Oden would hit another level by adding madness to his method

SAN ANTONIO -- I want more from Greg Oden. Is that OK to say? Is it politically correct? Is it stupid, unreasonable, selfish?

Sue me. I want more from Greg Oden, and for a simple reason: He has more to give than his 15 points, 10 rebounds and 3.5 blocked shots per game. Sounds scary, but if you've watched Ohio State as many times in person as I have this season, you'd know it's true.

Greg Oden's future is already bright, but a dark side would help him reach his full potential. (AP)

Oden is great, but he could be greater. Will he ever be greater? Probably. He's still recovering from a brutal wrist injury that would have sidelined other players in other situations. Lots of players, maybe even most players, would have redshirted after undergoing the wrist surgery Oden underwent on his right wrist before the season. It is his shooting wrist, or it was his shooting wrist until Oden decided to play anyway, even if that meant shooting left-handed.

This was a special season for Ohio State, and this is a special player in special circumstances, with possibly just one season of college basketball before entering the NBA. That's why Oden didn't redshirt. His timetable simply didn't allow it.

All of the above makes Oden physically tough, mentally tough. Throw in quick, strong, coordinated and 7 feet tall, 280 pounds, and you've got the makings of one unbelievable basketball player. And Oden is very nearly that. He is very nearly unbelievable. He changes the game on defense simply by standing there, though he's much more than a statue.

Check the tape of Tennessee's final shot in the Sweet 16, Ramar Smith's driving layup for the victory. Never mind whether Smith got off the shot before the buzzer. That's irrelevant, because Oden pursued the ball like a starving eagle pursues a pigeon. He barreled through the lane, soared over a teammate and eviscerated it.

He's special, this Greg Oden.

But he has another gear to give, and while he doesn't owe me -- or you -- the privilege of seeing that gear, it would be a beautiful sight nonetheless.

Imagine Greg Oden playing with more passion. Give him Tyler Hansbrough's motor. Give him Joakim Noah's passion. If Oden could tap into any of those emotions for 40 minutes, he wouldn't be as popular as he is. He wouldn't be perceived as this sweet, humble kid who happens to be a great player. He would be seen as a bully, as a monster.

It would be beautiful.

If it was ever going to happen, it was going to happen Saturday in the South Regional final. One day earlier, goofy Memphis center Joey Dorsey had thrown all manner of bulletin board material against the wall, whether to fire himself up or hog attention or get inside Oden's head or all of the above. OSU coaches wondered how Dorsey's impertinence would affect Oden, who hadn't been shown such disrespect all season.

Alas, it had no effect. Oden ingested the news with some fava beans and a nice chianti, Dorsey's insults making no impact on his biorhythms. Indeed, while Oden's teammates were ticked off by Dorsey's silly ruminations, Oden was the voice of reason in the Ohio State locker room, reminding his teammates that the Memphis game was not a one-on-one affair, that he would not be sucked into a personal duel with Dorsey.

Classy. Mature. And, sadly, true to form. Oden played Dorsey and Memphis as if he was playing Bryce Webster and Minnesota. Oden produced an All-American game -- 17 points, nine rebounds, one blocked shot -- but it was a typical game (for him). It left Ohio State victorious, but it left me wanting more.