The bomb finally goes off.

A tip of the hat and a nod of respect to Brett Vito of the Dallas Morning News/Denton Record-Chronicle, who reports with UNT documented evidence that 15 North Texas football players failed drug tests administered by the University between the end of September and mid-October.

This matters. This is a big deal.

But the big deal isn't about the players, either the ones who failed or the ones who passed. Even the ones who failed weren't doing anything that many (if not most) of their fellow college students have at least tried at some point during their enrollment in school.

When I say that, I don't mean to condone or endorse the Deplorable Practice of Using Narcotics (to paraphrase the brilliant Nathan Rabin). Personally, I don't even drink alcohol, so I'm not trying to excuse any illegal habits of my own. But I do think that there's an undeniable culture of hysteria and ignorant overreaction that dominates any and all discussion of drug use or abuse.

Like it or not, college is the time when a lot of young people experiment with things like this. Good or bad, that's the undeniable reality. But legal ramifications aside (and ethical analysis completely off the table, thank you very much), the decision to dabble in drug use is very clearly a violation of University and NCAA regulations.

Young people have a tendency to make some bad decisions. It's a part of becoming an adult in maturity and not just in age. But that maturity comes from learning the consequences of bad decisions.

Again, legality of the decision aside... Everyone on the team should have been aware that using any sort of illegal drug was a violation of team rules and would carry consequences.

So here's the $1,000,000 question:

What were the consequences for the players who failed the tests?

Part of the responsibility that falls on the people that run North Texas athletics is to ensure that these young men develop properly into grown men. Listen to any coach at any level of sports that is tied to an academic institution, and it won't take long before they mention their role in coaching their players in life, teaching them lessons off the field, and so forth.

Todd Dodge, in his weekly live radio show, talked earlier tonight about his biggest pitch to a recruit's family. I paraphrase here because I don't have a direct quote, but he spoke about putting recruits in the right kind of environment. His sales pitch to other parents is that he believes he can provide the best place for their son to mature and get an education. The sort of environment he wants for his own son.

Apparently, the environment in question is a hydroponic grow lab.


Remember that roughly one out of every five players on the team failed the drug tests cited in Vito's article.

What were the consequences for those players?

Since these tests were administered, one player has left the team by his own choosing. One player was benched for two games, but that may have been completely unrelated to the issue in question.

Nobody has been cut. Nobody has been suspended. Looking through the participation reports, nobody seems to have even lost any playing time.

THAT is the big deal. That is what matters. The lack of serious and direct consequences.

I'm not trying to scold the players who failed their tests. Making bad choices is a part of life. And making these specific types of choices is generally a part of the specific stage of life that they're currently in. It is practically inevitable that this sort of issue will pop up in this sort of environment.

The troubling thing is that, beyond the mandated drug counseling, no other punishment appears to have been applied.

The University of North Texas above all other schools should be exceptionally vigilant in trying to police and eliminate this sort of behavior. Just four years ago, the people in charge of North Texas athletics buried a young man who was making these same bad decisions. Andrew Smith made some bad choices involving a drug that's generally laughed about as harmless and risk-free, and he lost his life.

When a player in your program dies because of something, one would hope that the people in charge would be particularly vigilant in trying to prevent any possible recurrence.

Unless every single player that failed their drug test also happened to be injured, a redshirt, a walk-on, or a permanent fixture on the bench already, nothing appears to have been done.

The players aren't bad people. This team isn't any different than almost any other team in college football. This same sort of thing happens on teams from Florida to Washington and all places in between.

But here at North Texas, we've already seen a young man die because of this sort of mistake.

His death should be a permanent reminder that these sorts of mistakes should be handled directly, decisively, and immediately.

But apparently not.

Maybe next time.