Carter puts aside childish things in the first round.(Toronto Raptors' Vince Carter)

It seems we have lost all our patience with kids these days. Exhibit A: Vince Carter was shooting 31 percent through the first three games of the second playoff series of his life, and he was scolded like he brought home a C- in advanced placement French or dented the family Bugati. Everyone expected more from him: "You aren't producing like the achiever you proved to be during the first marking period. Bad, ungrateful child. Come Monday, report to your new guidance counselor, Mr. Oakley."

But Vince had the last laugh, didn't he? It wasn't simply a matter of hitting jump shots, which is how too many fans judge too many players. It was more a case of Carter showing a toughness, resilience and maturity that few thought he had.

The first three games were a mere proving ground, as it turned out.

Nobody thought this was going to be easy. The Knicks put an elite defender in front of Carter (Latrell Sprewell) and were well-practiced in a scheme designed to stonewall penetrations, remove first and second options, and send an extra body his way whenever Carter had the ball in the post or at the top.

Game 1 was air-tight, seamless, nearly perfect, without a single deviation from last year's sweep, when Carter shot 30 percent. The Knicks turned into a club of pursuit, scrambling the game. And Carter couldn't handle it, alternating between being an errant passer out of double-teams and being a panic shooter before the doubles arrived. He shot 5-for-22 in that first game--13 points (ugh) and five turnovers (double ugh). Yeah, the guy's game had the glacial beauty of an iceberg, but it appeared that unlike the iceberg, Carter's game had absolutely nothing below the surface.

Game 2 was a predictable giveaway game for the Knicks, who were dealing with a horrid tragedy that depressed the entire organization--the assault on Marcus Camby's sister--and Game 3 was a return to the norm. Carter was awful again (5-for-21), and Toronto was on the brink.

Then the scolding started. Charles Oakley, who would rather kiss Tyrone Hill on the lips than mince words, blasted his teammate for not being there when the Raptors needed him: "This is the time you've got to step up and be a man about it," Oak said.