Over on NBC, Dr. Chen euthanized her father on "ER." On ESPN, the powers-that-be did their best to kill the sport of basketball.

In the worldwide leader's primetime slot, the head honchos decided to broadcast a high school basketball game on ESPN2 because it featured two blue-chippers. Seven-footer Greg Oden, a junior at Lawrence North in Indianapolis, was pitted against Tyler Hansbrough, of Poplar Bluff in southeastern Missouri -- who pumps in 32 a game, and will play next year at North Carolina.

I boycotted every second of the telecast.

Oden is being billed as the next Shaquille O'Neal. Why can't he be the first Greg Oden? Do you think that Magic Johnson wanted to be the next Oscar Robertson? Did Michael Jordan want to be the next Dr. J? Was O'Neal trying to be like Wilt Chamberlain?

Well, maybe he wanted to compare black books with the Stilt, so Shaq could call himself the Big Conquistador. But when it came to basketball, O'Neal established his own identity.

My point is let these kids be kids. Too much pressure, too fast, is being laid on the shoulders of young men. They may have a 250-pound frame, but they have a teenage mind.

The legendary John Wooden, arguably the greatest basketball teacher of all time, used to say, "Be quick, but don't hurry."

And what is the hurry? Why can't these kids get out of high school before microphones, agents and mega-million dollar contracts are shoved into their face? These boys should be experiencing the thrill of receiving a note from a beautiful, young co-ed. They should be worrying about how they are going to fake the fact that they read the "Tale of Two Cities."

Instead, these 17 and 18-year-olds are worrying about Nike, Adidas or Reebok. Or whether or not Jim Gray is going to hound them into admitting they cheated on their Math test.

My mother used to warn me not to try to grow up too fast as I tagged along and copied my older brother's every move. I never listened, thought I was playing an adult on TV. My life now is more like theatre, and I just landed the lead role in Peter Pan -- flying around looking for Neverland.

Paging Dr. Freud.

If you think that I'm being too moralistic and am out of touch from reality, then fine. But how about the overall effect that "too much-too fast" has had on the quality of the game?

Take a look at the boxscores from the last two nights in the NBA. Rashard Lewis, straight out of high school, scored 25 points on 9-of-21 shooting. Kobe Bryant, hailing from Lower Merion prep, scored 20 points on 7-of-23 from the field and Zach Randolph, who did two years at Michigan State, was 8-of-25 for 22 points. Nine teams in the last two days scored less than 90 points.

That's not good.

On a nightly basis, SportsCenter divvies up the NBA docket into three-minute highlight segments. They usually exist of three or four dunks, a three-pointer and maybe, a behind-the-back pass. You aren't making the show if you hit a cutter with a bounce pass after he got free from a back screen.

If you want to make the top-ten plays avoid: taking a charge, forcing a bad shot (Most guys these days don't need any help), getting your hand in the passing lane, boxing out, moving without the ball, getting in a proper defensive stance, throwing the ball off an opponents' knee to avoid going out of bounds, or hitting a mid-range jumper.

Fundamentals are dead.

In fairness to ESPN, they are not the only detractors to the game. There are agents, shoe companies, David Stern, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James and the other handful of players who were successful straight out of high school. They are the exception, not the rule. Just ask Kwame Brown and Eddy Curry. Where is the pride? Sure, they've made millions and their lives are fine, but their game is terrible.

Somewhere, Yakov Smirnoff is sucking down chocolate martinis and saying, "What a country."

Shortly before Ron Artest -- the poster-boy for not leaving school early -- bombarded into the stands and left America's mouth hanging, he was suspended by the Pacers for "conduct detrimental to the integrity of the team." That first suspension was because he asked for time off to promote his rap record. During that controversy, a reporter asked him his thoughts on his punishment. Artest, serious as a triple-bypass, said he would comment on the ordeal "if he knew what integrity meant."

It was good to see that his two years at St. John's University were well spent. Maybe the NBA's new slogan should be "The league that don't know integrity."

Let's start encouraging these big-time recruits to go to school for four years, enjoy that time and learn how to play the game the right way. Let them learn from Coach K, Rick Majerus, John Chaney, Bob Knight, Gene Keady, Roy Williams, or some other fantastic tutor that reigns at one of the top-notch universities.

Go to school for four years, develop an all-around game and get a degree to fall back on in case you blow your knee out during your first run through the Texas triangle. Become a well-rounded person and enjoy yourself like Bill Walton, Bill Bradley or Charles Barkley. The other night on television, Majerus pointed to Tim Duncan as the ultimate example. Duncan took the time under Dave Odom at Wake Forest to develop into the premiere player in the country.

Duncan took the time to elevate towards captaincy. And he took the time to become a leader. Duncan now has two rings at the next level and is the best player in the NBA.

Yet, Stern and his people choose to market the NBA with Bryant, Allen Iverson and Lebron James because Duncan isn't flashy. He throws bounce passes, sets picks and hits 15-footers off the backboard. Bryant is a selfish, egomaniacal one-on-one player who is running the Lakers' franchise into the ground. Iverson would rather hang out in a Philadelphia Houlihan's than have to go to practice. And King (Of what?) James is a freakish athlete who hasn't made the playoffs yet.

If you're not going to listen to me, then heed the advice of Coach Wooden. Be quick, but don't hurry.

Or maybe I should fall off my high horse, watch the games in silent indifference and surrender to a losing battle.

Paging Dr. Kwan.