By MIKE LOPRESTI
Gannett News Service

NEW ORLEANS - With the deadline imminent for my Final Four predictions, and my bracket already smelling worse than the French Quarter, I decided to consult the highest basketball authority available.

Mr. A. The psychic who reads palms and tarot cards on Jackson Square.

"I really don't know much about basketball," said Mr. A, also known as Arthur Walker. "But the cards know."

Sounded wonderful. I'd look like a genius. Admired by all.

A few flips of the tarot cards later, it was clear the champion Monday night would be ...

Well, in a minute. It seemed a good idea first to stop by the Superdome Friday afternoon for the Final Four practices.

Marquette star Dwyane Wade was squelching any idea his Cinderella team would be intimidated.

"We got here being underdogs," he said. "We can be the underdog all the way to the championship.

"This is a game we've all been playing all our lives."

Kansas coach Roy Williams was still marveling at how good Marquette looked on film.

"I'm not letting my team watch the Marquette-Kentucky game," he said, "That was scary."

Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim was mentioning the fearlessness of his pack of greenhorns.

"They're young enough to think they can do anything," he said. "So I'm not going to tell them any different."

As for Texas, the stat sheet reported the Longhorns have outscored their four tournament opponents 94-58 from the free throw line. Perhaps they could whistle their way to a title.

But what are statistics and news conference quotes, when you have tarot cards on your side?

Mr. A started first with the Kansas-Marquette game. He told me to think of a team and pick a card. I thought of Kansas and turned up The Hanged Man.

"There'll be a lot of changes in the first half. Your team will have to make adjustments," he said. "There'll be some disturbances, but good things for Kansas."

For the second half, I turned up The Sun.

"One of the best cards you can draw," Mr. A said. "If you believe in the cards, which is your prerogative, Kansas should kick butt."

Game 2. I thought of Texas and turned up the Wheel of Fortune.

"They're going to have some lucky things happen in the first half," Mr. A said.

I had considered picking Texas to win the championship, anyway. The cards apparently were only validation. Then I turned up The Tower.

"That means they lose," Mr. A said. And just like that, the Longhorns were gone, T.J. Ford and all.

We were down to the crunch cards. Kansas vs. Syracuse in the championship game. I thought of Kansas and turned over The Devil.

"They're going to be down in a hole the first," Mr. A said. "They're going to feel limited, feel controlled."

Sounds as if the supernatural world knows all about the Syracuse zone.

Williams needed a last-card rally. Mr. A held out the deck, I picked one.

The Tower. Again. Someone hand Boeheim the scissors to cut down the net.

"The chances of drawing the same card twice in a row in the same spot is 400-1," said Mr. A, sensing my commiseration with poor Roy Williams. "You picked the cards, I didn't."

Later, back at the Superdome, Williams was talking about refusing to let any speculation about him taking the North Carolina job get in the way of preparing to finally win a national championship.

"We have the right to enjoy this week ... and not have to answer some crazy things," he said. "What it's done for me is make me focus even harder."

Poor guy. He doesn't know about The Tower. And I don't want to be the one to tell him.