373 degrees Kelvin (Sampson)

(Holy shit, my titles are awesome. I'm so fucking clever. But you probably don't even get that. Go to a blog where people are as dumb as you, e.g. Busted Coverage, ok?)

Evidently, there's a good chance that Indiana coach Kelvin Sampson will be canned tomorrow afternoon. Come Tuesday, he'll likely be homeless. By Thursday, dead.

And for what? Lust. Lust for the services of 17 year-olds. If you're Matt, you can sympathize. For the rest of us, we can at least empathize. His only sin was wanting too much. Or in the words of Hannibal Lecter, "He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice?" Young Jodie Foster in a southern accent: "We see a high school junior with a mad handle and a sweet J, and we want him so bad that we call him each night before we can fall asleep."

So here's my question: What's so wrong with a little talent lust? Do we really need the NCAA to police coaches who can't help themselves? Coaches who woo and woo until they can woo no more? Why not let the recruits police the coaches? Why not let the recruits police the coaches the way your high school squeeze policed you? "Matt, I get that you want me. But you're coming off way too desperate. You have to stop calling me or my parents'll get pissed. I'm going now, ok? Bye. ...No, I won't be around later, ok? Bye... For real. Bye!"

Instead, Kelvin Sampson has been disgraced, and may soon be jobless, for what I see as a victimless crime (ok, maybe one victim named Bruce Weber). Ask Eric Gordon if he cares how many phone calls he got while he fields his next call from a future agent promising more money than Geraldo has earned in his lifetime.

No one paid anyone. No one beat up anyone. No one bought anyone dinner to make the death of a young man's father sting a touch less. No one killed anyone. And most importantly, no one bought anyone dinner. Why is this such a big deal? Sure, it's a little sleazy, but recruiting is a sleazy business. And guess what--your favorite team's coach is a sleazebag too. And I guarantee whatever that coach--let's call him Tomrick PaCreano--does to land stud recruits is no more wholesome than what Sampson has done.

And no, Matt, I still won't go out with you.