Whether the Michigan Paralyzed Veterans of America, Prof. Emeritus Irwin Goldstein and Save the Big House like it or not, construction on Michigan Stadium's controversial new skyboxes is going to begin in November. The University Board of Regents has already made that decision. The regents aren't going to stop the $226 million project, even in light of the fact that the Athletic Department stacked the speakers' list at the June Regents meeting to feign widespread approval of its plans and that at least 600 faculty and staff members have signed a petition expressing their disapproval.

These are examples of the University at its worst. They're great lessons for the future, but they don't have much importance in the present.

What the University needs to be dealing with now is the logistics of carrying out a plan riddled with complexity that promises to bring dramatic changes to the Big House experience. Case in point: alcohol sales.

University President Mary Sue Coleman and the rest of the administration have put the issue of selling alcohol in the skyboxes on the back burner. The responses are always calculated and robotic: No alcohol will be sold at the Big House, no potential buyers care and no one foresees the no-alcohol policy as anything but a non-issue for now and forever.

But if the experiences of other Big Ten universities are any indication, it won't be long before alcohol is flowing in the skyboxes.

After adding 24 luxury suites to Spartan Stadium in 2004 and 2005, Michigan State University wasted little time making an exception to its no-alcohol policy for the wealthy few in the suites. While Coleman was president at the University of Iowa, Iowa was able to maintain an alcohol-free football stadium. Coleman left Iowa in 2002, and when Kinnick Stadium added luxury seating in 2006, the university abandoned its moral high ground. Now, suites and club seats offer the luxury of alcohol that fans paying steep ticket prices have come to expect.

As University of Michigan Regent Larry Deitch (D-Bingham Farms), who voted against the skybox plan, told The Wall Street Journal last December: "Why pay a whole bunch of money, drive up to Ann Arbor, sit behind a glass wall and not be able to get a beer?"

Even if the University can stand strong on its commitment to a no-alcohol policy and even if such a policy doesn't discourage potential buyers, the University has nothing to gain and everything to lose by enforcing this policy in the luxury boxes. At projected prices ranging from $55,000 to $85,000 per season, the skyboxes will be home to any number of high-profile University alumni and Michigan businessmen. Money talks. That's why there are going to be skyboxes in the first place.

Let's take Stephen Ross, for example. If Ross - who donated $100 million to the University a few years ago - pays for a luxury box, it's doubtful that he would be herded through the main gate like any regular fan. According to Diane Brown, University facilities and operations spokeswoman, it's more likely that, depending on personal preference, Ross and his family would have the option of entering through the stadium's tunnel or special vehicle entrance.

Although the select few who sit in skyboxes will supposedly be subject to the same rules and restrictions as normal ticket holders - regardless of whether they go through alternative entrances - I can't imagine Ross's wife being asked to leave if her Coach purse doesn't fit through the 5-by-8 plastic rectangle.

A purse might not be an aggravating example of skybox exceptionalism, but say a distinguished donor brought a bottle of vodka. If whoever is drinking in the skyboxes is held to the same standard as an of-age student caught with a bottle of vodka in the stadium, some old folks in suits would likely be ejected. But no one in a right mind would eject someone who is paying thousands of dollars for a three-hour football game - not to mention that these people are already some of the University's biggest donors.

That could leave quite a dilemma.

If the University continues to have a dry football stadium, it will be left with an impossible enforcement problem in the luxury suites. If it partially reverses its stance and allows alcohol in the skyboxes, imagine the backlash from fans who are already upset that the skyboxes represent a move toward elitism at the Big House. What happens then? Does the University open up the whole stadium to alcohol sales?

The University must pick its poison: enforcement, exceptions or alcohol. Maybe this time we can have a real discussion and everyone in the University community can have more than a cursory say.

Gary Graca is an associate editorial page editor. He can be reached at gmgraca@umich.edu.