The damage that a protracted case involving Tressell -- the school won't even go before the NCAA committe on infractions until August, and that group won't rule until months after that -- isn't worth taking.

To review: Tressell made a mockery of one of the tenants of the NCAA. By not reporting obvious violations -- his players receiving impermissible benefits --  he subverted the very spirit of fair play that supposedly binds the NCAA member schools. The organization relies on self-reporting and, predictably enough, dislikes when that practice is proven publicly to be the sham that it is. Not only that, it has piles of evidence -- emails and phone records -- to support its case. So many of the flagrant violations you hear about, be it illegal payments or sweetheart summer jobs, can't ever be tried by the NCAA because they don't have access to bank records and the like. The group relishes hearing cases this air-tight.

According to the committee on infractions, Tressel contacted just about everybody other than his bosses at Ohio State or a representative at the NCAA when he found out that several of his players had traded memorabilia for cash and tattoos. Even through the dense language found in the notice of allegations, it's clear that the NCAA will focus on that element. It has charged  Tressel with unethical conduct. Few coaches have made it through such a charge. 

(By the way, you've gotta check out Ohio State's official announcement that it received a notice of allegations. The art -- a full Ohio Stadium, the lights illuminating a sea of red fans -- is all sorts of awkward. If only someone was dotting the 'i.')

This sort of controversy will significantly hinder the work of the football program, regardless of what's eventually discovered about Tressel's actions. He'll spend many hours meeting with his lawyers each week. They've got to craft a response to the NCAA's allegations before he can even think about preparing to take the committee's questioning in person (those sessions often last hours upon hours).

Meanwhile, members of the athletic department, university legal office and probably outside counsel will work to prepare the school's official response. They'll spend thousands of hours and well into six-figures to build a case.

Meanwhile,  media scrutiny will be intense. The Columbus Dispatch has already unleashed investigative reporters on the case. The paper has published multiple articles basically accusing the university of skirting open records laws as part of a continued cover up. Tressel won't hold another normal press conference this year. Questions will continue, both from local and national outlets.

Reporters (or at least this one) thrive while covering stories such as this. Disgruntled sources are the best kind, and you can be sure that there are going to be Ohio State alums and administrators who aren't fond of the way Tressel has besmirched the university. More than that, the Tressel is no longer untouchable. Those he's wronged in the past may now be able to come forward without fear of retribution. The whole thing is a mess.

There's more gray here than maybe it appears we're willing to admit. The chivalrous scholar-coach is a fallacy, anyway. And it'd be easy to argue that Tressel did what he thought was best for his players and thus fulfilled his No. 1 duty. At the Division I level -- especially in a powerhouse conference -- the coaches and players are engaged, most often, in an unsentimental business arrangement (which is why the players were so willing to part with what, to fans, seem like invaluable trinkets). Under those conditions, maybe Tressel did the noble thing in trying to protect his guys.

A few years ago I covered the demise of Kelvin Sampson at Indiana. As with Tressel, the NCAA eventually focused on the fact that Smapson had been less than honest (though he was also a repeat offender, making it worse). Like Ohio State, Indiana had originally backed Sampson and tried to sell the whole thing as a honest slip up. But within a few months it became clear that the university would have to try to save face by ditching Sampson -- who recruited well and had a top 25 team in his second season -- right in the middle of a promising season.  It collapsed. The Hoosiers are 28-66 since then -- easily the worst stretch in their storied history -- and the reputation of the program was badly damaged.

After the Sampson fiasco, the players he recruited to Indiana -- many from difficult circumstances -- dispersed. A few of them -- Eric Gordon and Jordan Crawford in particular -- turned out OK, but others scattered to smaller schools and failed to graduate.  Sampson had prided himself on finding kids with rough edges and helping them better their lives through basketball. That goal fell to the wayside because he'd done something silly -- reached out too often, and in illegal ways, to recruits -- and tried then to fib about it. I've always felt bad for those kids who lost that opportunity because of what Sampson did, and I've always told people that, ultimately, Kelvin Sampson meant well. He truly cared about his players.

None of that, though, should have ever factored into Indiana's decision about how to deal with him. Casual fans don't see that nuance, and the NCAA has legislated complicated thought out of how it does things. Sampson lied and worked outside the spirit of the governing body's rules. He was doomed from then on out, spending hours of his time dealing with NCAA matters instead of coaching.

Tressel may better be able to get away with missing chunks of time, as football programs don't tilt based on one man. A head coach's job is more management of the team and glad-handing of top recruits and money givers anyway.  So much of the actual teaching and scheming is done by position coaches.

Which is also why Ohio State should rid itself of Tressel now.  There are other coaches who can win at one of the nation's most prestigious football schools. And they might not even be liars -- or at least be better at not getting caught.