The punishment he handed out Friday, suspending coach Jim Harbaugh for the team’s three remaining games of the regular season, is guaranteed to make everyone mad.
Michigan, of course, was going to be mad no matter what Petitti did. But the Big Ten suspending Harbaugh while admitting that it had no evidence he was involved or knew of staffer Connor Stalions’ outrageous in-person scouting operation only makes it that much more frustrating for a school and fan base that is now dug-in on the idea that it did nothing wrong. (More on that in a moment.)
But if you drill down on what Petitti did here, is it really that big of a penalty?
Indeed, as of now, Harbaugh will be barred from the stadium for the next three game days — which includes the two biggest games of the season, against Penn State on Saturday and Ohio State on Nov. 25. But he won’t be prohibited from going to practice, game-planning, giving a rah-rah speech or any of his other duties during the week.
The practical effect of that penalty is that nothing really changes for Michigan other than who’s making the fourth-down decisions and calling the timeouts. That’s not nothing, but in terms of Michigan’s chances of winning a national championship, it’s probably about the least-impactful thing Petitti could have done.
If you’re Ohio State today, you’re laughing of course. But you’re also rolling your eyes. And if you’re one of the Big Ten teams who believes that Michigan obtained a significant competitive advantage by breaking the rules, this doesn’t feel very much like justice.
Of course, because Michigan has dug in its heels that nothing should be done — at least until a long, drawn-out NCAA investigative process concludes sometime after they have a parade down Ann Arbor’s Main Street — the lawyering will now commence. How a judge views this dispute is difficult to say, because you’re talking about two very different theories of the Big Ten’s role in handing out this kind of discipline.
In the most basic, broad terms, Michigan’s argument is that an in-season ruling that goes outside the typical NCAA enforcement process constitutes a denial of due process and, as the school said in a statement Friday, “sets an untenable precedent of assessing penalties before an investigation has been completed.”
The Big Ten’s argument is that regardless of who knew about or sanctioned Stalions’ illicit activities, there was clear and direct evidence of a violation that directly impacted the integrity of competition this season. Thus, it falls under the Big Ten’s sportsmanship policy, giving Petitti wide latitude to take this kind of action. In fact, in a letter explaining the penalties, Petitti argues that it would have been more egregious if he didn’t act now and that once the conference sportsmanship policy is reasonably invoked, it isn’t connected to the outcome of an NCAA investigation.
In the end, that distinction is key here, and the Big Ten is probably on the correct side. Players and coaches are penalized or suspended all the time for things that are discovered during an investigation and long before it is complete.
What the Big Ten lays out in its letter is that, in cooperation with NCAA enforcement, it presented Michigan with a mountain of evidence that Stalions broke NCAA rules by deploying a network of associates to film opponents’ sidelines in-person, so that he could sync up all of their signals with specific play calls. If the school wasn’t going to do anything about it beyond suspending Stalions (who ultimately resigned), the conference was willing to force its hand.
Not only did the NCAA and Big Ten have a so-called “Master Spreadsheet’ with the scouting assignments Stalions handed out and dollar figures allocated to those trips, it says it was able to match those names to ticket transfers and had evidence that the sideline videos were being sent back to Michigan.
In other words, there was no longer room for obfuscation about whether a violation of the NCAA’s in-person scouting rule occurred. Stalions was caught, and thus Michigan was caught. That part of the investigation — maybe the most important part — was over.
“The existence of the impermissible scheme is proven,” Petitti wrote. “While other investigatory bodies continue to develop additional evidence of the scope, extent and individual knowledge of the scheme … taking immediate action is appropriate and necessary.”
What’s less convincing, though, is the rationale for sanctioning Harbaugh specifically right now. Even the Big Ten admits there’s no evidence yet that he had knowledge, instead characterizing the suspension as a sanction against the university because “the Head Coach embodies the University for purposes of its football program.”
That’s an interesting characterization, and one that the Big Ten’s lawyers almost certainly crafted in a very specific way, because the NCAA has typically gone after head coaches by saying they have a fairly strict responsibility for wrongdoing committed by their assistance. Knowing Michigan and Harbaugh would take the Big Ten to court and seek an injunction, the Big Ten must not have felt that argument would hold up to scrutiny of its own bylaws.
But from a common-sense perspective, that would actually be a more compelling point to make.
It’s certainly possible Harbaugh knew nothing or very little about what Stalions was up to, but the simple reality is that somebody at Michigan had given him a significant amount of responsibility. There are volumes of photos and videos showing Stalions in close proximity and speaking to coordinators during the games, telling them what play he thought was coming. That job doesn’t just appear out of thin air. At some point, somebody high up at Michigan recognized that Stalions had the ability to steal signs and made him an important part of the game-day operation.
How did a $55,000 per year analyst rise to that level? How did they become aware of his talents? And was there no curiosity about how he obtained such great information on opponents?
Those are the kinds of questions that would be part of a thorough investigation to help determine the culpability of Harbaugh or any other staff member at Michigan. But they don’t really matter in the Big Ten’s fundamental conclusions that this sign-stealing scheme happened, that it was against the rules and that it provided Michigan some level of ill-gotten competitive advantage.
If that’s your starting point, it’s a pretty straightforward argument that Michigan and Harbaugh actually got off easy, and that the Big Ten showed restraint in staying away from a penalty like making Michigan ineligible for the conference title.
Will a judge see it that way, though, as Harbaugh fights to get back on the sideline? The Big Ten made a huge bet Friday and laid out what it believes is an air-tight case. If it’s wrong, the consequences for the league — and probably for Petitti — are going to resonate for years to come.
