In hindsight, Bart Mandell had plenty of better options when he got vanity license plates to show allegiance to Ohio State football.

He could have gone with the simple "BUCFAN1," or to tweak his alma mater's bitter rival, "UM-4-WEAK." Or to honor one of the school's proud traditions, he could have picked "DOT-THE-I."

Alas, Mandell decided to put the name of the team's head coach on the back of his red Mercedes convertible, and now the Montclair resident feels like a guy with the tattoo of an ex-girlfriend on his arm.

Because the back of that shiny sports car? It's now a seven-letter tribute a coach forced to resign in scandal.

"TRESSEL."

Whoops.

"I have a lot of passion for Ohio State football, and over the course of the past 10 years, I've really loved Jim Tressel and a lot of things about him," Mandell said Monday night, explaining the decision he made at the MVC three years ago. "I'm just very disappointed."

There is a lesson in the downfall of Tressel, who had been one of the most powerful figures in college football the past 10 years. Actually, if you're Bart Mandell, there are two:

1. When getting a vanity license plate, don't choose one that might some day embarrass you and your family.

2. No college football coach, no matter how many titles on his resume, can become bigger than the institution paying his salary.

The latter, of course, is most important here. Tressel thought he was big enough to ignore the warnings that his players were selling memorabilia to a local tattoo parlor. He thought he could get away with not telling his superiors and even lying to the NCAA about what he knew.

Monday, with new damning revelations surfacing each day, Tressel was forced to resign. Had he simply owned up to the violations when he first became aware of them last April, they would be old news now. Instead, he behaved like a man who was a king, not a coach.

Then again, who could expect anything else? The president at his own school — his supposed boss — was asked in March if he considered firing Tressel when the scandal surfaced.

"Are you kidding me?" Gordon Gee responded with a laugh. "I'm just hopeful the coach doesn't dismiss me."

So Tressel went on abusing his power. Ohio State, as a result, suffers a blow to its image, and proud alumni like Mandell suffer with the Buckeyes. The 58-year-old psychotherapist graduated in 1974, back when Woody Hayes was still the coach and Archie Griffin was a classmate.

Mandell left Ohio, but brought Buckeye Nation to Montclair. He met his future wife, Sharon, at a party in Hamptons, and — luckily for their two daughters — they were already several dates into their relationship when he discovered that she was a Michigan grad. Everyone in her family, in fact, went to the University of Michigan.

"He's not a humble fan about the victories," Sharon said with a laugh. The family hangs a divided loyalty banner on their front porch before the annual rivalry game each fall — half Michigan, half Ohio State. If the Buckeyes win — and lately, they always win — Bart Mandell will decorate the yards of other Michigan grads in town in red and gray balloons and banners.

Now those Michigan fans were the ones sending him messages on Facebook on Monday morning, asking him when he'd be headed back to the MVC for new plates. On his way to a round of golf, Mandell found out that Tressel had resigned, and really, he wasn't all that surprised.

He had followed the news reports, and had heard the rumors that more were on the way. The man, with a photo of himself and the smiling football coach in his office, knew that soon, he'd be looking for a new vanity license plate. Tressel was not the man he thought he was.

"I've looked at the plate the last couple of weeks and started to grieve early," Mandell said. "In time, I'll get new license plates. I'm not sure what it's going to say yet."

Just a hunch: The name of the new coach, no matter how sterling his reputation, will not be on it.

Steve Politi: spoliti@starledger.com; Twitter.com/NJ_StevePoliti