Contrary to my assertion last Saturday, the N.C.A.A. does allow college athletes to engage a lawyer if they are accused of violating its rules. After hearing from the N.C.A.A., I made a few phone calls and discovered that, indeed, universities investigating improprieties by athletes do usually inform them that they can hire a lawyer.

In the course of those calls, however, I stumbled on a case so egregious — yet so perfectly illustrative of the N.C.A.A.’s judicial “process” — that I concluded it needed wider exposure. Last week, I described the N.C.A.A. as a cartel. Turns out, it’s a Star Chamber, too.

Meet Devon Ramsay, a fullback at the University of North Carolina, and once a big-time pro prospect. He is also a good student and “a fine citizen,” according to a former coach, John Shoop, “the kind of person this university should be proud of.”

In the summer of 2010, a scandal befell the football team, when it was discovered that some players had attended a party that appeared to be thrown by sports agents trying to curry favor with them. (The N.C.A.A. forbids athletes from accepting gifts from agents.) North Carolina’s ensuing investigation led it to several instances of supposed “academic fraud,” including a paper Ramsay had written two years earlier.

After practice one day early in the 2010 season, Ramsay was brought in for questioning by North Carolina officials and confronted with e-mails between himself and a university athletic tutor. The e-mails showed that she had made a series of minor suggestions to improve a three-page sociology paper. The university’s Honor Court would later conclude that the tutoring was so within the bounds of normalcy that it declined to hear a case against Ramsay.

The N.C.A.A., however, came to a rather different conclusion. After being shown the e-mail “evidence” by North Carolina officials, it told the school that Ramsay was guilty of academic fraud. Fearing that the N.C.A.A. would punish the university if it continued to play Ramsay, North Carolina declared him ineligible. When it then asked the N.C.A.A. to restore his eligibility — as it must do to get a player back on the field — the N.C.A.A. refused. Thus, without so much as a hearing, much less any due process, Ramsay’s college career appeared to be over, along with his hope of one day playing pro football.

Belatedly, Ramsay found a lawyer, Robert Orr, a former State Supreme Court judge. Or rather, Orr found him after reading an article in which his mother expressed her anger and bewilderment at what had happened to her son. A date had been set to appeal the N.C.A.A.’s decision, and university officials were pressuring Ramsay to admit wrongdoing. Such an admission, they said, was needed to sway the N.C.A.A.

Orr said no; his client had done nothing wrong. The appeal was canceled. Instead, Orr led an effort to convince the N.C.A.A. that the university had uncovered “new evidence,” starting with the fact that no one knew whether Ramsay ever submitted the paper with the tutor’s changes. The N.C.A.A. restored Ramsay’s eligibility — after the season had ended — without ever admitting its own culpability. It was a face-saving ploy.

I wish this story had a happy ending, but, so far, it doesn’t. In the first game of his senior season, Ramsay suffered a terrible knee injury. Earlier this week — after learning this column was in the works — the N.C.A.A. agreed to grant him an extra year of eligibility, so he can show pro scouts he can still play. In the interim, however, North Carolina hired a new football coach who doesn’t use fullbacks in his offense.

“I wish all the players had gotten a lawyer immediately,” says Ramsay’s mother, Sharon Lee. “Everyone needed someone to look out for their interests.” But these athletes are still kids, often naïve and overly trusting of their school. At the point at which Ramsay was told he could have a lawyer, he didn’t even know what the accusation was; once he found out, he assumed it would quickly blow over because it was so insignificant. By the time he realized he needed a lawyer, it was far too late.

Whether he plays professional football or not, his mother says, for the rest of his life, “Devon is going to have to answer questions about his ethics. The N.C.A.A. has done far more damage to my son than just deprive him of the chance to play football games.”

I know there are readers who believe I am wasting valuable space writing about sports. I got e-mails to that effect after last week’s column. To my mind, though, the fact that the N.C.A.A. is willing to destroy an athlete’s career without even a nod to a fundamental right like due process is simply wrong. It needs to change. That is why I will continue writing about this subject, as events warrant, in the coming months.