If you're like 95 percent of the nation's college basketball fans, your NCAA bracket is in shambles.

After the untimely demise of No. 2 seeds Miami, Stanford and Utah, Wall Street offices and college dormitories alike are abuzz with the sound of gnashing teeth, and suddenly everyone and their mother can spell Szczerbiak.

But the South Regional, unlike its counterparts, is a model of predictability. Nos. 1-4 Auburn, Maryland, St. John's and Ohio State all advanced to the Sweet 16 with relative ease on the strength of superstars like the Tigers' Chris Porter, the Terps' Steve Francis, the Johnnies' Ron Artest and the Buckeyes' Scoonie Penn.

What the South Regional lacks in Cinderella value, it makes up for in quality--witness tonight's St. John's-Maryland duel, one which carries all the promise of being an NCAA Tournament classic.

The ink spilled on Francis alone justifies the anticipation. The 6'3 junior college transfer has become one of the most coveted collegiate players in the nation, averaging 17.2 points per game and shooting 52.8 percent from the floor and 40 percent from three-point range.

It is Francis's odyssey to Maryland, however, that makes the shooting guard such good copy.

Francis barely played basketball in high school, suffering through bouts with academic ineligibility, injury and the death of his mother during his senior year.

He spent one year prepping and two years in ju-co purgatory before bursting into the Terps' starting lineup. At Allegany Community College, Francis averaged 25 points per game and was a First-Team Junior College All-American. ESPN's Jay Bilas calls Francis the Roy Hobbs of the 64-team field.

Lost in the hype behind Francis is sophomore forward Terrence Morris, who scores 15.5 points per game and averages 7.2 rebounds while shooting almost 60 percent from the floor. Morris scored 20 in Maryland's second-round win over Creighton to go along with Francis's 18-point, 13-rebound double-double.

The Johnnies, for their part, have quite a cast of characters under the disciplined and effective tutelage of first-year Coach Mike Jarvis, and play the Little Engine that Could to Maryland's scoring machine.

Jarvis, who coached Patrick Ewing when the latter played his high school ball up the street at Cambridge Rindge and Latin School, is the perfect antithesis of his predecessor, the bumbling, irate Fran Fraschilla, who was canned after the Storm lost its NCAA opener last year to Detroit.

Jarvis has skillfully managed a team comprised largely of graduates of New York inner-city high schools--Artest of LaSalle, freshman Erick Barkley of Christ the King and senior Tyrone Grant of Grady--and has steered the Storm deeper into the Dance than any coach since Lou Carnesecca in 1991.

St. John's has battled all season, with near-miss losses to Stanford and Purdue and the Preseason NIT and to No. 1 Duke in overtime at Madison Square Garden, in a game Elton Brand thought was the best he's ever played in, a 92-88 defeat.

Jarvis can also claim much of the credit for the Storm's 86-61 demolition of Indiana in the second round--his zone stifled the Hoosiers into 40 percent shooting, and Bobby Knight said that he couldn't have beaten St. John's with five more tries.

St. John's will depend on Artest, a highly vocal leader and likely lottery pick should he declare for the NBA draft, who averages 14.8 points and 4.4 assists per game.

Artest's backcourt is one of the freshest and quickest in the nation, manned by rookies Barkley and Bootsy Thornton, like Francis a ju-co veteran. Bootsy, whose birth certificate reads Marvis, got his nickname when his mother named him after Parliament Funkadelic's Bootsy Collins.

Thornton scores 14.7 and Barkley 13.3 points per game in an extremely balanced lineup which features five double-figure scorers.

If the Storm has one palpable weakness, it's inside strength, where the oftinjured Grant and junior Lavor Postell provide some size but much vulnerability.

Will the dynamic duo of Francis and Morris prove too much for the lowbrow Johnnies to handle? This Sweet 16 tilt promises to be a classic, with as many as three potential lottery picks in the starting lineups. So for one night, forget about your bracket (in all likelihood already lost, along with the five bucks you sank on it) and watch the game for its own sake.

Who knows? Odds are, you'll catch a classic.