Special Report

GAINESVILLE, Fla. — Welcome back to the top, Gators.

Your campus neighbors wondered when you'd rejoin them.

The 6,400 students and 288 faculty at the University of Florida College of Engineering toil in the literal and figurative shadows of Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, home to the 2006 BCS national football champions.

Instrument specialist Kerry Siebein examines rows of atoms at 1.7 angstroms — or 1.7 ten-millionths of a meter — in a specially configured room in the materials science department set to 66 degrees. Even the sound of her voice can disturb the images on the transmission electron microscope, one of a handful in the country.

“You do not want to be doing this on game days,” she says.

Next door, junior Josh McNally perfects an open-wheel, open-cockpit racecar that goes from 0 to 60 mph in 3.8 seconds and corners at 2 G's of gravity. Members of Gator Motorsports, Florida's Society of Automotive Engineers team, hope to bring home another trophy at their next race in Detroit later this year.

Despite the headline-grabbing football team next door, the engineers found a tongue-in-cheek means to boast their own triumphs.

They produced blue and orange T-shirts that read, “Hey Florida football, welcome back to the spotlight” on the front, and the back boasts their 14 national and international engineering championships in the 10 years since the Gators won their last football title. And the Florida engineering motto: “More bite.”

Despite the playful repartee, the school's academic and athletics representatives say they don't view each other as adversaries.

Rather, each finds means of cooperation to piggyback the success of the other. Indeed, the University of Florida's athletics department voluntarily donates more to academics than any other school in the Southeastern Conference, parlaying athletics opportunities — primarily football — to share national notoriety.

Sometimes, they trek 4,100 miles to do it.

A research champ looms

In a September survey from the Milken Institute, the nonprofit economic think tank ranked Florida fifth nationally for technology transfer, or how schools turn research into commercial applications.

Florida trailed only the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, the University of California system, the California Institute of Technology and Stanford.

Perhaps the most famous example gets broadcast on most football Saturdays across the country, as announcer Keith Jackson relays the story of Gatorade, developed at the campus here to hydrate athletes in the warm climate.

But Florida, more so than its competitors, found a unique way in January to showcase its work to a captive crowd of sports fans.

Faculty and students are developing a NaviGator for the Department of Defense. The unmanned dune buggy uses eight internal computers to maneuver a programmed route with set GPS points, and cameras in the front spot impenetrable obstacles. The technology could one day lead to military or civilian vehicles that enter battle or other hazardous situations without anyone behind the wheel.

Three engineering students recently loaded up their NaviGator, plastered with blue and orange decals, into a white trailer splashed with the UF logo and drove cross-country on Interstate 10 to Glendale, Ariz., site of the BCS national football title game.

The exhibition in the parking lot at University of Phoenix Stadium and displays at sports bars, pep rallies and hotels drew the attention of some of the 75,000 spectators in town to see the game.

“We know they were there for the football game, but if we did it right, maybe they could also get a glimpse of what our research is like,” said Pramod Khargonekar, dean of the College of Engineering. “I think there is a lot of excitement, an aura of success around the university right now. We absolutely will try to take advantage of this in the future, showcasing our research at a major sports event. Every weekend 100,000 people come to campus, and we're right in front of them.”

In Glendale, the displays garnered a couple notable visitors — Karen Holbrook, president of the Ohio State University and former Florida vice president for research, and an executive with Dell Inc.

Students are already at work on the NaviGator's next generation. They'll convert a Toyota Highlander with the technology, with more flexibility to travel the same roads as other manned vehicles.

“DOD wants to have 30 percent of their arsenal like this by 2015,” said master's student Gregory Garcia. “We're proud to do this work.”

Sports funding studies

In the weeks following the BCS title, the University of Florida Web site congratulated the Gators on the school's second national championship in nine months — men's basketball in March and football in January.

After about 15 seconds, another slide flashed in the page's dominant image, labeling quarterback Chris Leak as a recent graduate and a Draddy Trophy, or “Academic Heisman,” finalist.

As soon as Leak enters the athletics administration offices inside the football stadium, the staff nearly in unison greets him like a regular at the bar on “Cheers.”

“Hey, Chris.”

Leak graduated with a sociology degree in December, 3_ years after he enrolled, and set Gator quarterback records for a true freshman.

“Ever since we won, the atmosphere has been real hype,” he said. “That's why I came to Florida, to get the best of both worlds, athletics and academics.”

