This is my 12th Final Four. I've seen Villanova beat Georgetown. Seen Chris Webber call a timeout he didn't have. Seen a referee whistle a foul on Duke's Bobby Hurley, only to have Hurley snarl back, "C'mon, I'm working my ass off here."

I've seen stuff. Good stuff. Compelling stuff.

Now it's time to take you inside the four days that matter at the Final Four.

FRIDAY

Compared to Thursday's schedule of events, Friday is Dick Vitale on 19 cups of Starbucks hi-grade. Thursday was NCAA president Cedric Dempsey's annual state of the union address, a transcript of which should be forwarded to the National Center for Sleep Disorders. Slip a few pages of Ced to an insomniac and it's Zzzzz-City.

A sampling: "Division I has a similar set of proposals that the membership is reviewing at this point, but the Agents and Amateurism Subcommittee in Division I and the Academics Eligibility Compliance Cabinet have offered several additional amendments and recommendations which are somewhat new, and I suspect many of you are not aware of, that need to be at least presented to you."

I've read more riveting stuff on the back of a clock radio, but that's not necessarily Dempsey's fault. The man is lapel-deep in bureaucracy, so you get what you get.

Friday morning featured an announcement by the Associated Press that North Carolina's Matt Doherty had won its coach of the year award, and Duke's Shane Battier (or as close, personal friend Digger Phelps likes to call him on ESPN award shows, Shawn Battier) had been named its player of the year. Except for the part about Doherty and Battier -- Shane or Shawn -- the selections make perfect sense. Doherty? Great pick in early February, odd pick in late March. How about Boston College's Al Skinner, followed by Ole Miss' Rod Barnes, followed by, oh, I don't know, one of the coaches who actually made it to the Final Four. But that's just me. As for player of the year, I think even Battier would vote for teammate Jason Williams.

At noon Arizona took the court for its 50-minute "practice" session at the Metrodome. Thousands of fans were on hand for the workout, which consists of stretching, layup drills, jump shots and some obligatory dunks. Whoooeee! Nobody had the heart to tell these people that Michigan State, for example, had its real practice earlier in the morning at a local college court.

As the afternoon continues, each of the four teams has to do a stint in the media interview room. You've seen these things before: the coach and five starters sitting at a table atop a scaffold stage, all the time looking as if they'd rather be anywhere -- including a Ced Dempsey speaking engagement -- than stuck in a room with a bunch of reporters.

Two of the first five questions to Arizona coach Lute Olson begin with, "Can you talk about ..." The first question to Michigan State's Andre Hutson and Charlie Bell starts, "Can you talk about ..." Spartans coach Tom Izzo gets a couple of, "Can you talk about ..." This is why America doesn't trust the media. We can't even think of things to ask. ("Tom, can you talk about my inability to form an actual question and my lack of preparation for this group interview?")

The sessions go as expected. Nobody says a thing. Instead, there is a lot of nonsense about "getting a body on them," or "staying focused," or "overcoming hurdles." You write it all down, of course, and then you return to the media workroom, which is located about 50 yards from the Metrodome court and behind a section of bleacher seats at least four stories high. One fan leaned over the chain-link partition and yelled to a writer seated far below, "Hey, you're a hack!"

A few minutes later came the sound of power saws. Is this a great place, or what?

SATURDAY

No sun in the forecast. Why the NCAA insists on having the Final Four on Ice Station Zebra, I have no idea. Possible future sites: Nome, Rock City, Reykjavik.

No matter what city we're in, the lobby of the coaches' hotel will be the basketball center of free enterprise. You should see this place. If Russia really wants to reshape its economy it ought to send a few of the fellas to Minny for a working lesson in capitalism.

Members of the National Association of Basketball Coaches aren't supposed to sell their Final Four tickets for more than face value. But the NABC boys have been winking at that little rule for years. Truth is, you can't swing a cat in the Hilton lobby (NABC headquarters) without whacking a scalper in the kisser. They're everywhere. So are assorted assistant and head coaches swapping their tickets for some serious cash.

Just a thought, but the next time the NCAA gets tough on a recruit who took an $11 T-shirt from a booster, it first might want to clean up the annual ticket bazaar at the Final Four. The first semifinal game begins at 4:42 p.m. Central time. Michigan State vs. Arizona, followed by Duke vs. Maryland. As you're killing time before tip-off, someone will ask, "Can you talk about who you're picking in the semis?"

You'll say Michigan State and Duke, but only because they're the only two teams left on your office pool sheet.

SUNDAY

Three more hours of interviews.

Meanwhile, the airport will be bustling with the departure of Arizona and Maryland fans, as well as NABC members heading home after pocketing their profits.

MONDAY

Time to attend the 9 a.m. U.S. Basketball Writers Association meeting. The USBWA Most Courageous Award is a must-see (Oklahoma State is this year's recepient), as is the usual bitching by USBWA members about the breakfast spread.

The national championship game begins at 8:18 p.m. Central. You're focused. You've overcome hurdles. You've put a body on this baby.

Your pick: Duke 86, Michigan State 79.

Shawn gets his ring.

Gene Wojciechowski is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail Geno at gene.wojciechowski@espnmag.com.