Be careful, NCAA, you won't get what you wished for

Sure you're waiting. And you'll keep waiting. This stuff isn't easy to prove, and in most cases it's downright impossible. College basketball's biggest cheaters are too clever, Kelvin Sampson notwithstanding, to leave a paper trail. It takes a snitch, and few of these greasy characters are brave enough -- or dumb enough -- to flush their career by ratting out a cheater. The NCAA has a chance to prove this stuff, but not if it naively believes people like O.J. Mayo are "student-athletes" instead of what they really are: private corporations. And even then, without subpoena power the NCAA is limited.

Meanwhile, cheating goes on. And it will continue to go on, and let me tell you the most likely players to continue the fine tradition of cheating in college basketball:

The best players.

The future pros -- the ones the NCAA is determined to keep in school for at least one year. And possibly two. And even longer, if Myles Brand has it his way.

"We think it's better that they stay two years," Brand said during the Final Four. "Two is better than one. In fact, I would prefer they stay at least three and maybe four."

Unbelievable. If players like O.J. Mayo had to stay in school for four years, they wouldn't own just the finest plasma television in town. They'd own Circuit City. And their coach, shrewdly clueless types like Tim Floyd, would have no idea what any of us were talking about when we asked about a poor college freshman's fancy TV or nice clothes or cell phone or plane junkets for himself and family members.

It's raining money on the best amateurs in America. Considering the payoff down the line, not just for a player like O.J. Mayo but for the agency that lands him, it will keep raining. Hell, it's a 12-month monsoon season.

And the NCAA doesn't realize it lives in a bamboo hut.