Every time I am witness to humans treating other humans as commodities, I am reminded of the song "Penetration" by Pedro the Lion. You've probably never heard it before (and if you have, let's talk music some time), but suffice it to say it's dark, incisive and generally leaves you feeling kind of grimy just for listening to it. And so it has bounced about in my head as I've tried to digest the departure of three Southeast Missouri State men's basketball players last week.

The news that Marcus Wallace, Ladarius Coleman and JT Jones were no longer with the Redhawks set off a bit of a fire storm among members of the SEMO community, and as is the case in most fire storms, everyone took sides -- either it was a sign of the end of times or a ridiculous overreaction from people looking for a reason to attack Southeast men's coach Rick Ray. I'll never fully understand why the Internet is a place where people can't look across the aisle, see someone who thinks something different from them and consider that, just maybe, both ideas have room to live.

It's hard to wrap my head around the divorce between Wallace, Coleman and Jones and the Southeast program. Ray calls it one of those instances in life where a relationship just doesn't work out. He said the players weren't fitting in to the system he's trying to install and make part and parcel of Redhawks hoops. Fair enough. But you can't blame someone for being confused as to why it took so long to learn it wasn't going to work. Or why Wallace -- who showed some promise near the end of his freshman season -- and Coleman continued, despite apparently being square pegs in round holes, to receive extensive run-outs on the court. Wallace was an occasional starter in a lineup that is still looking for continuity; when he didn't start, he was a key bench player. Coleman was a spark off the bench every night, the team's second-leading rebounder and undoubtedly one of the most athletic and potentially explosive players on the roster.

So those guys don't fit. OK. But how do you go from 25 minutes to not a part of the plans overnight?

Just a week earlier, Ray himself had talked about Wallace settling in after the sophomore had a nice performance against Memphis. Wallace exited the game saying he was excited about continuing to figure things out.

Ray said there were no disciplinary issues. Interim athletic director Brady Barke said there were no disciplinary issues. No one involved with the program is talking about disciplinary problems -- something for which one would understand a sudden parting of ways. Ray and Barke say the decision was to give the players a chance to transfer out to other programs and be able to join their respective teams before the start of next season's conference slate. That sentiment is OK but leaves the players with just about two weeks to go from zero to 60 and find a new home and a new team and a new life. If they can't in that time, they'll lose that half of a season of eligibility entirely.

Jones didn't even hold a scholarship -- he's a walk-on. How badly would you have to affect locker room morale to get the boot when you're not even taking up one of your program's scholarships?

Coleman certainly seemed hurt by the move, saying he was going to be careful about what he does next in order to make sure he doesn't "want to make the wrong decision again." Ouch. Wallace said Ray told him the players' frustration in learning the new system was frustrating him, so he'd rather cut bait than work through frustration. If true, that hardly seems characteristic of a leader of young men.

I was so inspired, I nearly went home and told my two toddlers to pack their things and move on out. I'm tired of them frustrating me. Take your pacifiers, baby dolls, Legos and ninja turtles and clear out. On second thought, leave the Legos. They'll be kind of therapeutic as I kill my newfound free time during my reunion with a beautiful, long-lost quiet.

But this is Ray's program. He's coached more basketball games than I -- and, likely, 99 percent of you reading this -- ever have and ever will. If he believes that cleaning house -- and I mean really wiping the floor -- is necessary to lift SEMO basketball to where he hopes to take it, then it's hard for me to say it's the wrong approach. I hope the Redhawks flourish.

As a person, however, it's hard not to hear the lyrics from that aforementioned song floating into my eardrums. It's hard not to cringe a little when Ray calls BS on all the lines we hear from coaches -- it's about finding the right buttons to push to motivate each individual and it's about building young men and it's about shaping humans, not just ballplayers.

These aren't the first college athletes to be cut loose due to no wrongdoing of their own. They won't be the last. Wallace, Coleman and Jones have learned a valuable lesson about life -- we all die alone. The "real" world outside of school and outside of athletics will largely value you based on what you can do for someone else. Rejection and loss are painful and often come when you're not prepared for it.

But Ray might learn lessons, too. He might learn that recruits are wary of coming to play for someone who might suddenly force them to reconfigure their lives if they turn out not to be a perfect match in what is most certainly an imperfect program right now. He might learn that cutting a local walk-on doesn't tend to curry favor with local support -- the folks paying the taxes to pay your salary and sitting (or not sitting) in the stands and cheering (or not cheering) your program on.

Or maybe he'll learn that he was right, that none of those things are insurmountable and that these players were, in some way, dragging the program down, or at least not lifting it up; that the only way to take Southeast to another level -- or, even, just out of its current doldrums -- is to give it a violent and forceful shake. He's tried it before and ran out of time. SEMO knew what it was getting into when it hired Ray, and so obviously plans on giving him time to work things out.

It's fair to believe in Ray. It's fair to ask people to give him time -- as they well should. But it's also fair to offer criticism for not giving the players that same time, and for cutting ties in a way that leaves the program with some egg on its face.

There's also a song that sings "you might be right, you might be crazy." Ray could be either. But the bed has been made, and he will have to lie in it.

Josh Mlot is the sports editor of the Southeast Missourian and semoball.com.