You can print out the names, titles and departments of the staff for the NCAA national office. All 13 mind-numbing pages.

If you're looking for reasons why the NCAA is as nimble as a dairy cow, those 495 names listed on its website are a good place to start. (And I'm not even counting the Test Department, which -- until it was deleted Thursday -- listed, no lie, Angelina Jolie and Alfre Woodard as associate directors and Brad Pitt as system director. No wonder the new March Madness TV rights were so expensive.)

The NCAA needs to slim down if it wants to be effective in the future. Aaron M. Sprecher/Icon SMI

The NCAA used to be lean and mean. Now it's as bloated as a Jabba the Hutt. It has become a huge, sluggish bureaucracy inhabited by a mixture of bright and occasionally brilliant administrators who care passionately about intercollegiate athletics and clueless, tone-deaf policy shapers and enforcers who have no real-world experience.

By the way, this isn't just me talking. I spoke with several coaches and former NCAA officials who question the organization's ability to remain relevant. The consensus: It can happen, but only if the NCAA is willing to make fundamental changes to the way it does business.

Right now, the NCAA has too many coats of bureaucratic paint. Its size has contributed to its inability to react quickly. Imagine a battleship trying to turn around in the Panama Canal. That's the NCAA.

It wasn't created for these times and these issues. It initially was the byproduct of then-President Theodore Roosevelt's concerns about the violent nature of a budding sport called football. As college athletics grew, so did the NCAA, evolving from a mom-and-pop organization to a dictatorship of sorts in the Walter Byers era to an overweight and sometimes clumsily ineffective regulatory body.

The NCAA means well, it really does. But good intentions don't always equal accomplishments. Those 495 staff members aren't going to like to hear that, but tough.