What is it the weathermen say? Tropical storms start with a single drop? They're right.

Wearing his Final Four hat in the festive Michigan State locker room, swingman Jason Richardson took the cap off a bottle of water, took a swig and poured a little on a teammate's head.

Well, Zach Randolph, a 6'9", 270-pound frosh, wasn't about to take that. No. So he grabbed a bottle, untwisted and splashed some H20 back J-Rich's way.

Then there was a pause.

Giggles swept the room. Players exchanged mischievous looks. Should we go for it?

Yes.

It was a monsoon. Coolers full of water were tossed around like wedding bouquets.

Assistant coach Stan Heath tried to step in. "Alright, knock it off," he said. No. He gave up and left the room, dripping wet. "Usually they listen," he said, shaking his head and wringing water from his tie.

So after the defending-champion Spartans swiped the slippers from the last Cinderella, defeating Temple 69-62 to lock up their third straight Final Four trip, all heaven broke loose. There was hardly a dry eye in the locker room -- mostly because everyone was drenched.

Not that J-Rich & Co. did this in front of their lockers. They did it in front of Adam Wolfe, a frosh who didn't even play. "It's my locker, man," he said, hopelessly pleading and pointing to the lake in front of his stall. "Look at this chair. Soaked."

After the coolers went dry, things settled down and the players started hugging and laughing. Wolfe, elated, took his socks off and tossed them in his puddle of water and ice. Pretty soon, I could hear him from the other side of the room. "Oh, baby! Oh, man! Yeow!" This is what makes college hoops wonderful, I thought. A freshman reaching the Final Four for the first time. I had to walk over and ask about his emotions.

Joy? Relief? Excitement?

"No," he said, not looking happy at all. "That was my only pair of socks."