By Jim Litke
The Associated Press

Nothing good is likely to come out of the very raw, very public and still very-far-from-over Roy Williams-Kansas breakup - unless it's the pilot episode for a reality TV series.

Get ready for "NCAA Divorce Court."

Begin with a healthy dose of "he said, we said," then add recriminations and tears. In Williams' case, there was also a warning from his old flame to his new one: "You may have Roy, but you can't have the kids."

Williams accepted the coaching job at North Carolina on Monday, but being a glutton for punishment, he promised to return to Kansas to attend the banquet of the team he left behind. Instead of a parting gift, waiting for him was a formal complaint that Kansas lodged with North Carolina over some things Williams said in an interview about two players he recruited for next season's KU freshman class.

The coach said he believed recruits should be allowed to tear up letters of intent when the coach who recruited them changed programs. To Kansans, that sounded as though Williams was still courting two kids - Los Angeles guard Omar Wilkes and Reno, Nev., center David Padgett, who signed letters last November promising to become Jayhawks.

So Janelle Martin, the associate athletic director in charge of compliance at Kansas, wrote to Williams' new employer. She could have filed the complaint with the NCAA (whose rule it is) or the ACC (the Tar Heels' conference), but Martin said Kansas wanted to be as direct as possible. She got her answer directly, too.

"We're satisfied with the response," she said. "I think both North Carolina and Kansas understand what rule is at issue, and we have the same understanding. We'll just see what happens with subsequent interviews."

Naturally, Williams was shocked (shocked!) that anyone would doubt his motives, let alone his timing. He mentioned Wilkes and Padgett, over and over, in the few days between jobs. He insisted that was a harmless coincidence, too.

"For somebody to say I'm trying to do something negative to Kansas," Williams said, "is like saying I'm trying to kill myself."

After investing 15 years of hard work and taking the Jayhawks to four Final Fours, Williams thought he was above suspicion. But no one is in these days of dwindling loyalty. Padgett's father has already said his son wants to see who replaces Williams before deciding whether to ask Kansas to shred his letter. Martin said Kansas won't decide about granting releases until a recruit asks for one.

Williams later issued a denial and an apology, but the matter will hardly end there. Bet all those Kansans who bought tickets way back in October to Thursday night's banquet never dreamed they'd be getting this much entertainment bang from their bucks.

Williams got a standing ovation when he took the podium and said the celebration was about the players, not him. But a man in the back yelled "traitor!" Nick Collison's father, Dave, stood up and told the protester, "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Ever since Williams announced he was leaving, Kansas was enveloped in some kind of self-loathing funk. Even though the state worshipped him and the school sacrificed athletic director Al Bohl to curry favor at the last minute, Kansans blamed themselves for Williams' departure.

Some wished they'd been nicer. Others wondered aloud whether it was something they'd said. Still others were disillusioned to find out Williams was just another basketball coach, and as a result, he was going to do what coaches always do. They coach. And then they move.

For all the hubbub this one created, you'd think Williams' move bridged love and betrayal, good and evil. But all he really did was trade a basketball mecca in Lawrence for another one in Chapel Hill. They're both great college basketball towns, with great traditions and great potential. One columnist distilled Williams' reasoning to its essence: He has always preferred Carolina barbecue to Kansas City's.

It's probably not much more complicated than that.

Whatever else there is to say about Williams, at least credit him with this much: He always spoke his mind.

And that only proved every coach is conflicted, every coach is for sale. So what? So is every judge, jury and sports writer. It's human nature, not to mention great TV.

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Jim Litke is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at jlitke@ap.org