We could have sworn that was the notorious water-cooler tout, Billy Bob (Online) Redsweater riding the buckboard and doing a chorus of Rave On while shouting something about "KENT STATE -- TAKE THE FIVE AND A HALF!" Or maybe that was the Motor City Madman himself, Ricardo Pitino, changing horses, uh, automakers, uh, microphones, uh, jobs, uh, SUCKERS, in mid-negotiation. Ohhhhhh Ricky! Ohhhhh Lucy! Ohhhh Louisville! Ohhhh Michigan! Ohhhh Texas Tech! Ohhhh Sandbox.com! Don't these people have the grace to shut up and lie low until this Big Dance thing blows over?

Meanwhile, back in the Ides of Madness, bracketeers have become so adept at fingering the beloved NCAA selection committee's non-coincidence coincidences throughout the draw that this year's potential second-rounders -- Hello, That You? -- seem far too contrived. Duke vs. DiCaprio -- with Missouri's Leonardo lookalike, Quin Snyder, trying to recriminate the very same recruits he helped lure to Durham? Maryland (Modern-Day) vs. Maryland (Pleistocene), as in the fussin', fightin', half-step-stompin' image of Georgia State's 102-year old Lefty Driesell? Arizona vs. Wake Forest, wherein Loren Woods shows his former mates how a wacko found truth and happiness in the saguaro?

Come on, Smoke-Filled Room. You could have done better than that. Although a Boston College-Ohio State matchup (This Is Your Life, Jim O'Brien; Don't sue!) is not so far-fetched in the Eastern finals, the resumed religious crusade between Notre Dame and Brigham Young (break out the 20^th-anniversary candles for that grainy Danny Ainge coast-to-coaster) must wait until a meeting in the Final Four. Which will happen about the same time Pope John Paul Deux does the nasty with Marie Osmond.

Where the committee really blew the deal was in not pairing the obvious 2-vs.-15 duel of the decade: Arizona against Princeton. Imagine the 40 minutes of sheer panic Bill Walton would have been forced to endure colorizing a game between his sons, 6'8" Wildcat sophomore Luke and 6'7" Tiger senior Nate. Should have happened. Imagine Off-The-Wall William trying to stay neutral, not to mention controversial, while the battling bros barbecued one another. Would he actually acknowledge the truth, that we were viewing two of the brighter, nicer kids-next-door? Or would the Goofster bow to his characteristically subtle nature and play his inimitably infamous Larry Johnson card:

Bill, what do you think of the family matchup so far?

It's an unbelievably PITIFUL EFFORT by Luke! He should be ashamed to be anyone's son! And Nate? How can this young man look himself in the mirror every morning? He is a DESPICABLE HUMAN BEING!

***

CinderFellas

Charlotte (9) in the Midwest. Yeah, Diego Guevara (no relation to Che) is still flushing threes and blowing kisses to his love-mate. But since the school shed it's initials UNC -- after last Sunday, the 49ers were happily satisfied they weren't sharing the name with that bow-wow outfit from Chapel Hill -- 6'8", 230-pound bruiser Rodney White has become The Man. Or at least one of the best freshMEN anywhere. This team has holed 56 trifectas in its last five games, and the practically unknown Bobby Lutz (as in zoot-sootz) is in constant cahoots with success, a resplendent coach under any circumstances. These now happen to be perfectly winnable contests in Dayton against enigmatic, without-a-clue Tennessee and not-that-scary No. 1 seed Illinois.

Gonzaga (12) in the South. Yawwwwn. The Zags should own an endorsement contract for slippers, as much mileage as they've gotten over the last three seasons as the ultimate fantasy pick. A Sweet 16, Elite 8, another Sweet 16. On March Sundays Casey Calvary gets more TV time than Mount Calvary while Dan Dickau, the transfer guard from Washington, has been the perfect replacement for all those other tough, smart and resilient John Stockton wannabes who hang out at John's old man's pub in Spokane. A 12 seed is absurd. Get those national TV cameras over to the bar again. In Memphis, Virginia's going down. Maybe Oklahoma, too.

St. Joseph's (9) in the West. The kid John Chaney wanted to replace Pepe Sanchez with at Temple has become the best freshman point guard in the land (Jameer Nelson). The fearless slasher who started his career at Villanova has become a scoring machine (Marvin "Yeah I Got 18 In A Minute" O'Connor). A William and Mary transfer (Bill Phillips) whom Jay Bilas says is "the poor man's Christian Laettner" -- wait a sec; wasn't Laettner the poor man's Jay Bilas? -- has shored up the rebounding. Then there's coach/comedian Phil Martelli, who'd be a Dick Vitale lookalike if he had one less eye. And Alexandre Sazanov, the tall Russian who alternates hairstyles between braids and beads. Don't ask. Put 'em all together and The Hawk Will Never Die. Well, at least not in the first round to Georgia Tech. No. 1 seed Stanford in the second? Nice draw in San Diego. Keep flappin', Hawk.

