His rising blood pressure apparent through the cellular connection, Calipari then drove the point home: "We win a national title, we're all gonna benefit. The year we won the national title [in 2012], we had guys go 1-2 in the draft [Anthony Davis and Michael Kidd-Gilchrist]. How often does that happen? We do that, the NBA looks at them as winners."

In his six seasons in Lexington before the most recently completed one, Calipari piled up a jaw-dropping 19 first-round picks and another six second-rounders. Three of them (John Wall, DeMarcus Cousins and Davis) have become NBA All-Stars -- each having only spent a single year in college.

That's in contrast to Calipari's eight years at UMass, where he went to a Final Four but only had one player (Marcus Camby) leave early. It's also pretty different than his nine-year run at Memphis, where he developed five first-round picks, one of whom (Rodney Carney) was a senior. As Calipari sees it, this has all been a matter of forecasting, then capitalizing.

"I love it when people say this was luck. Fate is being in the right place, then taking advantage. Some were late to catch on, and have started now. We were not late."

But the dynamic his program faces is not without its challenges.

To surmount them, Calipari brings in folks to conduct rigorous media training and provide comprehensive financial advice, while leaning plenty on sports psychologists. In a way, many Kentucky players come in with a plan to cram for the biggest test of their life. As the coach sees it, it's the program's job to organize that effort for them.

It's why guys keep going there even though they may play a fraction of the minutes they would elsewhere. It's how he keeps their eyes on the team's focus with such lucrative personal goals up ahead.

"You teach them what a servant leader is, what a true teammate is. Devin Booker didn't even start for my team, Karl Towns scored 11 points a game here and we had kids come back to play in a 10-man rotation," Calipari said. "The platoon wasn't a problem, either. If you can play and you belong in that league, they don't miss you. Either you're good enough or you're not."

In Calipari's eyes, he's simply adapting to the times: "Jordan Spieth left after one year at Texas. No one says, 'S---, did he ruin college golf? Did he ruin Texas' program?' So what's wrong when a football or basketball player does that? I don't get it."

Likewise, guys like Meyer and Fisher are adapting to the change, rather than trying to slow the trend.

Like Calipari, Meyer has results to lean on now. So the program, to some degree, polices itself.

"You're gonna compete for national championships every year. It shapes you as a player, it gives you that confidence," Elliott said. "When you're used to competing at a high level every week, you don't have a choice but to grow up fast. I mean, you grow up fast or you're left behind. There's guys behind you scratching at your heels for your spot. You don't even have a choice at a place like this. Personal goals go out the window. Personal goals don't even matter."

There's a trick to it, too: convincing high-level athletes with aspirations of competing well beyond their college years to sell out for the team they're actually on.

Around here, they call it "de-recruiting". Players are built up by college coaches when they're high school players. When they arrive in Columbus, the idea is to then break them down -- de-recruit them -- and then build them back up again. And the players do it because the coaches have laid out to them what NFL coaches are looking for, past just physical ability.