Who do you like?

By Ron Kantowski

Monday, April 7, 2008 | 2 a.m.

Kansas vs. Memphis. The Rockefellers in baggy shorts vs. ... well, I gotta go with the Mark Cubans. College basketball royalty vs. a college basketball team that royally gets after you.

So if you’re a UNLV fan, who do you cheer for?

It would have been easy had North Carolina won, because nobody outside of Chapel Hill cheers for North Carolina. In fact, sometimes not even those inside of Chapel Hill cheer for North Carolina. It’s gotten a little more raucous at the Dean Dome since Roy Williams came back to town — especially when Duke visits. But for the longest time it was like going to church. When you worshiped at the Tar Heel altar, you did it reverently. And solemnly. Then you left a little something in Roy’s plate on the way out.

It would have been easy had UCLA won, because nobody in Las Vegas cheers for UCLA. That’s because for years and years and years, when the Bruins were good and the Rebels were good, whoever was coaching the Bruins was afraid of Jerry Tarkanian. Finally, in 1993, Jim Harrick relented. UCLA scheduled UNLV. Big deal. By then, Rollie Massimino was the UNLV coach and what could have become a made-for-TV regional rivalry became a 108-83 UCLA blowout. Take note, Loyola Marymount fans: It wasn’t much more competitive in subsequent games when Bill Bayno was coach.

Ben Howland, the present-day UCLA coach, is a nice guy. He gave Bishop Gorman’s Mike Adras his shot at coaching in Division I when he left Northern Arizona for Pitt. The Bruins’ star is Kevin Love, whose uncle, Mike, is the lead singer of the Beach Boys. These West Coast boys are hip and you may dig the styles they wear. But if you’re a Rebel fan, you don’t cheer for them, no matter how well they harmonize in transition.

The Final Four is one of sport’s marquee events. But by now, one of the F’s is hanging from the marquee, like the letters at the old Bijou when you were a kid. It’s a strange event, owing to the interest of the casual fan, which actually peaks during the first weekend of the tournament when all those bracket busters are still running the floor in glass slippers. I mean, when was the last time a sports fan planned his vacation or made a pilgrimage to Las Vegas to watch the NFL wild card playoffs or baseball’s divisional series on TV?

But like they say in NASCAR when they’re not standing in line to use the restroom, you gotta be for somebody.

You could be for Kansas, for the simple reason they are the ones who turned the Rebels’ March Madness to sadness. Actually, it’s hard to be too sad when it takes a team of Kansas’ caliber to eliminate one of the Rebels’ caliber, this being a rebuilding year and all. And it was close until halftime. If you thought Bill Self, the KU coach, looked nervous against Davidson, you should have seen him walking off the floor in Omaha when his players couldn’t get the ball inside against a bunch of overachieving pipsqueaks.

You could also be for Kansas because it has legions of passionate fans who drink a lot, but are not obnoxious; because UNLV coach Lon Kruger and most of his assistants were born there; or, because if you’re like me, you have a soft spot in your basketball heart for Curtis Terry. And wouldn’t it be nice (unintentional Beach Boys reference this time) if the converted UNLV point guard could someday tell his grandkids that if he only had made another basket or two — well, more like six or seven — in the second half it could have been the Rebels cutting down the nets. Or something like that.

But at the same time, if you’re a Rebel fan, how can you not be for Memphis? Commuter school. Great talent. Not-so-great conference. Players with a chip on their shoulders who get after you like their hair’s on fire and somebody already has broken the glass in case of emergency. Controversial coach who always is trying to stay a step ahead of the law. Albeit with a better haircut and a nicer suit.

If the 1990 Rebels fathered a bunch of kids — and, come to think of it, Larry Johnson was on that team — the 2008 Tigers could have been their offspring.

This is like Bizarro World in “Superman” and “Seinfeld.” John Calipari is Jerry Tarkanian. Derrick Rose is Greg Anthony. Chris Douglas-Roberts is Stacy Augmon. Joey Dorsey is not Larry Johnson. But if you stacked the rest of the Tigers on his broad shoulders, you’d get a reasonable facsimile thereof.

So here’s what I would do, Rebels fans.

Cheer for Kansas in the first half.

Cheer for Memphis in the second half.

And cheer like crazy that tonight’s game, unlike the two on Saturday, isn’t like watching Barack Obama bowl.