‘Help’ and ‘lol’: How KU basketball’s slap on the wrist was aided by murky language

The full ruling that dictated the future of the University of Kansas men’s basketball program, from a judgment of past actions, spans 162 pages.

In a summary intended as a media release, the Independent Accountability Resolution Process (IARP), an alternative to the NCAA peer-review procedure, trimmed its verdict to 11 sheets of paper.

Let’s boil it down to one sentence: Kansas came out of an investigation into its men’s basketball and football programs with nothing more than a paper cut.

What was once a case consisting of five Level I allegations — the most serious kind — became a Level II matter that concluded with a three-year probation and the acceptance of KU’s self-imposed penalties. A Final Four banner will have to come down. Some wins will be vacated.

But let’s be clear: A slap on the wrist would have left a bigger welt. There ought to be a celebration on Mass Street this week, because KU scored a bigger victory here than any single game this season could provide. A cloud that has hung over the program for six years was not indicative of a rainy day, but instead of the most severe punishment coach Bill Self would receive.

But you probably knew (or believed) that already.

The next questions, in that case, are simple:

Why?

How?

Well, KU did the unthinkable six years ago. As Oklahoma State put its arms behind its backs and said, “’cuff me,” Kansas flipped its middle fingers toward the NCAA and said, “Prove it.” The cooperative rule-breakers got a postseason ban. Kansas, on the other hand, banked that an independent review panel (IRP) within the IARP would require a higher burden of proof to connect some dots than NCAA enforcement was willing to connect.

That’s precisely why we’re here.

But how did Kansas leadership proclaim victory Wednesday in a case that originally accused Self and assistant coach Kurtis Townsend of being aware Adidas employees or representatives made impermissible contacts with recruits?

Ambiguous language, for starters.

As mentioned, the full ruling is quite lengthy, but it’s not without its highlights.

• According to evidence in a federal court case that the panel used, for example, Adidas consultant Thomas “T.J.” Gassnola texted Self to thank him for helping secure an extension between Adidas and Kansas. You’ve probably seen this exchange before, but as a reminder:

“In my mind, it’s KU, Bill Self. Everyone else fall into line. Too (expletive) bad. That’s what’s right for Adidas basketball. And I know I’m right. The more you win, have lottery picks and you happy. That’s how it should work in my mind,” Gassnola wrote.

Self replied by text, “That’s how ur (sic) works. At UNC and Duke.”

“I promise you I got this. I have never let you down. Except (Deandre Ayton),” Gassnola wrote, referring to the top-5 recruit who would become a No. 1 overall draft pick. “Lol. We will get it right.”

Upon its public release in 2018, you couldn’t help but wonder how KU would climb out. But the hearing panel determined the text message, “when placed in appropriate context,” should not have alerted Self that Gassnola had assisted Kansas in recruiting Ayton.

Why?

“... (Gassnola) punctuated the end of his text message with ‘lol,’ an abbreviation commonly understood to mean ‘laugh out loud.’ .. The hearing panel found (Self’s) testimony at the hearing credible when he described that (Gassnola) referred to never letting (Self) down except for (Ayton) in jest. (Self) emphasized that text message was a plainly understood inside joke.”

KU had previously made a similar argument in a public statement, also noting that Self didn’t reply to Gassnola. The NCAA enforcement staff didn’t buy it as a joke. The IRP panel, however, did. And apparently the “lol” helped sell that argument.

• Here’s another: The panel pointed to an email between Gassnola and an employee for Adidas, the apparel sponsor for KU. Gassnola, the panel says, informed the employee that he had returned from a visit with Self and the men’s basketball staff. “Talked recruiting targets and the upcoming season, assured them that we are here to help.”

To which the panel reacts: “The hearing panel finds there is insufficient information to interpret anything impermissible from use of the word ‘help’ in that email. The offer to help, in and of itself, is not akin to a request to recruit or engagement in recruiting services.”’

It feels like we’ve been locked in this discussion before, though with much different stakes: That depends on what the meaning of ‘is’ is.

Those last texts do not include members of KU’s staff. But other messages on a variety of topics using the same word — help — and some include Townsend as the sender. In all, the verb is referenced two dozen times in the 162-page ruling.

The NCAA read it as evidence of guilt.

But the IRP, which is comprised mostly of lawyers? We can’t be sure.

KU all but took a victory lap Wednesday afternoon, declaring its innocence in the aftermath of the IRP’s ruling. Much of the response is already about what did not happen — a postseason ban, a head coach suspension — but here’s one more thing the ruling is not:

An exoneration.

Rather, it is a declaration of a lack of sufficient evidence. KU demanded its day in court, insisted on something more similar to a jury trial, and the jury returned its verdict:

We aren’t convinced.

The phrase “credible and persuasive information” is used 43 times in the case decision, and most often, it’s a reference to what is missing. It does not conclude with KU’s innocence. It raises the bar for guilt and, unlike NCAA enforcement, concludes this case didn’t get there. That’s the standard of proof on which KU placed its bet six years ago, a laughable length of time for an NCAA case.

The final decision makes it apparent the lesson is not to tattle on yourself. Take on the fight.

The hearing panel operated with a different burden of proof and a different severity of punishment for the infractions. They insisted on being left without assumption. They refused to connect the dots.

That’s past tense. The IARP will disband at this case’s conclusion, a group that will be missed only by those fortunate enough to have the process decide their fate.

Their final act? A ruling that provided the odds-on favorite to win the NCAA national championship a little help.