After a CSI crew investigates the recent drama involving the University of Hawaii football team, the report will come to a two-word conclusion.

Robert Kekaula.

If Kekaula, an iconic sports journalist who died in June, were still with us, there would not have been publicly aired complaints from players; an ensuing legislative hearing on how UH conducts business; the coaching candidacy — and then bashing — of June Jones; and a fan base wondering: What the heck?

Kekaula’s news-breaking reports and baritone play-by-play of football telecasts were not the only reasons he was inducted into UH’s Circle of Honor last fall. Kekaula was Ray Donovan, a fixer who made problems disappear. If there were disputes between players, or between players and coaches, or between players’ mates, Kekaula would be summoned. He would say, “braaah …” and then become Dr. Phil. Or Judge Judy.

If someone were acting irrationally, Kekaula would call him a “whack-a-doodle,” then have a chat, and whack the doodle out of the nutso. Figuratively, of course.

Need an entertainer? He made sure people with Hoku awards would perform. Need help? He would reach out to the braddah-braddah network for support. Kekaula provided more favors than Party City.

Kekaula was generous always and nice mostly, but not that nice. He was strict with co-workers, and quick to anger. And then he would help people. And when he was done dispensing advice, his escape line would be: “I gotta go to work. I’m gonna jump in the shower now.”

If Aloha Stadium were unavailable for spectator events, he would have helped negotiate a deal for the stadium officials to defray the cost of Ching Complex’s retrofitting.

If players were grumbling about a toxic environment fostered by the head coach, Kekaula would have visited athletic director David Matlin, and both would have found a way to calm down the situation immediately. The complaints never would have left the locker room.

When some state senators called a hearing to specifically discuss head coach Todd Graham’s contract and his treatment of players, then opened by requesting the athletic department’s budget, UH officials felt they were ambushed. And they were. It was a chicken-kukai move. But so what? I imagine Kekaula, a poker enthusiast, would encourage UH to play the pity-us card. If UH wanted to show the financial damage of Aloha Stadium’s unavailability and the pandemic-related hardships, open the books. “We’re broke. This is why. Please give us back the money you rescinded.”

And Kekaula would never advise a public bashing of Jones, a widely popular figure who wanted to help resurrect the Warriors as successor to Graham, who resigned on Jan. 14. After negotiations broke off on Friday, it was revealed UH opened with a two-year offer and succession plan, as well as denying Jones autonomy over which assistant coaches to hire or not hire. UH should have taken the high road, then thanked Jones for his interest and willingness to help.

Instead, UH countered by tsk-tsk-ing Jones’ publicized candidacy, then declare Jones had wanted to be involved in the program’s marketing. Would he dare drop “Rainbow” from the nickname and change the logo? The thing is, Jones was the head coach when the “H” logo was commissioned and black was added as a uniform color. But as Jim Donovan, who was associate athletic director at the time, noted, the changes were all made collaboratively among Jones, agent Leigh Steinberg, UH’s marketing branch and then-athletic director Hugh Yoshida. It was Yoshida who commissioned UH alumni Kurt Osaki and Craig Hirasaki to design what would be the kapa-trimmed H logo. It was Yoshida who introduced the logo and Warriors’ re-branding at a news conference.

UH should have made a real offer to Jones — or not make an offer — then live with the consequences without it getting personal. It got personal.

UH’s hope is that the program can move forward successfully with Timmy Chang, a former record-setting quarterback whose football IQ is as sharp as his spirals. Few are as driven and competitive as Chang. He’s also an extremely nice guy, a family man with deep ties to Hawaii, as well as a coach who has grown professionally on the mainland since graduating from UH in 2004.

After the whack-a-doodle weekend, all parties could use a shower.