The NCAA Final Four left me feeling unsatisfied, to say the least.

It was Rocky training to fight Apollo, but retiring the night before so Adrian won’t give him a hard time anymore about injuries; a 9 inning slugfest, rained out in the bottom of the inning with bases loaded and David Ortiz up to bat in a tie ball game; “the Sixth Sense” without finding out Willis was a ghost.

Florida destroyed Mason. UCLA stomped all over LSU. Florida chomped through UCLA’s defense, offense, and Joakim Noah took over the Bruins cheerleaders. That, my friend, is complete and utter dominance.

Not to deny the champs, but there are only so many uncompetitive games one hoops fan can handle, especially in a month boasting of its madness.

Don’t get me wrong, the upsets were there (The only person I knew who picked Mason to get to the Final Four was, subsequently, a woman at my job who beat me by one point in our bracket pool). But the anticlimactic finishes in the Final Four made me reassess my dedication to spring hoops.

And then the NBA Playoffs – without MJ even – saved me.

Thanks to a King, Laker, Bell, Wiz, and a Sun, I have exciting basketball to watch after all!

Let’s get rid of the series already completed:

• Dallas blew through Memphis so fast we didn’t have nearly enough time to make enough Cast Away jokes at Paol Gasol. “Wiiiiillllsssoooon!!!”
  
• Detroit beat up on Milwaukee. When the Pistons weren’t dominating the game, they were either a) preserving the health of the starting 5, (b) allowing Michael Redd and TJ Ford to show off their range, in an open audition to one day join the best team in the East (c) adhering to the NBA’s super secret demand for teams to make it seem like games are competitive.
• “The Los Angeles Clippers advanced to the second round over the Denver Nuggets!” Finally that line isn’t a sarcastic poke at the Hollywood second-tier team! I’m shocked, but the ugliest hoop star with mad skills, Sam Cassell, knew he’d make it happen when he joined up with the team no longer a punch line.

Now for the series that are exciting, but the outcome is written in stone:

• San Antonio took a few losses to Sacramento, by Bonzi Wells cooking them up for big plays, but in the end, after watching Ginobli get to the basket whenever he wants for a lay-up, how could they possibly not win this series?
• Miami is hot and cold on any given day against a very good and very young Chicago squad. But one thing even the Bulls cannot match up against, even with Air Gordon on their squad, is the man who cannot stay down after a fall – DWade. Not to mention that out of shape 7-footer who brings it annually in the playoffs.
• New Jersey and the Vince Show are up 3-2 on an injured Indiana squad. Critics called for a Jersey-size upset. In the end they’ll be wrong. No matter how “soft” these same critics think Carter is, his Game 5 proved otherwise.

Now, here’s my extended breakdown of the two best series so far, based on great hoop-play, match-ups with their own plots and subplots and ongoing storylines:

Washington Wizards vs. Cleveland Cavaliers
Lebron “King” James, in his first career playoff series, leads his Cavaliers against NBA All Star Game fill-in and fourth-league-leading scorer Gilbert Arenas and the Washington Wizards, who find themselves in the playoffs for a second consecutive year – the first time since the 80s.

“The Chosen One,” “King James,” and an Egyptian idol-sized billboard outside Cleveland’s arena that reads “We Are All Witnesses” indicate Lebron’s handle ove NBA fan attention. Expectations tend to be a tad bit higher when your first recruiters start scouting you in middle school.

Arenas nearly got snubbed in the All Star game. Only an injury to Jermaine O’Neal opened up a spot on the ASG roster for the Wizards’ star guard. He’s played like that chip on his shoulder hasn’t bothered him since, especially in the last quarters of every series game so far.

And this series has not disappointed. It may have, in fact, surprised those outside of the Washington area (yes, including Cleveland), and become the most exciting of them all. The Wizards’ “Big 3” – Arenas, Antuan Jamison, and Caron Butler – take the Wizards as far as they have gone, and will go. Bonus points to Jared Jeffries for seeming to be the only consistent defender, with Butler in a close second. But any team who lets the best player on the other team, “The Chosen One” himself, get the ball with less than 5 seconds left and make his way to the basket for a game winning lay-up deserves all the speculation about their D that they’ve received this year.

