Now that the season is over, the "Bachelor" style process of the NBA draft is hovering over the college game that will present us with who is staying or going; who will earn their degree or who will throw academia to the wind and trade a diploma for dollars.
I'm not adverse to a cutting-edge stereo system, McMansions, or plastic covered love seats, but an education seems so 20 years ago, and a $300,000 paycheck most likely does beam a little bit brighter than textbooks and 8 am classes.
On the other hand, I must admit that I engage in my inner Picasso and go through a "Blue Period" after March Madness, as I await how many great players will leave the NCAA for the NBA.
Selfish? Perhaps, but I invested in these players for a year or at least a few years in some cases. Sure, the Walls and the Favors were assumed for the major leagues, but can't I mourn their loss with the rest of college basketball fans? No longer will I be able to see Ohio State fans lose their lunch over an Evan Turner half court swish. Sigh...
When these young players leave I sense a mixture of desperation and excitement. The promise of a base paycheck of over a quarter of a million dollars would ameliorate bills and any other family financial problems nagging in their wake, not to mention a Range Rover or two. However, what is there to getting an education? There are no dollar signs when you write a dissertation - no check for finishing your senior thesis. The allure of cheers and cheddar are quite more appealing if college was simply an irritating stepping stone on your way to the ultimate goal: TV and dollar bills y'all.
Of course I am cynic, and a girl, and will never play professional basketball. I may not even know what it is like to own a Hummer. I do however know what it's like to study for three midterm exams in one week, read a painful autobiography about a lesbian poet, receive no praise for a brilliant press release because I addressed it to the wrong party. What do I know though? If I broke my leg however, I'm quite certain that my diploma won't be less valuable - no decrease in pay if I strain a ligament (although if it were fingers it might be friggin' typing possible!).
So without the diploma, a hypothetical fractured tibia and two seasons of meager results (Odom), what does one fall back on for financial security or spiritual fulfillment? Initially what comes to mind is owning a car dealership, a cell phone business, gambling, or even the prospects of a hip hop career.
I suppose it is just so dicey. Who is right? Probably not me, but my lenses are fogged and biased as I finish up the spring quarter of my college career. I want millions too. With no Gatorade contract in my future however, I suppose I will have to settle with a piece of paper that gets me in the door where others, even former NBA players, might not be able to enter.