Oklahoma State (11) in the East. Tragedy's stepchildren. History's most sentimental favorite. If the star-crossed Cowboys could manage to get by Boston College in the second round (USC is practically a bye in the first), they'd have an entire country rooting for them with not a dry eye in the house. The fact that Eddie Sutton, the hollowness still written across his weathered gunslinger's face, has somehow held this group together after that unspeakably tragic plane crash is not only a remarkable accomplishment but a tribute to the 10 men they left behind -- among whom was OK State's talented young publicist, Will Hancock, a prince among men, a new father and a personal friend. When the 'Pokes hit the floor in Uniondale, N.Y. this week, objectivity takes a holiday.

***

Crime and Punishment I
(or, be careful what you wish for)

Who do you want, Joe Forte?

Duke! We want Duke!

Has Forte, or for that matter any of the Tar Pits emerged from Underground Atlanta yet after that ugly punking in the ACC final? Holy Michael of Jordan! The vaunted Duke-North Carolina rivalry might as well have been Duke-North Dakota, for all the Heels looked like they cared. Paging Brendan Haywood: Your hearse is idling. Long before the first half was over, ESPN's anchors were preparing their "Thank you for participating, Carolina, and drive home safely" lines.

The Heels' effortless pathos was duly rewarded not once but twice by the 10-person selection committee, an undoubtedly embarrassed 30 percent of whom are or were employees of that state's university system (N.C. State AD Lee Fowler, UNC Charlotte AD Judy Rose and Citadel AD and former N.C State coach Les Robinson). Not only were the humiliated Heels denied a No. 1 seed but they were paired against Princeton in New Orleans -- a traditionally indigestable appetizer for any NCAA guest -- with probably Providence to follow. Dessert Alert: Carolina won both Dean Smith's NCAA titles in the Superdome.

So, Joe Forte, who do you want?

Alive! We just want to get out of here alive!

Crime and Punishment II

The best team in the Colonial Athletic Association, Richmond, won the regular-season title long after informing the Colonial that the school would be leaving the CAA for the Atlantic 10 following the season. As a result, the Colonial prohibited the Spiders from playing in the league tournament, which George Mason won. Richmond had beaten George as well as Mason a week before by 20 points, but while GMU begins play this week, the Spiders were relegated to eentsy-weentsyness and left out of the 65-team field.

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave," wrote Sir Walter Scott. Or was it Scott Ungerer, the Richmond point guard? One of those.

***

Who let the Dawgs in?

The NCAA likes to digress about degree-of-difficulty of a candidate's schedule. But who's going to schedule Richmond? Uhh, maybe Indiana or Syracuse? Georgia Tech? South Carolina? Auburn? Probably not, since all those people have had their butts kicked by Richmond ... wake up, Mike Tranghese and all you other committee people ... in the NCAA tournament! So, okay, go ahead and leave Richmond home and invite somebody like Georgia who schedules the entire universe and barely finishes .500 (16-14). What in the name of Herschel Walker does that prove?

If I'm Jim Harrick -- for that matter, if I'm Hardin Simmons -- I'm on the phone to Duke, Michigan State, Arizona, Kentucky, the New Jersey Devils, the Baltimore Ravens and Sugar Shane Mosley right now for my non-conference slate next year. It was Juli Boeheim's husband -- the same Syracuse coach who once was a Richmond tournament victim -- who had the best line: "You should be rewarded for winning games, not playing games."

***

The Matchup

If you're a connoisseur of jambalaya, crawfish pie and file' gumbo, not to mention confrontations in the backcourt, find a way to New Orleans Friday night where Penn State's exquisite shooter, Joe Crispin, the kid who winged the dagger into the heart of Michigan State in the Big Ten tournament, may have a difficult time getting off a breath, much less a shot, against John Linehan of Providence.

Linehan, who could be anywhere from 5'2" to 5'8" (only Muggsy Bogues' shadow knows) is a tiny water tick in a pound full of hounds whose sole duty on earth is to attack and destroy. Think: Hannibal without the chianti or cool chapeaux. Moreover, if a certain former No. 1 team isn't careful in the following round, little Mr. Linehannibal could turn the Tar Heels into just another withering lobotomy case as well.

***

History

Holy Cross (1947) vs. Kentucky ('48) in Uniondale, N.Y. -- the eighth and ninth schools to win the NCAA championship. How about Bob Cousy dribbling through his legs and Cliff Hagan throwing in a hook in an Old-Time's-Sake halftime show?

Cartography

Fresno State vs. California in Memphis. Maryland vs. George Mason in Boise.

