Michael Ventre

Student-athlete graft is probably as old as sports themselves. I’m sure back in the 1920s, for instance, when State wanted to lure a swivel-hipped running back away from Tech, the suitors would introduce him to flappers, slip him a flask, buy him a fur coat, take him to a speakeasy and chant, “Boo-lah! “Boo-lah!” all the way home.

Times have changed. Now no self-respecting kid without a conscience would think about selling himself for less than five figures, a car and a living space the size of the Palace of Versailles.

The latest individual to run afoul of NCAA rules — allegedly — is O.J. Mayo, who spent just enough time on USC’s campus to figure out where Tommy Trojan is located. Mayo went directly from high school to the NBA, stopping in college just long enough to satisfy a sham rule that requires one year of undergraduate “studies” before accepting a paycheck.

The trouble, of course, is that Mayo is being accused of having put himself on a payroll before the Association got a chance to embrace him. A disgruntled former Mayo insider told ESPN that Mayo accepted cash and gifts from Rodney Guillory, a 43-year-old event promoter who was connected to the Northern California sports agency Bill Duffy Associates.

Basically, this smells. If the allegations are true, it means Mayo has paired with Reggie Bush to put USC in a class by itself when it comes to brewing scandals. Like USC supporters are quick to point out about the program, everybody else is playing catch-up.

Yet the real culprits are the players themselves.

There have been calls in some quarters to throw the book at the Trojans, which may be imbecilic or astute depending on what transpires in the coming months. But those cries are definitely knee-jerk in variety, because unless institutional involvement is proved, there is nothing the NCAA can do to the school in either the Bush or Mayo cases.

And proving institutional involvement is challenging. In the Bush case, did any of the coaches know he and his parents accepted money while he played for the Trojans? Only through depositions and testimony in the pending civil case can the NCAA gather ammunition — since Bush isn’t cooperating with its own investigation — and even then it may not be conclusive enough to nail USC.

Did USC’s basketball coaches know Mayo was on the take? Perhaps, but that’s tough to prove. And for those who think that even if USC didn’t know, it should have, what is a coach supposed to do? Demand entry into a player’s apartment and say, “Let me see the receipt for that flat screen”? Believe me, if I’m O.J. Mayo and I want to take money and gifts and keep the details away from the coaches and the administration, I can find a way.

Although there certainly are steps coaches and administrators can take to keep their programs clean, the real blame falls on the players themselves. They’re not kids, even though that’s a term used often in the parlance of college sports. They’re young men who should know better.

And if Mayo and Bush — and for that matter, any other player at any other school — took money in violation of NCAA rules, they are not worthy of anyone’s admiration, no matter how well they can shoot from outside or scamper upfield.

When I was growing up, my sports life wasn’t ruled by ESPN. There were no bloggers. There weren’t nearly as many televised games. And if a youngster showed promise in a sport, he wasn’t besieged by agents and shoe company reps.

Today’s young high-school student is much sharper than his counterparts of generations past. He knows all the angles about recruiting. He knows which coach might leave for a pro job, which offense is best suited to his talents, which program offers the most direct path to the NBA or NFL or Major League Baseball, which schools have the best-looking women, which cities have the best strip clubs and restaurants, and so on.