For the past ten days, I have been on UCLA's campus, fulfilling a contractual obligation to be a faculty advisor for some very talented high school scholars preparing to enter medical school.

And like some kind of bizarro world revenge for having a committed Trojan spending time in enemy territory, I silently and painfully watched a slow exodus of players streaming from USC.

First there was Seantrel Henderson, a fabulous talent whose physical prowess may not overcome a woeful lack of integrity (and a very strange father to boot).

Then Malik Jackson was next. A nice player whose career at USC appeared destined to hold down the bench, as he was mired in a numbers game that included players far more talented than he.
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