Forget “Lebron Rules” to win Game 6, if the Wizards would just play a little bit of D they can beat the Cavs’ one-man show.

This would be the considered one of the greatest series of all-time if it were further in the playoffs. It’s James vs. Arenas, night in and night out, putting up points in regulation, overtime, and they have yet to disappoint.

But if last game were any indication, the Wizards’ lackluster defense could be the determining factor in Game 6 on Friday.

I hope that if Cleveland gets the ball in the final minutes, the “Big 3” needs to step up and defend this time around and not just “witness” their championship hopes dwindle.

Los Angeles Lakers vs. Phoenix Suns
The equivalent in a battle of bands would be one badass lead singer head-to-head against another, as their respective bands rock out in the background.

It’s “Kobe and the Lake Show” facing “Nash and the Fast & Fun Bunch.”

Additionally, this is also a battle for MVP – aspiring (Kobe) versus reigning (Nash). Reports are that Nash already secured his second MVP title in as many years, but if Kobe wants to lay down some leverage for next year’s voters, this would be a perfect time to do so. Kudos to Kobe for thinking ahead and posterizing Nash early on, just to get that “I’m bigger and better” note passed along to next year’s MVP voters who may need a tie-breaker to refer back to.

As if at that isn’t enough to keep this an intriguing match-up, Game 5 was more like a Round 5 of a wrestling match ending in a Phoenix win, despite Raja Bell’s ejection for a WWE Rock-like hook and slam on superstar Bryant. The two battled all night, as Bell pulled the short straw and attempted to guard Kobe all night. Kobe scored 29 with 5 turnovers, and Phoenix prevailed, winning by 17.

Bell on Kobe: “I have no respect for him. I think he’s a pompous, arrogant individual.”
Kobe on Bell, “Maybe he wasn’t hugged enough as a kid, I don’t know.”

I’ll place my money on a repeat flagrant and maybe a few actual boxing blows thrown in Game 7, assuming Phoenix steps it up and takes out the Lake show tonight in LA.

Additionally, since the Clippers defeated the Nuggets, the Lakers face pressure the size of one of the largest cities.

It’s a Battle for Los Angeles (cue the Rage Against the Machine album) and the Lakers must win. It doesn’t matter who is better than whom. The match-up here is the Lakers’ playoff history is on the line versus the Clippers’ lack thereof for over a decade or so.
If Kobe knows what’s good for he and the purple and yellow outfit rockers, he’ll come through and motivate Smush on the snares, Lamar on guitar and Walton on backup electric guitar, and old Wiz-bust (bitter hometown shot, I know) Kwame on the bass to seal the deal while they’ve got the series lead 3-2.

But Steve Nash isn’t one for standing down when his squad is down. Look at him. He stands at about 6 feet tall. He got dunked on by a 6’8” Kobe. Yet the next game he slid back into his old ways of shooting, passing and penetrating the D, helping the Fast and Fun Bunch fight back for a last few breaths. To earn his MVP for sure, he needs to finally take his Suns to the big dance. Don’t count the feisty Canadian out just yet.

When Maine wide receiver Kevin McMahan’s name echoed throughout Radio City Hall, fans booed.

No one outside of Maine has a clue who Kevin McMahan is. They just know who he is not.

He is not who the crowd spent the previous ten minutes chanted for. The same player who, at that same moment, was most likely either: (a) sitting at home booing the television, (b) sitting at home crying his eyes out, or (c) both.

“Mar-cus Vick! Mar-cus Vick! Mar-cus Vick!”

I heard the crowd chant seated on a couch.

So did “Mar-cus Vick!”

Or maybe he sat in a recliner. I cannot confirm.

The difference between Marcus Vick and I is simple. I am human and he is not.

