It's one of those things you really don't think you'll ever hear: Florida, national college basketball champions. Not as unlikely as "George Mason, Final Four team,'' but who really thought Florida would win it all? Or, at least, thought that before Final Four weekend.

I'm guessing that my blog partner over at Medium Well will address this in more detail - or should - but CBS really does a brutal job with the post-game interviews. As we in the press work room gathered around the TVs to watch the interviews - unfortunately, because those are often the only quotes we can get into the paper by deadline - we saw and heard Jim Nance and Billy Packer drone on with ultra-long questions to coach Billy Donovan, and listen to his slow, deliberate answers. The players, meanwhile, were gathered around them, goofing off, making crazy exclamations and showing the kind of joy you'd expect the newly-crowned college champs to make, the sort of thing you think America would enjoy seeing and hearing. But if either Nance or Packer asked one coherent question of any of them - particularly Joakim Noah, the Most Outstanding Player - none of us heard it.

The reason: the unrestrained love for the coach in college ball, at the expense of the players. Packer does it, Vitale does, Digger does it, all of them do it. They lionize the coaches, and treat the players like disposable parts. It's why you keep hearing things like, "An incredible 20-5 run by Coach K and Duke!'' as if he had seven points and three rebounds during the spurt.

By following that tired script, they shortchanged the viewers on the real heroes of the night - not Billy Donovan and how he built the program over a span of several years, but Noah and Taurean Green and Lee Humphrey and Al Horford, who won the game.

As for the game itself, you saw it. If you were a coach and weep at the sight of solid fundamentals and textbook defensive principles, you loved it. In all honesty, Noah's domination, the way he altered UCLA's shots and thus the way they ran every offensive possession, was spellbinding. But this won't exactly go down in history as a gem, and it couldn't possibly have made for great television. It was even hard to get worked up about the UCLA return-to-glory angle, because they practically fell into the Final Four from out of nowhere, and the U obviously stood for "Uglyball'' this season. Florida, meanwhile, won the way most teams have with the exception of North Carolina last year: restock as best as you can and hope the youngsters jell at the right time. Florida can talk all it wants about getting no respect early in the season or in the middle, but their whole season came down to the sophomores, like Noah, Horford and Green, finding their legs at the end of the season, at tournament time.

That's why, regardless of what everyone says about George Mason being a fluke, no one can say that the mid-majors aren't going to push the big schools to the wire in the tournament from now on.

Ultimately, the three games here this weekend were pretty much devoid of great drama, and the story lines that did evolve weren't completely compelling. Noah's progress will be intriguing to follow, but it's not like there's an overwhelming belief that the next Jabbar or Hakeem or anything close to that is in the making. Florida might repeat next year if the conditions are right - and they might go back to losing in the second round under the same conditions.

Who knows?

It really is time to put the men's season to bed. The women's final truly might be better to watch. Speaking of which, anyone figure out what the hell Ivory Latta was thinking on that final play of the Maryland game, with that Ron Artest impression? Shouldn't anyone else be bothered by her body-slamming a player out of frustration in the final seconds of a Final Four loss? Aaaah, maybe it was just me.