As Dr. Seuss once said:

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better."

That truism about change proved to be quite accurate for Sam-I-Am, who would not and could not eat green eggs and ham on a boat, float or goat.

That axiom is also true for the New Jersey Nets' forward Vince Carter, who is just as stubborn towards change as Sam was.

What's the difference between the two? Sam eventually cared and Sam eventually changed.

Carter, on the other hand, is still the same old grinch that the country of Canada has come to bitterly despise.

Heading into the 2005-06 NBA season, the Nets were supposed to be a contender in the Eastern Conference, they were supposed to have the most prolific starting backcourt among Eastern Conference teams and they were supposed to be a high-flying alley-ooping machine.

Instead, they are averaging 94.2 points-per-game (22nd in the NBA) and are barely treading water with a record of 7-9.

Fans in New Jersey are a little hazy right now and are confused about how to diagnose their team's struggles. There appears to be enough talent on the roster to at least match the .512 winning percentage of last season yet the results are inadequate.

But the Toronto Raptors - and elephants - never forget. They recognize this malaise which is better known as Vince Carter.

Last year, after that sour hunch was traded to the Nets, he dropped 27.5 points, 5.9 rebounds, 4.7 assists and 1.5 steals per game while feigning the qualities of a rejuvenated superstar.

Well that honeymoons is now over and Vince is once again showing that he does not care to fully exert himself here, nor there, nor anywhere.

Not only has his points-per-game averaged declined by seven points this season, virtually all of his other statistics have weakened.

One thing that has strengthened, though, is his pis-poor attitude.

Carter has that Marvin K. Mooney demeanor where he decides when and how hard he's going to play. His lethargic style is nothing to rely upon, especially since he's a player that does not care a whole awful lot. That comes as bad news to New Jersey, who was counting on him as a leader.

The evidence was all there during the low-point of the Nets season to date, a home loss to the abysmal Toronto Raptors. As usual, Carter simply looked disinterested. One would think that facing his former team might light a spark of passion but Carter battled foul trouble and his typical struggle with shot selection, something the Raptors are too familiar with.

And, inevitably, he was injured.

As the Nets tried to erase a halftime deficit, Carter was touched near the Raptors basket and collapsed to the floor as if Shaquille O'Neal had punched him in the kidney with brass knuckles. Then he laid motionless for a few minutes and was then helped into the locker room by trainers.

And, inevitably, he returned to the game perfectly fine.

When you watch the real superstars in the NBA like Dwyane Wade or Allen Iverson, you realize that no amount of contact or pain will keep them from persisting. The teammates of those superstars draw confidence from that, knowing that their leader will carry them through any adversity.

As for Vince's teammates, they know who they are dealing with.

Vince Carter is the Cat in the Hat. When Carter comes through the front door, it's all fun and games. His dunks are on highlight reels, the comparisons to Michael Jordan resurface and the potential seems endless. But eventually the cat is let out of the hat (I know, it's really bad timing for a pun) and the lethargic Carter comes back to the forefront.

That's when the Cat in the Hat must go, go, go.

Dr. Seuss and Vince Carter mix like Mondays and me.

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." - Andy Warhol