The armed services have an acronym for the double standard that exists between field-grade officers and enlisted people: R.H.I.P. -- rank has its privileges.

Such has also been the case in college athletics. But rank also has its disadvantages, and they have increased at an exponential rate since the simpler days of my youth.

Coaching has become a crucible, often white hot in intensity. It is an entirely different venture than it was years ago, and the recent spate of fiascoes involving highly visible coaches and universities is instructive to all who will pay attention.

My 48 years of football give me an unusual perspective on various debates about how and why things have changed. I strongly believe the reasons are terribly complex and very few understand the matrix that is reality for today's coaches.

	Agents of change
	While a book would be required to properly explore the agents of change, we can at least mention them here in hopes of offering perspective.
	Gambling is an epidemic problem on campus and in the training room.
	The pervasive nature of drugs and alcohol for all segments of society has had a powerful impact.
	Many call in radio shows and Internet chat rooms contribute to coaches' firing. Mostly they are places for the cowardly to vent their spleen without having to show their faces or give their names.
	The Civil Rights Movement and the Women's Movement have impacted everything -- not the least of which is coaching. With the added element of fairness and equal opportunity comes more intense scrutiny.
	The breakdown of the American family has drastically affected teen behavior. Coaches are now held accountable for behavior that was unknown in other generations.
	Some parents are now more motivated by the potential for NFL money than for their child to be educated.
	Player agents can be huge presences and major deterrents to team play. They can influence players to leave school before they should and serve as the connections to the gamblers.
	--Bill Curry

If there was reasonable understanding, even among the coaches, we would never be treated to the public spectacles we saw when George O'Leary was fired at Notre Dame for a falsified resume', when John Mackovic was confronted with a player rebellion at Arizona, when Mike Price was humiliated by a stripper at Alabama, or when Rick Neuheisel lost his job over a series of poor choices at Washington.

In the early '80s, I was an inexperienced head football coach at Georgia Tech. "This job can be fun, Bill!" said Bobby Dodd, the retired Hall of Famer and one of the greatest coaches of all time, who thought my 90-hour work weeks were excessive. He went on and on. "You are taking something that ought to be a great job and driving yourself into the ground. Shoot, I used to play tennis during the season!"

"I know, Coach, I was on your teams. But I'm not as smart as Bobby Dodd, and things have changed," I replied.

We talked about the early '60s when he spent most of practice with the sportswriters, literally dictating their stories to them for the next day. Needless to say, Tech and Dodd dominated the Atlanta sports pages. Coach Dodd had won big, saw 92 percent of his players graduate, and was light-years ahead of his time. Nevertheless, it was the only argument the great man ever conceded to me.

Forty years ago, with no professional sports, we were the only show in town and automatically packed Grant Field on Saturdays in the fall. Still, despite their popularity, coaches could play a little tennis right out in front of God and the alumni. They could have a few drinks, play some cards, hit the night spots, even have very private moments without a peep being uttered or a word printed in judgment. Lose football games and they were unceremoniously fired, but their personal life was sacrosanct.

Enforcement of NCAA rules was minimal, with "winking" as an art form. Coaches only turned one another in for such things as automobiles, television sets, and scholarships for girlfriends. Coach Dodd actually used team meetings to brief us on who was cheating, how they were doing it, and how he needed to turn them in. He said he hated doing it, and I believe he was sincere. There was a thinly disguised set of "Real Rules" that must have been established by the coaches, most of whom seemed to get along as long as they had a chance to win.

The few programs put on probation had to be caught in the act, hogtied, photographed, or have a disgruntled transfer student. As is always the case with competitive people, a few had to have an edge regardless of the consequences. For them, then as now, WINNING justified doing whatever was necessary, with no regard for education, the rule of law, or the morals of the students.

Any enterprising reporter could have uncovered all the above with minimum effort, but nothing was ever printed.

During this era, a veteran sportswriter once told me the story of an ambitious young editor who came to a big city paper with a reputation and a chip on his shoulder. At his first staff meeting he announced, "We are going after the Coach. I know what he has been up to and so do you. We are going to expose him, humiliate him, and bring him down for his despicable personal habits!" After a pause, from the back of the room came "Naw, we ain't." Guffaws followed as everyone glanced sidewise and the young editor reddened. One phone call was made. The subject never came up again. Never.

There is a documented 1963 story about an alleged phone call from Georgia's deposed coach Wally Butts to Bear Bryant before the Alabama-Georgia game that year. The Saturday Evening Post printed an article claiming that the call had been overheard, and that Butts had revealed privileged information about the Georgia team. Bryant took the matter to court, was exonerated, and the judgment he received literally put the magazine out of business.

The message was abundantly clear. If the guy can coach, leave him alone. If he can win big, you attack him at your peril. The rarefied atmosphere in which the established legends existed in that era was characterized by a kind of freedom the rest of us mortals can only guess at.

The good news is that most women and men who coach are doing the right things, and we ought to spend more time writing about them. Even better news is that this is a moment of truth for intercollegiate athletics. It is a time of great opportunity, and we have the kind of leadership that will take an aggressive, informed approach. It will not be easy in the crucible, but the upshot of all this will be an improved NCAA process with a clear message.

If you want to coach, be what you demand your players be. Know the rules and play by them. Do not make excuses. Be a winner in your personal life. Respect your student-athletes too much to let them down. Make a difference in young lives.

ESPN college football analyst Bill Curry coached for 17 years in the college ranks. His Game Plans for marquee matchups appear each week during the college football season.