No B.S.: A bad idea gone wrong

Perhaps you remember a summer night at the Wolvarena a couple of years ago when Sto-Rox High played a team from Ohio that showed up in the wrong jerseys, so both teams were wearing black; it was part of what was called the Western Pa. vs. Everyone Showcase.

More likely, you don’t remember it, and it might have stayed that way were it not for the galloping narcissism of one Roy Johnson, who at the time was running a chaotic football program/​vanity project at Bishop Sycamore High in Columbus.

As it happens, our awareness of that little sports wrinkle in time is about to get jarred thanks to a devastating HBO Sports documentary in which Oscar-winning directors Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe put Johnson in front of their cameras for most of two hours.

For Johnson, a failed walk-on at Ohio State and for a short time an intern with the New York Jets, it’s not exactly time well spent.

It’s a toss-up as to what is worse in this emotionally graphic illustration of where sports can lead people, the things Johnson says about himself (“lazy,” “arrogant,” “insecure”) or the things the filmmakers elicited from just about everyone in Johnson’s path going back to 2018.

The headline remains pretty much intact. Bishop Sycamore, which wound up playing some of the top high school teams in America, including Florida’s IMG Academy on ESPN, was not, um, a school. But that’s OK because Roy Johnson, in the words of one of his players herein, was “not a coach.” You won’t get five minutes into this thing without the distinct impression there was no Bishop either, or even any sycamores.

It’s notable that some very powerful entities chose not to comment for this documentary, which was produced in part by NFL Hall of Famer Michael Strahan. ESPN declined to speak to the filmmakers. IMG Academy declined to comment. Ohio Governor Mike DeWine, after the state issued a 79-page report trying to figure out how the Ohio High School Athletic Association (OHSAA) allowed a “high school” with no building, no teachers, no trainers, and not enough helmets to equip an entire football team, initially said he’d talk on camera, then demurred.

Prudent.

But Roy Johnson talked. And he talked and talked and talked, because Roy Johnson can’t not talk, particularly if by talking he can get himself closer to something akin to fame. If it’s the kind that’s closer to infamy, that doesn’t matter to Roy Johnson.

“My business philosophy is, ‘Do what people who have money do, even if you don’t have the money,” he tells HBO’s interviewers.

Asked if it was irresponsible to lure callow high schoolers of dubious abilities to Ohio to pose as Bishop Sycamore, Johnson says, “Yes.” Asked if he’d do it again, Johnson says, “Yes.”

The teenagers Johnson preyed upon to prop up Bishop Scamalot were poor Black kids with little structure in their lives, save for mostly misbegotten dreams of playing big-time college football. One explained that his father had been convicted of murder and football was the only place he could get male support and discipline. Said another, “Where I come from, opportunity don’t come around.”

What Roy Johnson sold them all, it appears, was a vision of his own twisted grandeur, that he, an inveterate Long Island hustler, would provide them an IMG Academy-type experience, with first-class facilities, classes, trainers, even opportunities for personal and spiritual growth, what with the whole Bishop thing, I guess.

None of that actually existed.

“I’ll say anything I need to say,” he says in the documentary HBO’s calling BS High (I see what ya did there), which debuts Aug. 23.

Ben Ferree, an official with the OHSAA who tried to blow the whistle on BS High for years, explained in a separate interview on the website Awful Announcing that the whole operation was just for Johnson to make money and possibly get some cache:

“He’d call up a powerhouse school in Maryland and say, ‘We’ll come play you but, golly gee, we are this struggling organization, so you need to pay us money to get there.’ And the school in Maryland will say no problem. Then all of a sudden there’s a lawsuit in Delaware County, Ohio, because Roy Johnson never paid the busing company. So where did the money go? Maybe it went to the hotels? Nope. There’s a lawsuit, he never paid the hotels. Maybe it went to the helmet manufacturers. Nope. There’s a lawsuit. Never paid them. So maybe it went to the banks where he took out the loans. Nope. There’s lawsuits. He never paid the banks. He just pockets the money.”

Anyway, while Johnson was triggering what HBO figures were more than 300 lawsuits, Sto-Rox beat Bishop Sycamore 19-7 that night, and IMG Academy beat ’em 58-0 two days later.

You heard me.

They played Sto-Rox on a Friday, then IMG Academy that Sunday, on ESPN.

Unsurprisingly, it was virtual carnage. There were no trainers for Bishop Sycamore, unless you count the quarterback’s mom, who was suddenly playing an athletic trainer on TV. The quarterback considered suicide when the whole thing fell apart and Johnson was fired.

You’d suspect that Johnson’s prospects today might be better had he declined to comment, but it’s doubtful he’d agree. It’s tough out there for a malignant narcissist/​serial fraudster, unless he wants to consider politics.

Gene Collier: gcollier@post-gazette.com and Twitter: @genecollier.