The on-court statistics from the recent Division I men's basketball tournament were impressive. Nonetheless, there's a sour aftertaste to what's popularly termed "March Madness" because off-court statistics have been depressing.

Athlete graduation rates among top programs in men's basketball (and football) are dismal. In many programs, fewer than half the recruited athletes receive a degree within the six-year period considered normal for traditional college students. Often they are left with very little preparation for a future beyond athletics. It is no wonder that many of these athletes end up feeling exploited, so much so that some are demanding that they be paid for their labors on the field and on the court. Moreover, the many scandals we have endured over the past 18 months show what can happen when highly recruited athletes are brought in with little connection to the intellectual and community life of the university, inadequate supervision and a distorted sense of privilege.

There certainly are plenty of temptations to be part of March Madness. A school that reaches the Sweet Sixteen is likely to be featured in many stories, some on a national scale. The coverage can extend beyond the team to some of the unique characteristics of the institution itself. Even a president who thinks a pick-and-roll is a fancy deli sandwich can suddenly get very interested in basketball when the national media come calling.

Of course Gonzaga is a fine school with much to offer. Students do not choose to go there simply because of its success in basketball. But the extensive exposure it has received because of basketball has made many more potential students aware of its attractions, with obvious benefits to the school.

Even well-established institutions have leveraged successful sports programs to intensify interest among potential students, resulting in more selective admissions, and enhanced rankings and reputations. Notable examples are Georgetown, Duke, Boston College, Notre Dame and Southern California. A winning team, especially one with national visibility, can increase interest, loyalty and commitment among current students, alumni and other important constituencies. It is no wonder that many presidents, trustees and other campus leaders see intercollegiate sports as a tool for institutional advancement, no matter what their personal feelings about them are.

As a consequence, many college athletes are unprepared, uninterested and uncomfortable in the classroom and exist in a culture that tolerates and even fosters boorish, destructive and illegal behavior. Many presidents, uncomfortable though they may be with this state of affairs, turn a blind eye on the situation in hopes that it will not blow up and embarrass them and their institutions. They are convinced, often by the urging of their coaches and fans, that adhering too strictly to standards will cost them their competitive edge and all the strategic advantages that go with it.

Presidents will get the problem under control only by taking action together, in ways that go beyond the rather modest proposals now before the NCAA. They need to set admissions standards to ensure that any athlete admitted is equipped to become a successful student; and they need to set and enforce high expectations for athletes as students and as members of the community. This seems simple enough, but evidently it is not happening.

Admittedly, Patriot League schools are not typical Division I schools. They are among the smallest in Division I and are more selective and demanding academically than all but a few of their Division I brethren. Nevertheless, they are an example of how Division I-level athletics can be done in ways that do not do violence to the ideals of academic integrity and community responsibility that all of us espouse.

Michael C. McFarland is president at College of the Holy Cross.