At least in theory, a feasibility study is supposed to give the reader the unvarnished truth about whether the thing being studied is, in fact, feasible. But neither you nor I was born yesterday, and so it was no surprise to either of us that the feasibility study conducted by Collegiate Consulting at the behest of the National Hockey League, the NHL Players’ Association, and College Hockey, Inc. would come back with a report on the prospect of starting a hockey program at the University of Illinois saying, “yep, totally feasible you guys.”

What was shocking was the overwhelmingly poor quality of the report itself. And not just the analysis, mind you.

This is the very first page of the report, ignoring the cover and table of contents. As the executive summary, this is the meat of the report, the tl;dr version for people lacking the attention span to sit through all 46 pages. If any portion of the report should get checked and re-checked, it is this.

And yet: (1) The apostrophe is missing from National Hockey League Players’ Association; (2) the facility constructed in Fargo is the “Scheels Arena,” not the “Scheels Center,” which is an entirely different building; (3) the cost of Bemidji State’s Sanford Center was closer to $73 million, not $35 million. This may all come off as nitpicking, and in some respects, it is (although in a report on whether hockey is feasible, misstating the cost of an arena by $38 million is a big oops). But the point is a simple one: Collegiate Consulting couldn’t bother to get the little things right. What reason is there for confidence in the bigger conclusions?

Nor is this an isolated example. Here is from a little further down in the executive summary on the very next page:

Why is Division I sometimes capitalized and sometimes not? Why is “Feasibility Study” now capitalized when it wasn’t on the first page? Who are the “[m]any” people who believe hockey would be “transformative?” What are the “powers to be [sic]?” By what metric was the Frozen Four in Chicago an outstanding success? (The report never gets around to this; the Frozen Four is only again mentioned once in the report, offhandedly, in reference to North Dakota’s participation). Did no one see the extra space between “expand” and “with?” Why is Collegiate Consulting, ostensibly a neutral consultant, so outwardly invested in Illinois adopting a hockey program?

If this isn’t enough, look at the “case study” conducted of Arizona State University and its recent adoption of a hockey program:

That’s it! That’s the whole case study! Paragraph one: We conducted a case study. Paragraph two: Arizona State didn’t used to have a hockey program. Paragraph three: Arizona State got $32 million in donations and now they have a hockey program. Paragraph Four: Arizona State has played in a few different arenas and are building a new one.

What in the hell is that? Here are the sorts of questions that you’d expect any halfway competent case study to at least gesture towards: What advantages or disadvantages did Arizona State have before starting the program? What obstacles has it encountered? Have initial revenue and expense expectations been met? If not, what assumptions proved incorrect? The report does none of this.

Now let’s get to the more substantive criticisms.