Cosmetology

Luke Recker of Iowa. Eugene Edgerson of Arizona. (Mean Gene, dude, that fly afro is so Darnell Hillman, yet so you.) Jonathan Beerbohm of Boston College. Saul Smith of Kentucky (how 'bout them curls, girls). Casey Jacobsen of Stanford. But nobody wows the women like the Studmeister, 33-year-old Quin Snyder, the Washington state native and ex-Duke player and assistant who has emerged as a recruiting and coaching force at Missouri. Not to mention as college sports' latest version of a Hollywood Hunkthrob. The guy is a walking, talking screen test, so naturally unaffected and stark, raving perfect -- as someone once said of Tom Cruise -- he "makes women mad."

When the TV cameras caught the tousle-haired Snyder in repose looking up at the scoreboard during the Big Twelve tournament last week -- his facial features bathed in sweat and somehow angelically encircled by lights that seemed to add a beneficent glow to the closeup -- a girl I know practically had to excuse herself from the premises due to uncontrollable trembling.

So Quin, babe, do the rest of us a favor. Get a (locker) room!

***

WWF Bracket: DYNAMITE IN THE DOME!

Temple vs Texas. Old Rasslin' in New Orleans. Governor Body tosses the opening jump ball, Dennis Rodman does the sideline color and Vince McMahon hosts halftime from just outside the locker room where a bevy of trailer-trash debutantes straddle two snorting Longhorns. With hook-em's and negligees flying everywhere, Texas exes Mathew McConaughey and Renee Zelwegger come roaring down the hall to bite off the head of the screeching Owl. But Temple's own Bill Cosby suddenly emerges to take out McConaughey with a Philly cage-match stranglehold at the same time he's bitch-slapping Zelwegger into submission. "You sure you want some of MY medicine?" he screams. "NURSE F------ BETTY?"

WWF (Pipsqueak Division):

Life is truly wonderful now that jousting journalists Billy The Kid Packer and Undertaker Phelps are getting it on -- The Undertaker, all hot and bothered that The Kid would suggest to a national audience that Indiana is still considering replacing Mike Davis with Steve Alford. Hello? Did not Mr. And Mrs. America and all the ships at sea know this already? Anyway, kudos to The Kid for abandoning his usual role as mouthpiece-to-the-mentors and issuing some furious journo-smack. As for The Undertaker: doesn't he have enough to remember what with "shoot the three," "points in the paint," "step up," "get it done," and, of course, keeping Dickie V's medication in order?

***

Press conference

The one where Texas Tech AD Gerald Myers and Tech Prez David Schmidly explained how they had decided to fire coach James Dickey a week earlier and had spoken to Bob Knight a few days after that, and that Schmidly was on his way to Washington anyway so he just happened to stop by Florida to see Knight where he spent a couple of hours not talking about the coaching job but just getting to know one another which wasn't bush league at all or unfair to Dickey since he'd done such a fine job for the University and ...

Spare Me, Pinocchio!

In future eons when someone dares to wonder how Knight could have actually wound up deep in the heart of the Texas panhandle, ring up the transcript of this beauty and wonder no more. We remembered the beleaguered coach was in Jupiter. But these folks sounded like they were straight off Pluto! If Dudley Do-Knight ever needed another boss he could shove up, down, around and sideways and get away with all of it, Schmidly obviously is his man.

(By the way, Office Pool Bob likes Stanford over Florida for all the marbles.)

***

Who will win?

I don't do Sandboxes or office pools. But upon further review ...

After Boston College surprises Kentucky, DUKE will repeat it's early-season victory over the Eagles and advance from the East.

Stanford slips up early once again, this time to St. Joe's, so white-hot MARYLAND finally matches the intensity of Gary (Sweat-Boy) Williams and gets out of the West.

On a dazzling run that partially blots out a horrid sports year in the Queen City, Charlotte upsets Illinois and Kansas before falling to a steeled-by-death, focused-in-heart ARIZONA in the Midwest.

As the saying goes in tennis, the Holders -- they being MICHIGAN STATE -- beat down pesky Gonzaga and repeat their 2000 title-game victory over Florida, this time in the South.

At the Final Four in Minneapolis, the thing about Duke's trey shooters is the night will inevitably arrive when they are missing. Maryland's versatility is oppressive enough and, with Steve Blake again neutralizing Jason Williams, the Terps should get the split, the one that counts the most, in these teams' fourth passion play of the season. But the title rests on the other side of the bracket. With the team's rapidly improving mix of energetic youth, been-there experience, offensive rebounding and sheer heart and will, MICHIGAN STATE -- despite much of America vomiting at more Tom Izzo-Steve Mooch buddies-for-life columns -- should again fight it's way through Arizona and Maryland to win a second straight national championship.

Curry Kirkpatrick is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at curry.kirkpatrick@espnmag.com.