The University of Minnesota’s erstwhile wrestling coach is proving difficult to pin. The problem for J Robinson is that he can’t win on escape points.
As negotiations between Robinson and the U near an end, it’s difficult to envision a scenario in which the NCAA title-winning coach keeps the job he has held since 1986. The drug scandal that tore apart his team last semester, and the surfeit of bad publicity since, seems too much for any coach to survive.
On paid leave since June 1, Robinson’s quest to keep his job now appears to be a fight to leave with some vindication and a buyout from a school run by people who never liked him much in the first place.
Robinson, 70, has built one of the country’s best wrestling programs, with three NCAA championships and more than 120 All-America honors, but his iconoclastic — anachronistic? — rules of engagement are anathema on any college campus.
In 2001, the U investigated Robinson’s summer camp after complaints that he coerced campers to write letters to elected officials decrying Title IX, the law that requires equal opportunities for men and women at schools receiving federal funds. He was later reprimanded for using school resources to lobby against Title IX.
In 2004, Robinson filed a gender discrimination complaint against the U, claiming that decisions within the athletics department are made based solely on gender.
Surely, the egghead illuminati have had Robinson in their sights for years, and the drug scandal seemed the perfect out.
So why hasn’t he been fired?
A complaint filed through the U’s confidential EthicsPoint system on April 7 accuses Robinson of trying to protect as many as 11 wrestlers, who, according to a complainant claiming to be a team member, were buying, using and selling the prescription anti-anxiety drug Xanax.
An investigation by University of Minnesota police was forwarded to the Hennepin County attorney’s office, resulting in no legal charges. The school’s internal investigation, launched April 8, appears finished or very close to it. It will be released to the public only in the event of discipline, i.e. Robinson is fired.
During both investigations, Robinson’s personal rules of engagement — he refused to identify wrestlers who might have been involved and initially balked at talking to the U — remained a thorn in the school’s side.
According to the drug testing program, “possession or use of illicit drugs” and “distribution of drugs or intent to distribute drugs” by student-athletes could result in immediate suspension. Did Robinson know and/or hide that information to keep his wrestlers from being suspended or, worse, arrested?
You can bet that if the university could prove that, Robinson would have been fired by now. What’s left is a phalanx of attorneys for Robinson and the U wading through vague school policies and incomplete testimony, all taking place with a background of the U’s myriad issues in men’s athletics, from former athletics director Norwood Teague’s inglorious exit to the men’s basketball team’s March sex-video scandal.
Last winter, an internal audit hammered the athletics department for its lax control on spending, even as the Board of Regents approved deficit spending on the Athletes Village project. Robinson is owed roughly $150,000 over the next four years, a not inconsequential buyout in itself, and wants more.
And keep in mind, men’s basketball coach Richard Pitino’s tenuous job includes a buyout that could cost the school nearly $6 million.
In the world of Minnesota athletics, nothing is simple.