Just passing through

Can college basketball hang on to any of its top talent?

Sports Illustrated senior writer Phil Taylor touches on a Hot Button issue each Monday on CNNSI.com. After you read Phil's take, give us yours.

Unless you're a Stanford basketball fan, the news that Cardinal forward Casey Jacobsen decided to bypass his senior year and remain eligible for this Wednesday's NBA draft probably didn't even cause you to raise an eyebrow. Another kid choosing to chase the dough instead of the diploma is hardly worth a special bulletin these days, and though I happen to like Jacobsen's combination of nearly limitless shooting range and take-it-to-the-hoop fearlessness, his departure from the college scene isn't exactly going to change the balance of power in either the NCAA or NBA.

But Jacobsen's decision is a milestone of sorts, the kind that the powers that be in the college game should be concerned about. When the Casey Jacobsens of the sport begin checking out of their dormitories early, it's time to start wondering if college basketball can expect any of its top-level talent to stay around until graduation day anymore.

This isn't about who Jacobsen is; it's more about who he is not. He is not from a financially strapped family that needs him to start earning an income. He is not a hoops mercenary, a pseudo student taking Comic Book Lit 101 in order to stay eligible. He is not a high school kid who has never been exposed to college and therefore doesn't realize what he's missing. He is not a sure-fire high draft pick, guaranteed a contract with lots of zeroes and commas whether he becomes a star or not.

Jacobsen doesn't fit into any of the usual categories of the early entrants. He was, by all accounts, a decent enough student, on track to graduate from Stanford next June. He enjoyed college life, was a part of a successful program at a prestigious university and didn't have a group of relatives waiting anxiously for him to lift them out of poverty.

Maybe more important than any of that, however, is Jacobsen's status in the eyes of the pros. He might be drafted late in the first round, but it's just as likely that he won't be picked until early in the second, where there will be no sure money handed out. Even if he goes late in the first, he will be guaranteed "only" about $300,000 per season for three years. That's not a bad salary for someone just entering the work force, but it's hardly enough to be set for life.

In essence, Jacobsen is giving up enough to be set for life. In essence, Jacobsen is giving up a Stanford diploma -- yes, he can always go back to school and he says he intends to do so, but as with all athletes, we'll believe it when we see it -- for just the possibility that he'll hit the jackpot (and that's not an especially strong possibility). He's trading in one final year with a good team at a good school in good weather for the chance to be the NBA equivalent of a walk-on. If the college game can't keep players like Jacobsen in school for four years, forget it. The merry-go-round of players passing briefly through college will just keep picking up speed.

That doesn't mean Jacobsen made the wrong choice. Every player's decision is personal, and he has every right to pursue a career in whatever manner he sees fit. But unlike Jay Williams, Mike Dunleavy Jr., Drew Gooden or some of the other early entrants, Jacobsen had at least as many logical reasons to stay in school as he did to leave, and still he chose the pros. If he plays a dozen years in the NBA, ultimately makes big money and never has to work another day in his life we'll be happy for him, but we'll still feel a little sad for the sport. The cold, hard world of big-time college basketball just got a little colder and harder.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Phil Taylor writes about a Hot Button issue every Monday on CNNSI.com.

 

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