...in this day and age is difficult. I understand, and appreciate, that the huge salaries available to young athletes are what drives many, if not most, of them. Obviously, KL has pointed toward the NBA since he was a little kid and I rather doubt that he grew up, shooting baskets in the driveway while fantasizing that he was scoring the winning basket for UCLA in the final game. Now he’ll don a jersey that might or might not mean anything to him other than the hefty paycheck he’s getting. Good for him.

I don’t know what Coach Howland offers to his recruits. It might simply be top-flight coaching and direct connections to the NBA. CBH might include some academic information for the parents – if THAT’S what they’re interested in – but I suspect that no promises are made, either by Coach or the student-athletes, regarding a time commitment. Athletic scholarships are worth a great deal of money at this level. The access to training facilities, room and board, tuition, athletic gear, and more, represents a commitment of resource made to the student-athlete that is, these days, set aside with little thought by the student-athlete when they are about to become wealthy young people. And as realistically unreasonable as it is, my wish would be that potential UCLA student-athletes make a commitment (NOT one and done) of at least two years to the program, with a dedication to completing their degree program in the ‘near future.’ While I realize that UCLA would miss out on a lot of talented young people, I would rather that all of our student-athletes commit to completing their university education before moving on.

Once you offer the scholarship and the kid accepts it, you spell out the rights and obligations of each side in a written document which we lawyers call a “contract” (there’s a story behind that phrase which I’ll tell later).

The K (that was for Nestor) would say that the kid is obligated to stay for four years. Then when he drops out of school in anticipation of being drafted, the school sues the NBA for interference with prospective economic advantage, inducing breach of contract, wrongful death (well, maybe not wrongful death, but something just as bad.)

Suing the NBA would surely cause them to rescind their rules and draft kids out of high school. OK, NBA, do it, so what? What does any ncaa school owe the NBA, anyway? Let them draft kids right out of high school. But once a kid and a school have made mutual committments, if the allure of the NBA money causes a kid to drop out, then the NBA ought to pony up and repay the school for the costs the school invested in the kid.

Quick story, which I promise is absolutely true, about “What we lawyers call….” Quite a few years ago, I was second chairing a trial in downtown LA, in front of a judge (who’s still there) who was VERY defense oriented, which was good because we were defending. It was a slip and fall, but a death case, so it was serious business. We moved to bifurcate, which the Court granted, noting that “The last 46 (or 23 or some other big number) of slip and fall cases in my courtroom have resulted in defense verdicts.” I slipped a note to the other lawyer and said we should waive jury. Somehow, about 30 seconds later, the plaintiff’s lawyer decided that it would be desireable for him to waive jury under these circumstances. The judge then said “You may proceed, Mr. Plaintiff.” At which point this kid stood up, whipped off his glasses in dramatic fashion, and said. “Thank you, Your Honor. I’m now going to do what we lawyers call an “opening statement.” It’s sort of a road map ….” The judge’s eyes made a noise when he rolled them back. Everyone else had to bite a rawhide strip to keep from laughing. Two days later the judge granted our 631.8 motion. And to this day, I can’t help saying things like “I’m now going to sit down in what we lawyers call a “chair.”

Hint about the judge. When he talks about a status conference, the word status has a long a.