Read the following rationale regarding an NCAA membership decision about playing and practice seasons in football:

"The additional game has the potential for increased revenue at a time when the prospect for our programs is so very critical. And because this is permissive legislation, schools may play the additional game, but they certainly don't need to if they don't wish to. Also, I don't believe there is a valid academic argument against it. ... Many feel that where there is early scheduling it has led to open dates in midseason, and increasing the number of games is much better than an open date and certainly does not require any additional practice time. Finally, in answer to the argument that this would be too great a burden on players and coaches, I would point out that about one-fifth of the major college teams are annually playing the additional game in bowl competition."

Sound familiar? Ironically, that is the supporting logic from the 1970 NCAA Convention Proceedings regarding the Association's decision to add an 11th game in football. Had the publication not cited those words as being from then-Western Athletic Conference Commissioner Wiles Hallock, readers might assume they had been spoken at the April 2005 Division I Board of Directors meeting when the presidents voted to allow I-A schools to play a 12th game.

While the two rationales 35 years apart are nearly identical, there is one significant difference. In 1970, reaction to the decision from the general public and media was matter-of-fact; today, columnists and commentators from almost every major newspaper and sports radio program have aired their opinions, many of which decry the decision as a first-order hypocrisy that will lead to the downfall of academic reform.

The press is, of course, entitled to its opinion, and many who make their livelihoods opining about athletics are fighting a competitive battle to ensure they are heard. Unlike 1970, we now live in an era of "rant radio" commentators and columnists who are fighting for the attention of the general public. That puts the NCAA in a high-visibility position when it makes decisions that can be debated in the public arena.

But as was the case in 1970, there was not much of a debate about the additional game within the NCAA membership. There were no rejoinders to Commissioner Hallock's motion and rationale on the 1970 Convention floor, and two-thirds of the delegates (the NCAA operated under the one-school/one-vote form of governance at that time) voted their support. In 2005, during the 12th-game proposal's 10-month trek through the Division I legislative cycle, it was not highly debated in subcommittees or at the cabinet and Management Council levels -- only the Board spent significant time discussing it. And even the Board's debate focused primarily on how the matter would be received publicly and by the press. The rationale for the proposal -- that it provided temporary relief to budgetary pressures; that it would be accommodated through what otherwise would have been a bye week; and that there was no evidence to suggest academic ill effects -- was not a point of contention.

Nor was it in 1970. What we experienced in 2005 was a relatively straightforward membership decision being exaggerated in the press. Most commentators, in fact, were concerned that the 12th game made it impossible, or at least difficult, to have a Division I-A playoff. That is not the case, of course. The Board could always vote to eliminate the 12th game or conference championships to facilitate a playoff -- if in fact a playoff is what presidents wanted. To date, they have not. The media coverage in this case is an example of the press substituting its own desires and goals for those of university presidents.

The NCAA is a democratic organization -- we decide our approaches by votes; and in the case of Division I, it is a representative democracy. While decision-makers in the NCAA governance structure always should be cognizant of public and media opinion, at the same time we have to understand that these are our decisions made by our universities -- our Association. While it may become clear through the course of public debate that a pending decision may in fact be unpopular, that should not be a deterrent if we believe the action is the right one to take.

Athletics directors and commissioners by and large favored the 12th game as an additional source of revenue. For many institutions, the impact will be about $200,000, and for a few it will mean as much as $5 million. And it will affect the schools only in the years during which there would not normally be a 12th game.

I would understand if the media misinterpreted the motive for the 12th game as a long-term fiscal fix, but I would be disappointed if athletics administrators saw it as anything but a short-term salve. I believe most administrators and presidents understand that the decision is not a panacea for fiscal responsibility. If they think otherwise, they are underestimating the nature and depth of the financial problems facing intercollegiate athletics.

As I have said recently, the problem with budgets in athletics departments is that their rate of increase is higher than that of institutional budgets and cannot be sustained. This causes athletics directors to continually search for new and expanded revenue sources just to make those budgets, whether they are being subsidized by the university or not. The 12th game is a one-time increase in the base budget and does not solve the continuing problem of having to meet high rates of increases every year. It might keep the devil at the door for another year or two, but every athletics department will be right back in the same fix again in the near future.

Neither is the 12th game a concession to the pursuit of greedy profit, as some columnists have accused. Rather, Division I-A programs will need the money just to make ends meet so long as expenses continue to rise at a disproportionate rate. The best answer is to moderate the rate of expenditures growth, and the 12th game simply does not address that. The newly established Presidential Task Force on the Future of Division I Intercollegiate Athletics, which meets for the first time this month, will tackle fiscal responsibility in a serious way. I anticipate the group chaired by University of Arizona President Peter Likins will be able to provide good guidance in that regard.

As for the 12th-game decision, one of the lessons learned is that on occasion, the NCAA is going to pass legislation that for whatever reason the critics are going to dispute, and the decision-makers are going to have to provide the context for their actions early in the debate. We have to be fully aware of the environment in which we now operate and do a better job of communicating the decisions. But the expected reaction, while always a factor in our decision-making, should never be the controlling factor.

The 12th game certainly was not the momentous decision many in the press purported it to be. In the end, the truth of the matter is that we are talking about only seven additional games per university over a decade. That will not be a determining factor in whether student-athletes succeed academically while playing football, nor will it help athletics departments better balance their budgets over time.

When the facts are put in context and emotional rhetoric is removed, an additional regular-season game does not add up to either the type of ills ascribed by some or the financial windfall hoped for by others.

That was the case 35 years ago, and it is the same case today. That does not mean, however, that in 2040 the NCAA will be considering a 13th game. We will need to have our financial houses in order far sooner than that.

Myles Brand is president of the NCAA.