SDSU should be more upfront about alleged gang rape
How can San Diego State students, parents, alumni and others find faith in the university’s handling of an alleged gang rape involving former Aztecs football players when no one seems willing to answer basic questions?
Refusing to address simple facts after the police closed the case shakes confidence in potentially irreparable ways.
When Athletic Director J.D. Wicker boomeranged back to a news conference Monday, after he and football coach Brady Hoke both cited an ongoing university investigation as a shield against responding to questions before walking out, the pivot emphasized a better-late-than-never acknowledgment of that critical and fragile trust.
“It is absolutely not true that we swept this under the rug because it is football and because we were having a successful season,” Wicker said. “That is not who we are. That is not who I am. That calls into question my morals and my ethics and, no, that’s not true.”
The moment was stunning, given the wholesale change of direction from mere minutes earlier.
The first lap was a public-relations catastrophe, to be clear. Reading statements without fielding questions constituted eyewash, the word those in baseball clubhouses use to describe fake hustle and effort. Give the impression something is being done to illustrate transparency, without saying anything of substance at all.
Wicker, in the first part of the conference, chose not to answer a basic question about university policy related to athlete participation during a police investigation — something that absolutely merits a response. Is there a policy? If not, why not?
Over and again, an athletic communications representative tried in vain to steer questions to the team’s Saturday season-opener against Arizona and the debut of $310 million Snapdragon Stadium. The message became, “Hey, we sort of addressed this ugly off-the-field thing, so let’s get back to football!”
This is not going away. Nor should it. Shifting back to a game as allegations of a heinous crime swirl, while barely tapping the brakes, is absurd. How does the program and department attempt to mute the conversation about what happened when the bedrock integrity of both has come under question?
“One of our pillars (of the department) is to create great human beings, and …,” said Wicker, trailing off for a full seven seconds as he got emotional. “It’s hard when the training you provide may not have been enough.”
The community, stretching well beyond San Diego State’s campus, deserves facts displayed in the light of day, not Pr-washed, lawyered-up language carefully crafted around non-answers.
The police investigation is closed. More than 10 months have passed. What damage could a discussion of verifiable facts do to the university’s investigation, given that it would require a team of bloodhounds to find a person who is unaware of the national story?
The time for San Diego State to provide answers is now.
Hoke wandered off script to vow he in no way has been or would be a rug-sweeper in something like this.
“I’m a husband and I’m a father and deeply respect, believe me, and appreciate the women in my life,” Hoke said. “I can guarantee you it’s intolerable, what has been reported. There’s no protecting anyone. We’re not here to do that. And that’s part of being accountable.
“There’s no … code of silence. We won’t compromise on that. We hold will hold ourselves and our (football) community and our players to the highest standard.”
There are miles more questions to be tackled, though, about when the football program knew about the alleged rape at an off-campus party last October and the names of players who were under investigation by police.
A Los Angeles Times story reported at least one SDSU student-athlete mentioned All-america punter Matt Araiza’s possible involvement Oct. 26 through an anonymous campus reporting system.
And Wicker, in his second lap Monday, confirmed that speaker Brenda Tracy, a gang-rape survivor, spoke to the football team and others last November “related to an incident that had been reported to us that SDPD was investigating.”
Tracy’s response to recent events, Sunday on Twitter, was telling.
“Was I being manipulated? I don’t know,” Tracy wrote. “Was I there for PR purposes? I don’t know. Was I brought in to help their athletes? I believe so. Was I there because leaders were being reactive? Yes. You can’t deny the timing of events.
“… As I read more and more of the details of this case, it is becoming obvious SDSU did not do the right thing. Institutions should not defer to police investigations. Title IX and criminal cases can run concurrently. They are separate processes and the school’s obligation is to prioritize student safety.”
There can be fair arguments about protecting the police investigation and whether the party unfolding at an off-campus site should matter in any way. There’s no doubt, however, that Tracy’s experience with scores of these situations has national reach.
Is it believable that the reporting-system tip or information precipitating Tracy’s visit did not lead the athletic department to ask questions about what happened and who was involved? Was no one in an athletic leadership position aware of a now-deleted Twitter account spelling out Araiza’s alleged involvement?
There’s not knowing. And there’s not wanting to know. If the latter proves true, the gymnastics to achieve plausible deniability would be sickening.
What’s undeniable: There was too much campus smoke for those directly impacted not to ask whether something indeed was burning.
So, did they?