The poltergeist inhabiting Jamar Smith's lanky frame looks a lot like the freshman phenom who never missed a shot. But looks are deceiving. That Jamar died, a long time ago.

It's hard for us, his friends, fans, admirers to accept that the younger, vital Jamar is gone, forever. Wraiths, demons, vampires often affect onlookers this way — because they physically resemble the persons they once were.

But if we got today's Jamar on the court, he would disappoint. He would show flashes of brilliance, as he did at the Ubben all summer. He would alternate cold-spells, and moments of seeming ineptitude. His performance would recall to us his sophomore year, when his statistics dipped into human range, then kept falling.

"What I didn't want to do, and made clear to CBS, is to have any of that take attention away from the games or players — it isn't about Billy Packer."

False modesty? That's up to you to decide.

"They had to move in a direction for their future. And it made a lot of sense to me. This is good for both parties."

Could this possibly be true? Well, even a paid court side seat for the Final Four gets old after a while. (I think. I'd be interested in finding out for myself.) Besides, Billy Packer is not a sports fan. That's just one of many, many weird aspects of the man.

It's a slow week for the casual basketball observer. July may be the most important month in the business, but major happenings affect only those in the business. The rest of us, barring a sudden interest in Jungian philosophy, or shaving a few pounds off our fat asses, are forced to find non-news to grumble about.

I gather the biggest non-story still chafing the yokels, possibly even disrupting the Klan meetings of rural southern Indiana regards Bruce Weber's offhand comment to a luncheon of Illini supporters: He predicted the Hoosiers will suck this year.

Efrem Winters may, or may not be the all-time career leader in the often under reported Illinois Men's Basketball impressive leg muscles category. These days, it's hard to tell. You can't actually see the athletes' legs anymore.

Since the mid-90s, college basketball has endured the thrall of a restrictive, totalitarian regime which requires athletes to hide their bodies in baggy, bulky, flowing robes.

John Calipari sits on a beach somewhere, frenetically thumbing a Blackberry; oblivious to the crashing waves, the gulls, the delightful salty breeze. The summer recruiting season opened this weekend. Family, friends and ice cold bottles of Corona don't stand a chance of getting Cal's attention.

Last week, he was forbidden from calling recruits, because the first half of June is a period when the NCAA wants kids to do other things besides talking to coaches — final exams, perhaps.

In our culture, there's enormous pressure to buy new things.

Q: Where does that pressure come from?
A: People who sell new things.

Keeping up with the latest trends, keeping up with the Joneses, keeping current. What's in style this season? No one wants to look like a square. Out with the old and in with the new.

It doesn't matter that you already have everything you need. We all know someone who routinely throws out an entire houseful of furniture, or suffers Chronic Urgent Remodeling Syndrome Epidemic (CURSE). Car salesmen effectively embarrass nervous, materialistic social climbers every year.

Individuals in positions of authority — especially those positions critical to our survival, such as President of the United States and Illinois Men's Basketball coach — are incessantly pestered with irrelevant questions from idiots. For some reason we, the public, allow these interrogatory distractions. Worse, we expect the dummies to get their answers.

But we can't get those answers. Presidential candidates are silenced de facto from speaking honestly, or at length — knowing they will only be ridiculed in the tabloid press. Basketball coaches are prohibited from speaking de jure — specifically, the jure of the NCAA.

As the Illinois made its run to the Big Ten Tournament Championship this March, the team was focused on British cartoon characters of the early 20th Century.

Before the tournament, coach Bruce Weber sat the team down for a motivational viewing of Randy Pausch's last lecture, which among other things, extolled the virtues of Tigger.

I guess when you're young, it's easier to watch movies without constantly questioning the director's motives, the lack of script continuity, or significant lapses in credibility. Suspension of disbelief is not required for the young, because the young believe in everything.

For example, I liked Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom when I was thirteen. But when I was thirteen, I didn't demand that plots make sense. I didn't really demand plots, actually. I'm older now, and jaded.

I watched Temple of Doom the other day. It's terrible.