Friday column: He's selling, but I'm not buying

Ohio State head football coach Jim Tressel is all about character.

He preaches it to his players.

He talks about it in inspirational speeches.

He writes books about it.

In fact, he was on a book tour to promote his latest tome, Life Promises for Success: Promises from God on Achieving Your Best, when an unfortunate thing happened.

He was outed.

No, not outed like that; outed like this:

Remember when the NCAA busted five Buckeyes for selling Big 10 championship rings, shoes, jerseys and other memorabilia to the owner of a tattoo parlor? That was in December.

When the news broke, Tressel expressed disappointment in his players. He didn’t express surprise; what we didn’t know at the time was that he couldn’t have. Turns out Tressel had been tipped off to the violations in April.

He told the tipper, “I will get on it ASAP.”

Then he did ... nothing.

Didn’t tell his athletic director, didn’t tell his school president, didn’t tell the NCAA — a violation of his contract, by the way.

On Monday, Yahoo Sports broke the story about what Tressel knew and when he knew it. On Tuesday, an embarrassed Ohio State called Tressel back from his book tour so he could lie to the nation’s press.

Whoa! That’s harsh. Maybe Tressel really believes the self-justifying claptrap he offered to explain his failure to tell anyone that star quarterback Terrelle Pryor and four others were committing NCAA rule violations, and that those violations involved an alleged drug dealer.

Maybe he believes it.

I doubt it.

Tressel said he stayed silent because he didn’t want to “interfere with a federal investigation” into drug trafficking. By staying silent, Tressel said, he was trying to protect his players.

He was trying to protect his players, all right — or rather, protect their eligibility — and his chance to get to and win a lucrative BCS bowl game, which the Buckeyes did. Tressel thereby validated his commercial value; he and his program are worth millions upon millions to OSU, which pays him $3.5 million a year in return.

For their actions, the players were suspended for five games in the upcoming season. For covering up their actions, Tressel was suspended two games and fined $250,000, essentially a slap on the wrist.

Asked if he considered firing Tressel for this eminently fireable offense, E. Gordon Gee, the little man who is OSU president, attempted a little humor: “No, are you kidding? Let me be very clear. I’m just hoping the coach doesn’t dismiss me.”

HAHAHAHAHAH.

Actually, Gee’s tiny jest isn’t funny; it’s pathetic, and only too close to truth.

There is something amusing in all this, though — that’s Tressel’s attempt all these years to sell the idea he’s a different breed of Division I football coach.

I wish him luck with his latest book.