With a tattered net sheathed around his neck late Monday night, Juan Dixon was inducted into a very select fraternity. His magnificent performance in this year’s tournament is certainly on par with any six-game showcases from college hoop legends Danny Manning, Christian Laettner and even Bill Walton. Dixon averaged 26 points a game, was stellar on defense and was the spark plug that the Terps needed every time they appeared lifeless. He’s the reason they’ll meet the president.

With all those gaudy numbers, who wouldn’t take notice? With a telegenic face and a life story that screams inspiration, there’s no doubt that the camera should be in love with this underdog that did.

So why when the clock struck zero were all the CBS lenses focused on Gary Williams, the coach? Why was it Williams who shared in the cheers with Digger Phelps and Dick Vitale on ESPN’s post-game show? Does America really want a fiery coach in a blue blazer over the guy in the shorts hitting the open three?

Apparently, old white guys with whistles are the in crowd in college hoops, and as a brand for the game, it’s only going to proliferate.

In the past five or so years, there have been many controversies that have been popular hot-buttons in sports. Baseball contraction, NFL instant replay, hockey violence and the BCS’ “fuzzy” mathematics have all been popular mud-slinging subject matters, but none of them can hold a candle to the early exodus of college players to the NBA.

In the next couple of weeks, expect a few drops and then a waterfall of under-agers proclaiming they want to fulfill their dreams and take their games to the next level. Talents such as Jared Jeffries and Marcus Taylor have teased us with their skills in the Big Ten, but are saving their money shots for the NBA. Like it or not, two years and gone is a current reality of the game, and it’s here to stay.

So where does college basketball go to save its soul? Is the public ready for shameless promoting of mop-tops like Dan Dickau and Luke Ridnour? Does the game need charismatic figures the likes of Ebie Ere and Mario Austin to make us tune in? Is Troy Bell the answer to our prayers?

It is both fortunate and unfortunate that the answers are all a resounding negative. College basketball, more than any other sport, can ground its popularity and image from the faces in the coaching box. Players come and go, yet coaches are the constant reminder of the past and future of the game. I’ve had the opportunity to cover a great deal of games in my day, and for all the bone-crushing back screens and the money elbow jump shots, it is the coaches that personify college basketball.

When you can hear Roy Williams and Tom Izzo whine at the refs, the recent history of the game comes rushing back to you. When Mike Krzyzewski and Rick Majerus are shaking hands after the game, it signifies the summit of the great minds of the game. And without any rival, when the teams are warming up and you see a strolling Bobby Knight in whatever light you may, you know that you are truly at a college basketball game; this is college basketball in all its glory.

Granted, the same is true for college football, where a hound’s-tooth cap, large dark sunglasses or an overly livid Lou Holtz are all staples of Saturday afternoons in the fall. But basketball differs, as the allure and the track record of success for college coaches in the NBA pales in comparison to the NFL, no matter what Mike Davis believes. While college football coaches are always on the block for NFL jobs, college hoops coaches are, for the most part, lifers. Honestly, could you ever see John Chaney jumping at a chance to coach Rasheed Wallace?

More than ever, it is important that college basketball coaches not only be teachers, but that they become the charismatic leaders and spokesmen for the game. The last 10 years has seen the exits of icons and symbol college hoops: the towels of John Thompson and Jerry Tarkanian, the sweaters of Lou Carnaseca, the constantly clenched expression on the face of Dean Smith and, of course, the perpetual frustration of Dick Bennett. In the next five seasons, Lute Olson, Eddie Sutton and Jim Boehiem will certainly be exiting the stage for the golf course.

The onus is now on the young coaches to not only advance the talent that does choose to stay on campus, but to also develop personalities that sell their school and the game as a whole. Steve Alford and Billy Donovan won’t be able to grease the hair up forever, so they might as well get a shtick. Quinn Snyder can’t live on the “I’ve been up for four days” look of bemusement much longer, so he should throw more tantrums. I know for a fact that Bill Self can certainly be more entertaining than he puts on, I hope.

Although it is important for coaches to be characters, it still is — and always will be — a player’s game. I’m sure Majerus can entertain the toughest audience with Xs and Os, but most rational people would pass on watching him in gym shorts. It’s the dunks and defense of the players that bring fans to the arenas, but it’s the personalities of the coaches that keep them coming back.