Braxston Banks had always dreamed of a job in professional football. But not like this.
Not sitting at a desk, going near a field only to talk with NFL players instead of dragging them along for extra yardage.
Braxston Banks had always dreamed of a job in professional football. But not like this.
Not sitting at a desk, going near a field only to talk with NFL players instead of dragging them along for extra yardage.
Banks, 6 feet 3 and 215 pounds, dreamed of becoming a bruising NFL fullback before scouts armed with stopwatches and harsh opinions decided he wasn't good enough.
The Supreme Court wasn't much help, either.
So the former Notre Dame athlete turned to his own version of Plan B. He graduated from college and accepted a job with the NFL Players Assn. as an assistant to Gene Upshaw, executive director.
Banks acknowledges he would much rather have one of those Sunday jobs, the kind that pays big money for moving the football a short distance.
"But at least I (have) my degree and I can move on," said Banks, 25. "Life goes on. I'm going on. I'll be OK."
Still, there are regrets, decisions that Banks and others will always second-guess.
Specifically, his 1990 decision to declare for the NFL draft.
He immediately lost his NCAA eligibility, then went undrafted when scouts said he was too slow. Notre Dame could have pulled his scholarship for his final semester but didn't, although that policy varies from school to school.
Banks filed a lawsuit against the NCAA to regain his eligibility, claiming a violation of antitrust laws. It was thrown out.
He tried to get the Supreme Court to hear his case. In May, it said it wouldn't.
And so the football dream ended unfulfilled, with lingering regrets, a feeling of emptiness and a useless pair of cleats.
Ron Maestri, University of New Orleans athletic director, knows the Braxston Banks story chapter and verse. He even added to it.
"Lou Holtz (Notre Dame coach), didn't know whether he was going to have (Banks) for his senior year," Maestri said. "It really left the institution, the coach and everyone up in the air."
Maestri also knows about Brad Gaines and Octavius Gould, two other successful college players who left school early, only to go undrafted.
And he's familiar with former Nevada Las Vegas guard Anderson Hunt, who declared for the 1991 NBA draft, then was bypassed.
In the last four years, more than 46%--76 of 165--of athletes declaring early for the NFL draft have gone undrafted, though many marginal players have put their names in as a joke.
Sixty-seven of 184 undergraduates (36%) have gone undrafted in the NBA since 1976, showing that Hunt is not an anomaly.
For every Drew Bledsoe or Chris Webber, there is a Banks or Hunt, an athlete serious about his pro chances who fails to get drafted and is unable to return to school on scholarship.
That is why Maestri is so concerned.
"We feel (the decision to turn pro) is very important for the student-athlete," said Maestri, a former college baseball coach. "We want to make sure that we can protect them."
Maestri, chairman of the NCAA's Professional Sports Liaison Committee, said that an athlete's declaration for a draft should not end his eligibility.
With that in mind, the liaison committee will meet Monday in Kansas City, Mo., to complete a proposal that--if passed at an NCAA convention--would give the next generation of college athletes new options.
In football, the proposal would permit athletes to declare for the draft, assess their worth by contacting various teams, then back out if they decide that their draft prospects are poor.
"Before, once you applied for a draft, you were dead," Maestri said.
A basketball player would enjoy even more latitude. He could declare for the NBA draft and still return to school on scholarship if he was dissatisfied with the result, using what Maestri called a "window of opportunity."
"It's a dramatic proposal," Maestri said. "This gives kids the opportunity to test their worth. It might take some pressure off a kid (and) give them a period of time where they can test the waters."
The so-called test-the-waters issue has been talked about before, but the NCAA rule has remained: Once a player declares for a draft in basketball or football, he immediately relinquishes
college eligibility in that sport.
As Banks' former attorney, Alan Morrison, put it: "You put your foot in the water, and your foot gets burned off."
Morrison, who argued Banks' case \o7 pro bono\f7 , said that NCAA rules "force most of the kids to stay in school, which is obviously in (the NCAA's) best interest."
The liaison committee's proposal would change the rules.
The committee supported a 1990 rule change--known then as Proposal 47--that would have allowed college baseball and hockey players more latitude to negotiate with professional organizations.
Last year, the committee recommended legislation giving NCAA institutions more leeway in paying an athlete's medical expenses.
The current proposal--if passed it would cover all 895 NCAA institutions--includes the following stipulations: