Bob Kravitz
The Indianapolis Star

According the website www.americancatholic.org -- no, I don't have it bookmarked -- the real St. Bonaventure was a man of substance, determination and intelligence, someone who overcame a terrible childhood illness and went on to become one of the most influential Franciscan theologians of the 13th Century.

He was not, in fact, the Patron Saint of Quitting Dog Athletes.

And no, smart guy, he wasn't French, although he did study liberal arts in Paris for a time.

The point is, if I'm a fan of St. Bonaventure (the saint, not the school), or I'm somehow related to St. Bonavenure (again, the saint, not the school), I'm not thrilled with the way a bunch of spoiled brat, no-account running-dog basketball players shamed me, my university and my good name.

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"When the going gets tough, we go to lunch." -- St. Bonaventure basketball team motto

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Everybody knows the story by now, right? Bad team. Had player with welding degree. Had to forfeit victories because of the welder. Was ruled ineligible for the Atlantic 10 Conference tournament. Chose to take its ball, go home and not bother playing the last two regular-season games of the season.

Everybody up to speed?

Good.

Now, there are a lot of greasy college basketball stories out there these days. (Notice it's always men's basketball, not the women's game). We've got the developing, but not shocking, allegations of academic fraud during Jerry Tarkanian's run at Fresno State. We've got the pay-for-play mess threatening to destroy the eternally grimy Jim Harrick and the Georgia program. We've got the continuing saga of Louisville's Marvin Stone.

And yet, the tale of the Bonnies' unconditional surrender, their gutless capitulation and the school's willingness to support that unconscionable decision, rivals any of those aforementioned fiascoes.

This wasn't merely dumb; it was disrespectful -- of the game, of the school, of the conference, and of all the programs that have fought through far greater adversity on the court and off to endure and then prosper.

Want to talk about real-life adversity? How about Evansville? One year after the Purple Aces air disaster, that program was back up and running.

All the Bonnies had to do was see how Michigan faced problems comparable to their very own. From day one, those players were told they would have to pay the penalties for things that happened nearly a decade ago. Their reaction? They didn't bemoan the unfairness of it all. They went out with a young team and nearly won the Big Ten.

I blame the players first; they were the ones who cried "I'm a pampered ballplayer, get me out of here!" More, though, I blame the head coach and school president, who should have stepped in, told the scholarship players to take a walk, and found 12 willing souls at the campus rec center to play those last two games.

How does the program repair the damage? It doesn't. This will hang over St. Bonaventure longer than any NCAA sanction. What's the new recruiting pitch? "We promise we'll finish out every season while you're here ... "

In many ways, the Bonnies broke new ground with their act of unconditional surrender. Ordinarily, we're used to a lesser form of quitting called tanking. Tennis players are famous for tanking matches, especially those who get huge appearance fees, then decide they have better things to do. Boxers tank all the time, entering the ring as designated opponents and leaving the ring on their backs. Roberto Duran, once the baddest man on the planet, said "No mas." Even now, it appears the Cleveland Cavaliers are tanking in the hope of landing LeBron James.

This, though, takes tanking to a higher artistic plain.

Or maybe lower.

I had hoped to reach St. Bonaventure (the saint, not the school) by summoning the help of one of those TV mystics who talk to people who've passed over. Sadly, The Star refused to let me put a seance on the expense report.

Still, I think I know how that brilliant, holy man would have reacted when asked about the school that bears his name:

"Saint who? Give me Arizona in the church pool."

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Bob Kravitz is a columnist for The Indianapolis Star. Contact him at 1-317-444-6643 or via e-mail at bob.kravitz@indystar.com