Todd Turner, the athletic director at Washington, might apologize to the ticket-buying public for curt service, if there was any.

But he was not about to apologize for his school's basketball program. Or his need to exploit it.

It wasn't Turner's fault that the university had to spend $2 million in legal fees reaching a settlement in the Rick Neuheisel case.

But it wasn't the fault of Jonathan Gewirtz, either.

But, as is usually the case, the buck has stopped at the bottom.

Gewirtz didn't mind the fact his seats in Edmundson Pavilion didn't have backs, and, from the top five rows of the building, his view was sometimes obstructed by the scoreboard.

He could buy a season ticket there for $150 (for 15 home games), indoctrinating his family to the excitement and intimacy of college basketball without selling the SUV.

His 4-year-old daughter had a Huskies cheerleading outfit, his 2-year-old son was singing parts of "Bow Down to Washington."

Then came the letter. His tickets would cost $300 this year (for 16 games), nearly doubling the price. He inquired about nearby seats that, while more expensive, hadn't been increased as much and was told to get those he'd have to become an annual donor to the athletic department.

"As an enthusiastic Husky basketball supporter, it is very disappointing to see how you have handled your recent success and treated your fans with such little respect," Gewirtz wrote the athletic department.

"It is sad to see a program finally on its feet again punish fans for the success by increasing ticket prices by up to 100 percent and offer limited options. It's almost enough to make me long for the up, but mostly down days, of previous years, but not really."

It's the "not really" that will fill up Edmundson Pavilion despite the increases.

But Gewirtz wanted a letter explaining the quantum leap.

"We'll still be Husky fans and we'll buy tickets outside the arena to a couple of games this year," wrote Gewirtz, "but we will not renew our season-ticket subscription under these terms. I hope you reconsider the size of the price increase and give us Husky fans something to cheer about in the offseason."

The days of the $10 ticket for a college basketball game at Washington are gone with Lynn Nance and Bob Bender. In fact, the days of walking up and buying a ticket except for a few unappealing non-conference games during the holidays are gone, too.

In a first year since taking over for Barbara Hedges, Turner oversaw a department that incurred a stunning shortfall of nearly $5 million, enough to turn Mike Lude around in his golf cart in Arizona.

Besides the Neuheisel fiasco, Turner inherited a football team that won one game, which not only cut into the number of tickets sold and the number of appearances on television but necessitated, in the end, the costly removal of one coaching staff and the hiring of another one.

The successes in football, the giant stadium filled on Saturdays, had allowed Washington to be mediocre in basketball. Now, basketball could come to the rescue.

Turner seized the day. He jacked up donor fees, the amount you've got to give annually to the athletic department just for the right to buy a ticket.

Suddenly, the very best season tickets cost more than $1,000, the donor fee for Founders Club members jumping to $700 plus the price tag of $395 for the ticket. Other donor levels increased too, from $100 to $250, and from $250 to $350.

Simply put, a basketball ticket for Pac-10 games costs $30 a game, plus the donor contribution ($350 or $250) required to be eligible to buy it. Most season tickets end up being $395 plus the $350 donation, or a total of $745.

"We've had a basketball program that was under-developed and under-valued," said Turner.

Turner points to the competition. Cal, he says, charges $35 a game, as does Arizona State. Duke charges $60 a game, North Carolina $37.

Their season-ticket prices are more than Washington's, Cal's at $630 plus a donation fee of $2,000, Iowa at $408, plus $5,000, Oregon State $420 plus $1,200.

"I don't think this is unfair for the quality of the team," said Turner. "Nobody likes to pay more than they have to. I don't like to pay more for cantaloupes at the grocery store.

"I feel for the guy who sees his tickets go up. But we have to make this work. That was what I was hired to do."

In buying time to revitalize the football program, Turner is pushing the UW faithful as hard as he can. He will let basketball carry the burden for a while.

"In the end," he said, "the only answer for Washington is to fill the football stadium again."

He admits he received far more grief raising the price of football tickets in the wake of a 1-10 season than he did the basketball increases.

Still, while the sale of football tickets is off 10 percent, revenues are up because of the stiff increases.

Turner could have cut the price of football tickets to fill the stadium. His solution, however, was to raise them, to "re-invest" in the program, gambling that spending money would eventually make money.

And using an unlikely ally, basketball, along the way.

E-mails for Blaine Newnham can be sent to sports@seattletimes.com