Neither is his older brother, Michael.

The two are of a different mold.

They’re more like Dali and Da Vinci; the Mona Lisa and The Last Supper; Gale Sayers and Bo Jackson. They’re Howard Hughes ideas; simply far too ahead of their time.

Running, passing and wow-ing the audience are all things a Vick can do from birth. If you’ve seen older brother Michael play, imagine more accuracy and slightly less speed, and then you know the potential of younger brother Marcus.

Why, then, didn’t Marcus cash in like his older brother when draft day came around?

In the 2001 NFL Draft, Michael Vick became the number 1 overall pick and signed the largest rookie contract in NFL history at the time – 6 years, $62 million, including $15.3 million guaranteed through the first three years and an initial signing bonus of $3 million.

In the 2006 NFL Draft, Marcus Vick’s name was nowhere to be found in Radio City Hall outside of the chants.

And to think, he’s of the same bloodline as the amazing, one-man traveling show based in Atlanta.

The difference between Marcus and Michael is simple – Michael made better choices.

Michael’s wrap sheet doesn’t read the same as Marcus’s – an arrest for providing alcohol to three underage girls, an arrest for reckless driving and possession of marijuana, flipping off West Virginia fans in Morgantown, and stomping on Louisville D-tackle Elvis Dumervil’s leg with his cleated foot in the 2006 Gator Bowl.

It’s no wonder NFL scouts quickly wrote off Marcus, with all of his talents, as too high a risk.

On a sheet of paper crumpled up in a trash bin of a draft war room the top item on the “Vick, Marcus” folder most likely read the two most expensive words young Vick has ever encountered.

Written atop the pages – not necessarily in scarlet, but just as piercing as the letters worn by Hester Prynne in the famous Nathaniel Hawthorne story – is “Character issues,” one of the most expensive phrases ever.

Once the label is placed upon an aspiring athlete such, they lose money; some thousands, some millions.

Marcus Vick lost millions.

Along with the label of character issues come comparisons to Maurice Clarett, the former Ohio State running back who went from potential NFL great to poor attempted robber. Surely not the comparison “Mike Vick part 2″ envisioned for the days leading up to the draft.

That same phrase caused UCS All-American offensive tackle Winston Justice to slide from the first round to the second, at number 39, despite his rating as the number two player at his position.

Jimmy Williams, a Virginia Tech cornerback, received the same label and slid from a potential first round pick to a second rounder at 37 overall.

And Claude Wroten, the LSU defensive tackle, went from potential first-rounder to 68th overall after a January arrest and charge of possession of marijuana and intent to distribute charges later dropped because of a lack of evidence and questions of the legality of the search.

The list goes on and on.

College athletes hold a lot of clout for their abilities, but as with most things in life, there are limits. NFL teams are finally cutting off the easy route for players who feel they can get away with what they want off the field.

NFL players are team investments. Salaries aren’t cheap. This year’s number 1 pick, Mario Williams, the defensive tackle out of North Carolina State, signed a rookie deal worth $54 million over 6 years, with $26.5 million guaranteed.

That’s too much money to invest in a player who can’t make the right decisions when he’s not a multi-millionaire. The year of Lawrence Phillips-like players passed millions of dollars ago.

So Kevin McMahan, the 2006 winner of the Mr. Irrelevant award, is a fraud.

Let Marcus Vick take his family to Newport Beach. Let him receive the Lowsman Trophy. Let him receive a roast, offering advice as how to make it in the NFL.

Among the list of material would be:

• Check IDs before supplying alcohol to girls claiming to be in college
• Be like Gaylord Focker and “pass on grass”
• Leave flipping of fans to trained professionals – like Jake Plummer
• The next time a future NFL D-lineman makes a tackle, don’t stomp his leg. Simply get up and run away quickly because in the NFL players are bigger, faster, and stronger. And they stomp back.

Check the NFL coaches’ player boards. No one is more irrelevant right now than Marcus Vick.