Maybe you missed it, but last week, a seven-month-old was reaching unusual heights in his spring-loaded Johnny Jump-up seat in the kitchen of his home in Nacogdoches, Texas. College coaches flocked there and shoved into his hands letters of intent, which, of course, he immediately slobbered on.

We jest. But we’re moving in that direction. Where as recently as 10 years ago, it was eye-opening for high school juniors to commit to a university, suddenly eighth-graders are pledging themselves.

A year ago, Chicago-area guard Ryan Boatright said he’d sign with USC. Shortly after that, he decided which high school he would go to.

His mother said he’d always loved USC. Right, and he’d always loved Ninja turtles, too. Two months ago, California eighth-grade guard Michael Avery got a scholarship offer from Kentucky – and took it. Like Boatright, he hadn’t settled on a high school.

Is it too much to ask that guys aren’t earmarked for the ivy-covered halls until their voices change? If middle-school kids are being offered, and accepting scholarships, you know we aren’t far from the announcement that an elementary-school baller is hell-bent for State U. – at least after he finishes his vegetables. If recruiting services are listing the top sixth-graders, you know there are college coaches paying attention.

Please. I had a front-row seat on early recruiting a couple of years ago that might be instructive. I traveled for my little newspaper to Kalispell, Mont., the home of 6-foot-8 Brock Osweiler, for a story on the phenomenon of early recruiting.

Osweiler, a precocious forward, had just taken Gonzaga up on an early scholarship offer, committing at the end of his freshman year at Flathead High School.

This was a stable, two-parent family. We enjoyed pizza and pop at a restaurant outside town, discussing the pros and cons of committing early. Their consensus was that the downside was minimal and the reward too enticing.

His dad, John Osweiler, invited me back to the house to see trophies and newspaper clippings. Brock would ride back in my small rental car. I didn’t especially relish the prospect of trying to make conversation on the 15-minute trip with a youngster still months from a driver’s license.

I completely underestimated him. Brock Osweiler was chatty, mature beyond his years. You’d want your 15-year-old to be so worldly. It was impossible not to be impressed.

Said Brock, referring to the lure of the Zags, “It’s close to home, they’re always on TV, it’s got a family environment, there’s no pro franchise in town, the way they travel – they’ve got two private jets – the style of play, the coaching staff. There’s nothing you could ask for that they don’t have.”

Well, it turns out there was one thing Gonzaga didn’t have – a football program. A few weeks ago, Osweiler committed to Arizona State, to play quarterback.

From his earliest days at Flathead, he began drawing attention from football recruiters, from Florida State to Stanford to UCLA.

What happened? One spring weekend in Dallas, Osweiler spent Friday at a high-profile quarterback camp and Saturday at an AAU basketball tournament. Suddenly, he saw his future in black-and-white. Football gave him a different comfort level.

“It wasn’t a whim that Brock just did it,” his father says. “It was that comfort thing.” Here’s the point: If a kid with his feet on the ground can reverse field – to a different sport – what might these dalliances be like for prospects with flightier tendencies? Oh, and by the way, in Osweiler’s case, he just committed to one of college football’s most famously itinerant coaches, Dennis Erickson.

In the original story on Osweiler, I featured a handful of other kids who had committed early. One was Taylor King, whose dad said it was a mistake to do it so soon. King went for UCLA as an eighth-grader, opted out to Duke later, and has now transferred from the Blue Devils to Villanova.

Another was Nic Wise, the Arizona point guard who settled on the Wildcats as a ninth-grader. In the wake of Arizona’s wacked-out season and its aftermath, Wise was considered so liable to transfer, that the Wildcats recently issued a statement that he was staying.

“I think college coaches should have to stay away from kids, probably until their sophomore years,” says John Osweiler. “You can make a decision, but how do you predict what’s going to happen four years from now?”

This has the feel of another time-honored high school tradition – going steady. It’s blithe and fun and fundamentally frivolous.

You know what it is? It’s a commitment without a commitment.