Before we begin, it's probably important to hammer home that I don't believe O.J. Mayo or Rodney Guillory or USC or anyone, really, is blameless in the now-certain cheating that surrounded USC's basketball program this year. It's pretty obvious that Mayo was complicit in the scandal, that Tim Floyd probably knew something was up but stuck his head in the parquet, and that everyone around the program could have imagined, if they even needed to, that money was changing hands somewhere along the way.

Here's the thing, though: How do you stop it? Is the NCAA even built to deal with this? Or is the one-year rule making it impossible?

It's simple for coaches: With the new breed of one-and-done (soon to be two-and-done) players on campuses, programs have to very, very carefully weigh the potential consequences of signing such players. If a player seems to carry too much baggage -- which Tim Floyd should have realized the minute a Mayo handler walked in to the coach's office -- the coach needs to stay away. Pretty easy stuff.

But for the NCAA at large, there will always be a coach willing to accept a player with Mayo-esque baggage. If big programs, fearful of NCAA retribution, ignore the one-and-done player, there will always be outposts (ahem, Kansas State, ahem) looking for the brief surge of national attention that comes with All-American talent. There will always be places for these players to go. There will always be places for them to cheat.

Which brings us back to the one-year rule. When the NCAA and NBA forged the agreement, it was with the knowledge that both sides benefited: the NCAA got to keep all that talent, and the NBA got to stave off the flood of high school prospects seen to be ruining the league's cohesive image. Both sides are benefiting. Lest we forget, this year's NCAA title game was chock with NBA-ready talent, while the NBA is having one of its most competitive seasons in recent memory.

But the NCAA is also forced to deal with a new problem: the Mayo-esque mercenary with the ability to ruin a program just before jumping to the pros. It's silly to think that in today's recruiting environment, this is limited to only one-year players, but the lack of commitment on the player's side of things makes this a uniquely dangerous situation for programs, and for the NCAA's reputation. These are not scholar-athletes, no matter what those NCAA commercials tell you, and what's worse, they're not staying anywhere close to four years -- Mayo's punishment won't come down for years, long after he's made his pro money. You think he cares if USC gets hit with the NCAA's death penalty?

These players' ability to take the money and run, as Mayo did, with little fear of direct retribution ... well, in the words of that fat Texas cop in No Country for Old Men*: How do you defend against it?

The NCAA can't. Not really. So when the next O.J. Mayo happens -- and it will soon enough -- let's remember that it's not just the evil deeds of an 18-year-old trying to get paid, or the car salesman basketball coach or the shady backroom booster. It's also the NCAA, and its incredibly persistent systemic hypocrisy. Blame everyone.

*Yes, I'm still referencing No Country for Old Men at every opportunity. Get over it.

Related: Ill-behaved People, Pac-10 Basketball