With the University of Georgia, Florida shares the Southeastern Conference's most stringent requirements for its student-athletes. The Gators use a model developed by an economics professor to forecast whether a student is likely to maintain a “C” average in college. The scale examines all college-prep high school courses, usually 16 to 20; the league permits schools to include only the top 14.

Still, the school has won the SEC's all-sports title 16 of the past 19 seasons and finished in the top 10 nationally every year since 1984.

And Florida has the fourth-most academic All-Americans since 1992 among all Division I institutions with 63.

Athletics officials are quick to point out they have attained success without going on NCAA probation, as seven other SEC schools have since 2002.

In the men's locker room at the $10 million basketball facility, you'll find the standard fare: championship logos, photos depicting team unity, team stats and league standings.

You'll also see a bulletin board covered not with next week's opponent dissing the Gators in the paper, but printed news stories from ESPN.com about suspensions and turmoil at other programs.

Above the practice court, coach Billy Donovan has hung a banner for every basketball player who has earned a degree in his 10-year tenure.

“If you aren't predicted to be a 'C' student, you really can't even be approved for a recruiting visit unless you sit down and mathematically prove you'll be in that range when you finish your senior year,” said Keith Carodine, associate athletics director for academic affairs. “There are some folks we haven't been able to recruit. But it obviously hasn't hurt us.”

To the contrary, the exposure from national championship teams has Florida ready to set a record for applicants this year, with more than 25,000 high school seniors petitioning to become part of the Gator Nation.

For 2006, Florida Gator license plates edged out the previous year's top seller in the state, “Protect the Panther.” More than 90,000 Sunshine State drivers purchased the specialty tags for their cars.

“That national exposure absolutely has an impact,” said Zina Evans, the school's admissions director. “Whether it's through the commercials, reading the newspaper or constantly having our name out there, it reminds students to take a look at us. College is going to be a well-rounded experience at Florida.”

A campus partner

Like most big-time college athletic programs, Florida's is self-sustaining, covering all its expenses — and turning a profit — from ticket and apparel sales, broadcasting rights and fan donations.

But athletics officials insist they don't sit from on high, immune from the university and its academic mission.

Florida collects about $2.4 million in student fees for athletic purposes. Those go largely to maintaining the school's athletic facilities, most of which are open to student use.

The Gator golf teams play on the campus course, which students can use at a reduced rate. The Stephen C. O'Connell Center is home to men's and women's basketball, volleyball, gymnastics, swimming and diving, but students can also use the pools and weight rooms anytime during the day when no teams are competing.

The filing cabinets in front of Greg McGarity's window support rows of blue and orange commemorative photos, pennants, caps, cereal boxes and liquor bottles. The view leads to a banner showing the celebration after the Gators' 1996 national football championship.

But the senior associate athletics director finds no reason to gloat.

“We are no better, no more important than any other division on campus,” he said. “At the same time, we are a very visible department. There's a lot of attention paid to athletics. But we inject ourselves anywhere we can to express our desire to be a vibrant member of campus.”

Every Monday morning, fundraising members of development staffs for both athletics and the university meet to discuss what projects they would like to advance, and whose deep pocket they might target.

A few years ago, one of the school's Bull Gators — those who donate at least $12,000 each to athletics — wanted to endow a special fund for coaches' salaries in honor of his deceased father.

(Such generous gifts normally earn the right to purchase the newly renovated luxury boxes in the football stadium, complete with full kitchens, private baths and padded reclining seats.)

Doug Brown, director of the program, told him the athletics department didn't want donors giving specifically to meet payroll. Instead, he forwarded the donor to the College of Business, where his gift established the Center for Entrepreneurship.

“It's rare we ever get into a wrestling match over a prospect,” Brown said. “If you want your money to go to cancer research, that's ultimately where it's going to go. You have to have the interest and the ability to give.”

Paul Robell, vice president for development with the University of Florida Foundation, makes sure his staff pores over alumni rolls to find likely targets. A sign on the conference room table reads, “The bee that hangs around the hive doesn't get the honey.”

“To be honest, there are some major donors who only want to give to football,” he said. “The man whose name is on the stadium was that way. The university went to him and said we wouldn't have athletics without the university.”

Half of the gift that named Ben Hill Griffin Stadium went to the school's academic fund.

To help a push to become a top-10 public university in the U.S. News and World Report rankings (Florida was No. 13 this year), the school will announce the public phase of a $1.2 billion capital campaign in September.

“There's no way around the visibility and exposure you get from winning,” Brown said. “Is it the difference between a million-dollar endowment from someone who wasn't going to give but now is? I doubt it. Will somebody be more willing to talk when the university calls soliciting for their annual fund? I really think so.”