Dad drove Mom, Caryn, and me to Chicago. Ms. Dixon’s office was on Michigan Avenue, just west of The Art Institute of Chicago. She told us to valet park at the museum and walk across to her building. Her office was in a beautiful older structure that looked out over the park. We were sent to the tenth floor and ushered into a conference room.
The old building had style, with ten-foot ceilings and intricate plasterwork. A 1960s-style oval table with chrome legs dominated the conference room. There were big, comfortable leather chairs to sit in. A 60-inch big-screen TV was on the far wall. It was interesting to see the blend of old and new. A highly attractive woman asked if we wanted anything. We all opted for the restrooms after our long drive. When I got back, there was a coffee and tea station set up on an credenza under the TV.
“David,” Ms. Dixon said as she walked in.
She tried to shake my hand, but I gave her a hug instead. I grinned because I knew she wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of person. But she tolerated me. I was very thankful for what she’d done for me when Cal Bell had come after me.
I introduced her to Caryn. They’d spoken on the phone and instantly started talking to each other. While they got better acquainted, I made myself a cup of tea. They had a wide selection, and I finally settled on a cinnamon sage tea. To be honest, it smelled better than it tasted.
Once everyone had something to drink, Ms. Dixon got started.
“Caryn sent over the link to the registration website. After looking through the questions, I contacted outside counsel to help you through the process. Duane Morris, of Woodford and Morris, is one of the best sports attorneys in the country when it comes to dealing with amateurism status. Mr. Morris worked nearly twenty years for the NCAA, and supervised the group that reviewed cases that were flagged,” Ms. Dixon said.
There was a knock on the door, and an older black man with gray at his temples walked in. He looked around the room and spotted me, then walked up and shook my hand.
“David, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Ms. Dixon told me what a fine young man you are. If you’ll allow me, I would like to help you through the bureaucracy that is the NCAA.”
“Our in-house counsel read the application and had some concerns. That’s why we called Ms. Dixon,” Caryn said.
I liked the sound of that. Of course, I knew Kendal was a lawyer, but when Caryn put it that way, it sounded cool.
“I think you’ll have to thank her for doing that,” Mr. Morris said and then sat down across from me.
Introductions were made for my parents, and Mr. Morris got to it.
“Before we begin, I think it would help if you understood the process. The first step is to register with the NCAA Eligibility Center; you saw the form for that online. When you fill out the form, you must answer a number of sport-specific amateurism questions. These are designed to get a picture of your non-scholastic participation in various sports. The answers to those questions may or may not reveal a potential amateurism violation.
“The system automatically flags any questionnaire that has an answer that could be construed as a violation of the NCAA’s amateurism rules. When I worked for the NCAA, I supervised the case managers who handled flagged applications. I can guarantee you they will flag your application,” Mr. Morris said.
“How do you know that?” Dad asked.
“I called, and they already have a case manager assigned to David. We’re lucky it’s someone I used to work with.”
“Why would they already have someone assigned?” Dad asked.
Mr. Morris smiled.
“David isn’t the average recruit. He’ll be one of the top-ten-rated football players in the country. That alone would get him a case manager. Add to that he’s what we playfully called a ‘unicorn’: he makes his money doing something else. He only plays the game because he loves it. Because he has outside income, he doesn’t have to worry about the temptations of agents, boosters, and the like. Finally, he’s a high-level academic qualifier,” Mr. Morris said as he used his fingers to count off the four points.
“How did you know about my academics?” I asked.
“Your high school has been sending your transcripts to the NCAA. I expect they assumed you’d already signed up. My friend told me you’re a straight-‘A’ student.”
Mr. Morris waited to see if there were any other questions. When there weren’t, he continued.
“We know that David’s application will be flagged. Ninety percent are perfectly fine and sail through the process. They already know you made a movie and are aware of your modeling. Either of those would have kicked you out for review.
“What will happen is that once we fill out the application, you’ll receive a scary letter from the NCAA. My guess is that it will say that your status is either ‘Under Investigation’ or possibly ‘Preliminarily Certified with Conditions.’ If I were a betting man, which I am, I would predict the first one.
“At that point, we begin to answer any questions they might have. Our best approach is to both be prepared for what they might ask and answer any obvious questions right away. We want you to come across as 100 percent transparent and forthcoming. Trust me, we do not want to look like we’re hiding anything.
“Once we’ve answered all their questions, and both we and the NCAA are satisfied with your answers, the case is forwarded to the Academic and Membership Affairs staff. They will determine whether the facts presented constitute a violation. At that point, the answers can no longer be changed. That is, of course, unless new information becomes available that could not have been obtained earlier.
“Once they’re done, we should be good,” Mr. Morris said.
“Unless they find against you,” Ms. Dixon chimed in.
“Which they likely won’t, with me working the case,” Mr. Morris said with confidence.
“So, what’s next?” Dad asked.
“I need to interview David. It’ll probably take a couple of hours.”
“I think we should go shopping,” Ms. Dixon told my mom.
Of course, Mom agreed. Dad and Caryn stayed.
Mr. Morris wanted a chronological listing of my activities since freshman year. I pulled out my tablet, brought up the calendar, and began working my way through everything. Mr. Morris had a video camera and put it on a little tripod to record what I said. He didn’t interrupt me unless he needed to clarify something.
I only saw him wince a few times. Receiving a private plane ride to Lexington from a Florida booster wasn’t good. Getting a part in a movie on the recommendation of a known University of Kentucky booster was also a cringe-worthy moment. The final big one was my car.
“Okay, David. Off the top of my head, you’ll have to reimburse Mr. Rigby for the flight to Lexington. Do it as soon as possible and be sure to get a receipt,” Mr. Morris told Caryn.
He took in a deep breath.
“You should be good for the movie role. You ended up getting a much better role based on your talent. The key to it being an issue would have been if the role was given to you because of your athletic skills,” Mr. Morris said.
“A big reason David got the role was his athletic skills,” Dad said, which worried me.
“Sorry, let me clarify. When I refer to his athletic skills, I mean his football or baseball skills,” Mr. Morris said and looked at his notepad. “I see he has many athletic skills that don’t impact his amateurism. Those include skiing, snowboarding, waterboarding, parachuting, wing boarding, horseback riding, surfing, jet ski, motocross, four-wheeler, swimming, martial arts, fencing, zip line, and shooting. None of those skills are of concern.”
“Oh, I’m also taking classes for SCUBA diving,” I added.
“You’re what?” Dad asked.
“Oops, I thought I told you,” I admitted.
“You better let me tell your mom.”
Good plan.
“The last biggie is the car you received from Range Sports,” Mr. Morris said. “It was bad enough they gave you a car, but to paint it your school colors and put your number on it might get you into some serious hot water. I’ll need to work on that one. In the meantime, you must give the car back and pay the going lease rate for the time you used it.”