On his trip here this week, NCAA president Myles Brand confirmed what most rational college sports fans had long suspected: it is okay to come to college and major in football.

The former University of Indiana president who, by the way, fired Bob Knight, didn't come out directly and announce this new major. But he certainly inferred it.

First, some background. Pundits praised the appointment of Brand to lead the NCAA because they saw it as a move that would stimulate athletic reform. More directly, they thought he would see sports through the eyes of a university president and logically decide it had gotten way out of control.

Pundits, as is often the case, were thinking optimistically, idealistically. The real reason Brand was hired is because he believes fully in the charade the NCAA has been pulling for the better part of a century. His presence merely allows the NCAA to pretend that it cares about academics as much as it should for big-time sports.

Dr. Brand preached the familiar refrain about professionalism destroying college sports, at least partially blaming the media for covering college sports as if it were pro sports.

So my question went like this: Brand, there is a player here named Alan Zemaitis who earlier this year told the media that football players come to Penn State to play football, not to go to school. Another player once told me that the goal of all 85 players on scholarship at Penn State is to play professional football. Shouldn't they be at least partly to blame for this aura of professionalism?

His response was a rhetorical question: Do you have friends who came here just to get a job? Or friends who came here just to have a good time?

The answer to both of these questions, of course, is yes.

My freshman year was filled with kids who just wanted to have fun. Some matured and made it. Others did not.

Those who made it finally decided that they did indeed come to Penn State to get a job. The few steps in between go like this: take classes that teach theories and skills related to job, take general education classes, grow up a bit along the way, get the piece of paper, get paid.

Those friends spend a large sum of money to do this and are more often than not treated by this school as nothing more than a number.

In high school, they studied hard enough to get a 3.2 or 3.8 GPA, then filled out an application and waited to be accepted.

They do not have special tutors, eat gourmet food, have guaranteed housing in Nittany Apartments or receive a store-full of Nike clothing.

They are not football players. They go to class because they want to learn and, yes, Dr. Brand, because they want to get a job. Most of them are involved in extra-curricular activities or have jobs that may help them start a career.

Meanwhile, a wide receiver recruit from Florida walks across the shoveled path at Beaver Stadium and stares at the uncovered bronze statue of Joe Paterno. He is wooed with promises of tutors, steaks, apartments and Swooshes.

He will come to Penn State to train for a job as a football player. His free education, the supposed payment for the money he earns Penn State, will become a fall back he has neither the time nor motivation to concentrate on. The way the school treats him will make him well aware of how important football is.

Athletics, for him, will not enhance education, as Brand claims it will. His goal will be to train for a football career and along the way maybe pick up an education.

When looked at this way, this "student-athlete" model seems amiable. It keeps everyone happy.

Yet, there is still one nagging question: Why have institutions of higher learning embraced the idea of becoming the minor leagues for basketball and football?

Maybe it's money. Maybe it's exposure. Maybe it's the human need to succeed in competition.

No matter what, it's okay with the NCAA.

Come now, athletes with high hopes, to Penn State University and Football Training Facility.

You use us, we'll use you. Everybody will be happy.