As much hand-wringing and moralizing as we have endured over the past few days as concerns l'affaire K, what we know for sure is one thing: $40 million over five years isn't enough money to make Mike Krzyzewski work for Kobe Bryant.
Now he says he is a Dukie through and through, but he did spend five days wondering just how Dukie Dukie is -- or maybe he was just wallowing in the bliss of national leverage, which is the best kind of leverage there is.
And maybe the Lakers just didn't meet his price. I mean, what if they came in at $10 large a year, or $12 large, or $15? At that point, he would be the Lakers' biggest expenditure, and would have the hammer that no other coach has had since Red Auerbach roamed the earth.
But we're past that now. The Lakers are still without a coach, and while most people think the job now reverts to an experienced pro, there are still other richly qualified college coaches out there who could take orders from Bryant (which eliminates Bob Knight), and at a lot less money (which eliminates Bob Knight).
I mean, we all had a week's worth of fun watching Krzyzewski on vacation driving the national debate club, and we've got nothing else to do between now and the Rudy Tomjanovich announcement, so bring on some names, if only just for fun:
Tubby Smith: He's had feelers before, he hasn't won the national title in years now (well, three), and Kentucky fans are every bit as persnickety as Laker fans, except that they stay until the end to make sure Tubby hears their opinions. Contract terms: Four years, $20 million.
Billy Donovan: Rings down the Pat Riley comparisons ("God, look at that hair. He's the spitting image, I tell you"), and the Lakers need to go back to their roots after the clearly failed Phil Jackson experiment. Contract terms: Three years, $12 million.
Mike Brey: Krzyzewski Lite. Contract terms: Three years, $12 million.
Phil Martelli: Philly guy (as the first incarnation of Bryant was), can make media types lick a barbecue grill clean with his smile, and seems utterly unfazeable even by Celebrity Row. Contract terms: Four years, $14 million.
Bob Huggins: Runs an NBA-style program as it is, and once he straightens out his demon inventory, may well be looking to uncouple himself from the madcap Cincinnati lifestyle. Contract terms: Three years, $10.5 million.
Jim Boeheim: He'd hate it, the Laker fans would hate him, and the last living man who can defend Syracuse without worrying about the backlash would be gone. On the other hand, Boeheim with a tan ... priceless. They'd really have to make it worth his while, though. Five years, $15 million.
Larry Eustachy: For one, there's no penalty for kissing a college-age girl with the Lakers (none of that difficult Ames morality here). For two, he knows how to leave well enough alone. For three, he'd jump at the chance. Contract terms: Three years, $4.5 million.
Or maybe out-of-work is the way to go here. I mean, why create any potential problems with Bryant when one can avoid that problematic "I love it here too much" claptrap.
Dean Smith: Duke guy turns down job, Carolina guy takes it. Sort of Inside Tobacco Road for this sort of gig, but Dean-O's always up for a challenge, even from troublemakers like Medvedenko and Rush. Contract terms: Five years, $39,999,999.
John Thompson: Sports talk radio and TV analysis seems rather a waste of his gifts, and he'd be a match for Bryant at his most Kobe-istic. It'd be fun watching anyway. Contract terms: Three years, $9 million.
Rick Majerus: Almost back to full fighting shape, and ready to play a Stevie Ray Vaughan medley with his arteries. Knows it, talks it, and won't have any of that troublesome my-way/highway issues in a town where all the voting stock is held by the shooting guard. Three years, $7.5 million.
Gene Keady: Not out yet at Purdue, but his brief flirtation with USF suggests that he might be soon. Contract terms: Three years, $4 million.
Mike Jarvis: New York didn't work out, but L.A. does takeout all the time. Three years, $3 million.
Jim O'Brien: In the NBA, you can buy over-the-counter Croatians, and nobody thinks twice about it. Three years, $2.25 million.
Jan van Breda Kolff: His dad is remembered as the Lakers coach who sat Wilt Chamberlain in the late stages of Bill Russell's last championship, so avenging the family honor will allow Jerry Buss to take some money off the top. Contract terms: One year, $750,000 -- just because.
And finally ...
Steve Lavin: The irony of the much reviled ex-UCLA coach returning at the one more highly prized SoCal hoop job is rich enough, but it would also take him off America's long list for other coaching vacancies, thereby giving us all a badly needed break. Contract terms: One year, or $1,000,000, which ever comes first.
Ray Ratto is a columnist with the San Francisco Chronicle and a regular contributor to ESPN.com