NCAA president Mark Emmert is having his enforcement division reviewed. (AP)

The NCAA announced Wednesday it "uncovered an issue of improper conduct within its enforcement program that occurred during the University of Miami investigation." While it's a startling specific admission, it isn't necessarily a surprise. This is, after all, just the latest enforcement gaffe.

So the Miami case is on hold while the NCAA, per order of president Mark Emmert, waits out an "external review of the enforcement program."

The NCAA should hire someone to perform an external review of its rulebook instead.

The core issue here isn't which policy or procedure was violated. It's that the NCAA keeps trying to enforce patently one-sided and illogical rules that are supposed to be able to stop the wheels of capitalism.

It doesn't work. It's never worked. It never will work.

Well, except for the NCAA, which conveniently enjoys a valuable tax dodge.

Boil down the Nevin Shapiro case and here's what happened: a wealthy fan of a university's athletic programs sent

Jack Harbaugh, the patriarch of the NFL's reigning first family, was in coaching trouble back in the mid-1990s; his Western Kentucky program was skidding through repeated losing seasons, and Jack's future was tenuous.

That's when his sons, John, then an assistant at the University of Cincinnati, and Jim, then a high-profile starting NFL quarterback, made it their unprecedented mission to moonlight and save him. 

John Harbaugh, left, and his brother, Jim Harbaugh, talk with their father, Jack. (AP)On Feb. 3 the brothers meet with a Super Bowl on the line – John's Baltimore Ravens against Jim's San Francisco 49ers. Not two decades ago they teamed up to help their dad and in the process built the foundation for a championship program – in this case at a lower-division college that neither even officially worked for at the time.

In 1994, WKU suffered its fourth losing season in five years under Jack Harbaugh. No one ever doubted Jack's ability to coach. He clearly needed better players, though.

Enter the Harbaugh brothers, both big-dreaming workaholics

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. – Within the NFL, even as much as Ray Lewis, the historic Baltimore Ravens' defense is known for the play of safety Ed Reed. Across 11 seasons there's been 61 interceptions, 110 pass deflections, nine Pro Bowls and an AP defensive player of the year honor.

He's considered one of the great ball hawks of all time, a brilliant return man and the smart, savvy leader that forces game plans to be built around him. There may not be a defensive player more revered in NFL film rooms over the last decade.

Ed Reed (R) celebrates with Ray Lewis after the Ravens' win over the Patriots on Sunday. (AP)And yet, until the Ravens vanquished New England on Sunday, 28-13, on the strength of a second half that featured two Tom Brady interceptions and zero Patriots points, the great Ed Reed had never made the Super Bowl.

That 2000 Ravens Super Bowl championship team, from which the franchise's tradition of vicious defensive play was born, featured Lewis but not Reed, who didn't arrive from the University of Miami until 2002.

So here was Reed, 34, on Sunday

Third time was the charm for Ray Lewis and Terrell Suggs who lost in two previous AFC title games. (EFE)

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. – There is a delicate balance with the Baltimore Ravens, be it on the field where they were mauling Tom Brady – or "12" as Terrell Suggs would only refer to him – or back in a wild celebratory locker room.

It's prideful and petty, powerful and humble, on the edge of controlled rage and on the brink of tears over how this wonderful playoff run has played out. It is a team, especially on defense, that has figured out how to channel it all, to play to an emotional cliff without losing control. It is a team, a linebacking crew, a locker room of Ray Lewis and Terrell Suggs, one a 37-year-old, just-hanging on legend who fashions himself a preacher, the other a 30-year-old in his prime juggernaut who doesn't mind playing a wrestling villain for laughs.

One couldn't get here – the Gillette scoreboard reading Ravens 28, Patriots 13 – without the other. And vice versa.

[Slideshow: Ravens upset Patriots to win AFC title]

It is a juxtaposition that has Lewis

John Harbaugh is moving on to the Super Bowl, much to Bill Belichick's chagrin on Sunday. (Reuters)

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. – John and Jim Harbaugh grew up around coaching. Playing. Watching. Coaching, moving around America every few years as their father, Jack, picked up assistant coaching jobs. They learned to splice film early. Knew the importance of game plans and motivation. And, like so many sons and daughters, decided eventually to get into the family business.

Now here comes the first brother vs. brother coaching matchup in Super Bowl history.

John's Baltimore Ravens dismantled New England 28-13 here Sunday night. Just hours earlier, Jim's San Francisco 49ers outlasted Atlanta 28-24. Their two teams will meet Feb. 3 in New Orleans for the NFL championship.

[Slideshow: Ravens top Pats to set up Harbaugh Bowl]

It will be the pinnacle for America's first coaching family. John is 15 months the elder and is a coaching lifer. Jim enjoyed a 15-year NFL career as a quarterback before becoming a head coach in the college ranks at the University of San Diego and Stanford. Joe Flacco threw three touchdowns in the AFC title game to help the Ravens reach the Super Bowl. (AP)

The story of Manti Te'o and his fake, dead girlfriend has been a spectacular soap opera, a real-time mystery and truth-stranger-than-fiction tale that turned the Notre Dame linebacker's personal life into a national punch line.

Manti Te'o admitted lying to his dad that he had actually met Lennay Kekua in person. (AP) It was never going to be as black and white as some wanted it though. Things rarely are.

Increasingly, the reasonable conclusion of exactly what (and how) this bizarre story unfolded is falling into a less nefarious, more humbling conclusion – the one that always seemed the most plausible, if also least thrilling, all along.

Manti Te'o insisted Friday to ESPN that he didn't help hatch the plan to create Lennay Kekua only to pretend she was the love of his life so he could tragically kill her off for publicity purposes that could propel him to a Heisman Trophy.

That was the way part of Deadspin.com's original report on the hoax framed Te'o's involvement, although that was mostly drawn from a single unnamed source who claimed he was "80 percent sure"

Across 90 minutes with Oprah Winfrey, Lance Armstrong did more than admit he cheated to win his seven Tour de France titles. He revealed a measure of the man that he is and this much is certain: If you never met this jerk, well, count your blessings.

Defiant, distant, difficult.

Arrogant, unaware, flippant.

Oh, Lance had a plan to try to look open and honest, and that was what was so obvious: It was a plan. It sounded rehearsed. But when he went off script, well, that's when he went off the rails.

He apologized, and that's worth something, worth a lot to those of us who aren't outraged anymore over doping in sports. But in doing so, in tuning into the Oprah Winfrey Network, you could only marvel at that personality on display, the same one that while we celebrated his victories was, behind the scenes, leaving a path of personal destruction in its wake.

This was a glimmer of the true Lance Armstrong coming out. No Nike commercial edits. No press conference sound

"Manti, describe your girlfriend to me."

I knew nothing about Lennay Kekua. Was she pretty? Smart? Funny? Blonde? Brunette? Did she like football? The only thing I thought I knew was that she had died, and that Manti Te'o, the best linebacker in college football and her boyfriend, had dominated a football game for Notre Dame a couple days later.

What I didn't know, and what Te'o apparently didn't know, either, is that Lennay Kekua wasn't pretty or smart or funny or blonde or brunette or a football fan or a far-too-young leukemia victim. She didn't exist.

That much came to light Wednesday courtesy of a Deadspin.com report. Te'o claims he became aware in December, and then says he realized he was the subject of a hoax after Notre Dame hired private investigators and computer forensic experts to figure out exactly who, or whom, Lennay Kekua was and why she pretended to die – and later come back to life.

The narrative whipsaw of a sad story turning into something