportunity for learning that dwarfs any simple athletic accomplishment. In other words, sports should be only the means to the greater ends of education and personal growth.
At a time when most college students only choose to worry about essays and nighttime fun, McElrathbey's maturity ought to be rewarded and encouraged, endorsed as an example for all others to follow.
In 2006, both ESPN and the Football Writers Association honored McElrathbey with awards for excellence and courage. Even the National Collegiate Athletic Association, which normally governs student-athletes with an uncompassionate iron fist, recognized these special circumstances. They allowed McElrathbey a rare waiver to accept monetary and personal aid from the university and the public.
Yet none of that mattered in the eyes of Clemson football coach Tommy Bowden. It made no difference to him that McElrathbey managed to juggle daycare, football and an academic workload that saw him make the honor roll last fall as a sociology major.
No, once 25 new incoming freshman recruits signed with the Clemson Tigers last month, he became expendable. Though McElrathbey still had two more years of eligibility, Bowden cut off his scholarship just so the team could have one extra lineman or backup tight end. Apparently, the message Bowden sends to his players teaches nothing about teamwork or loyalty.
But the blame stretches far beyond Bowden to Clemson University itself. The values that McElrathbey displays by trying to raise his teenage brother -- namely maturity, compassion and the opportunity to succeed -- have been resoundingly rejected by the university. Instead of standing as a monument to education and advancement, Clemson has allowed the increasingly cold mentality of professional sports to seep into the fabric of its being.
Clemson's mission statement, which speaks boldly of a commitment to "public service in the context of general education, student development and continuing education," displays only the false virtues that the university does not attempt to realize. When did athletics, which have no place in its stated vision, become more important than recognizing and helping a special and mature college student?
Hopefully the McElrathbey brothers can move past this event and succeed on their own, despite the setback. Perhaps coach Bowden and the university he represents should consider what the word 'scholarship' actually means. Good people like Ray Ray and Fahmarr deserve much more than this inhuman college athletics system has to offer them.
