The bad guys in the Henry-Kansas basketball story wear suits, office in Indianapolis and New York and support the outdated and immoral rules that protect CBS&rsquo; billion-dollar investment in and the NBA&rsquo;s unholy alliance with big-time college hoops.</p><p>Carl Henry isn&rsquo;t a bad guy, or even some crazy &ldquo;stage parent.&rdquo;</p><p>Xavier and C.J. Henry are no more spoiled than any other elite-level athlete.</p><p>Bill Self isn&rsquo;t some win-at-all-cost mercenary because he maintains a healthy interest in having the Henry boys visit Lawrence before pursuing professional careers.</p><p>Kansas hoops fans did not reveal their sense of entitlement by reacting negatively to a Kansas City Star article that accurately portrayed the Henry family&rsquo;s desire to be one-and-done at Allen Fieldhouse.</p><p>And Brady McCollough certainly isn&rsquo;t some rabble-rousing columnist-in-waiting looking to paint the Henry family as selfish and loony.</p><p>No, the bad guys work for the NCAA and NBA commissioner David Stern. They&rsquo;re the cowards afraid to fix a system that is obviously broken.</p><p>Many talented basketball players want the same freedom enjoyed by tennis, hockey, baseball, golf and other athletic players. They want to pursue their chosen profession in America at the moment their talents can lure a contract. Not after the NCAA and CBS have milked them for cash. Not after the NBA is satisfied they&rsquo;ve been sufficiently hyped by Dick Vitale.</p><p>Please, let&rsquo;s stop the name-calling for just a minute. I&rsquo;ve read the &ldquo;controversial&rdquo; interviews and The Star story that drove the controversy. Carl Henry doesn&rsquo;t strike me as a prima donna raising two prima donna sons.</p><p>Carl comes off as far too honest, a little thin-skinned, and I&rsquo;m not at all surprised that Kansas fans can&rsquo;t handle the truth. Few people with a passion for college sports can handle the truth about college football and basketball.</p><p>The kids don&rsquo;t want to be there. It doesn&rsquo;t matter how pretty the campus is or how historic the arena or how good the team&rsquo;s chance is at winning the national title.</p><p>For the participants, college hoops lost its cool points.</p><p>Pushing a Maybach, sporting the most dazzling ice and making it rain inside America&rsquo;s top strip clubs long ago replaced hitting on the finest girls from Delta Sigma Theta and Xi Omega during psychology class.</p><p>You can grind your teeth and reminisce about how much better things used to be, but you&rsquo;re not going to make kids (or their parents) buy into the current system. It&rsquo;s a farce.</p><p>It&rsquo;s the equivalent of asking everyone to throw away their cell phones and laptops and start communicating again through handwritten letters.</p><p>Letters are great, a superior way of conveying what you really think. The pace of letter exchanges also contributes to relationship stability. </p><p>But we&rsquo;re a microwave society. We all want things right now. Patience is a virtue we admire in others, appreciate when we luck into demonstrating it and a real annoyance most days. </p><p>It appears Carl and Barbara Henry spent the last two decades cultivating the athletic and mental evolution of their two sons, in hopes that Xavier and C.J. would rise higher athletically than their parents. </p><p>That&rsquo;s what I took from the story about the Henrys. Xavier and C.J. are not on KU&rsquo;s campus this summer because Carl trusts himself and a personal trainer more than he does the Kansas coaching staff.</p><p>Makes perfect sense to me. Carl was an accomplished basketball player. His instincts and direction turned Xavier into a potential NBA lottery pick and C.J. into a first-round pick as a baseball player and a big-time hoops prospect. Carl knows Xavier and C.J best. Carl sounds like Earl Woods with actual playing experience.