The small-town football player involved in the most bizarre recruiting story, well, ever, answered the phone on the third ring.

"I'm not going to make any comment on it," said Kevin Hart, his voice subdued, almost sad. "I don't mean to be impolite. I'm just going to hang up the phone."

A moment later, click.

Thursday was not a good day for Hart. How could it be? The sheriff's department wanted to talk to him again.

But Wednesday was worse. Wednesday is when the pride of Fernley High School admitted that he had lied to the police, to his family, his friends, his teachers, his coaches, his teammates, his classmates, and anyone else in a small Nevada town who thought Hart was going to be the first Vaqueros player to receive a Division I football scholarship.

"I've been with the Lyon County Sheriff's office for 18 years," said Lt. Rob Hall, "and I've never seen anything like this."

A week ago, in front of television cameras and a packed high school gymnasium, the 6-5, 290-pound offensive guard placed two baseball caps on a table -- a Cal Bears cap on his right, an Oregon Ducks cap on his left -- and then, after a dramatic pause, put the blue-and-gold Cal hat on his head.

"They really won me over," Hart told reporters. "Coach [Jeff] Tedford and I talked a lot, and the fact that the head coach did most of the recruiting of me kind of gave me the real personal experience."

Actually, the Cal head coach barely knew he existed. That's because there was no scholarship offer. Not from Cal. Not from Oregon. Not from anywhere. Hart made it up. He made everything up.

What began six months ago as a small, ego-driven lie, somehow gained weight and strength and grew into an uncontrollable hoax. It enveloped a school, a town, a family and maybe a future.