There is a thin line between a free spirit and a jackass.

There is a thinner line between excitable and egotistical.

There is an even thinner between being outspoken and being an outcast.

Joakim Noah has crossed that line quicker than any college superstar in history. In just a couple of months, he’s gone from being college basketball’s most inspirational ambassador to being a poster boy for NBA petulance.

“I would have never imagined this could happen,” Noah said Tuesday before his team, the Chicago Bulls, played the Orlando Magic.

Noah’s first game back in the state since adoring Florida fans cheered him on senior day against Kentucky last year must have seemed like something from an alternate universe. He left UF as a symbol of team unity; he returns as the centerpiece of team dissension.

From “We Are the Boys of Old Florida” to “I Am the Brat of Old Florida.”

Noah was back in the lineup on Tuesday after one of the most bizarre cases of jock justice in NBA history. Although he recorded a season-high 11 rebounds in the 102-88 loss to the Magic, it won’t change the image he has created for himself over the last five days. In an unprecedented move, his Bulls’ teammates actually voted to increase Noah’s suspension from one game to two for a verbal altercation with assistant coach Ron Adams last Friday.

Apparently, Noah snapped and unleashed a flurry of confrontational and profane invectives when Adams chided him for not knowing his assignments. Coaches suspended their No. 1 draft pick for one game, but the players got together and voted unanimously to suspend him for yet another game Sunday against the Atlanta Hawks.

“I didn’t know players could suspend each other,” a perplexed Noah said.

It makes you wonder just how much the other players must dislike Noah if they go to this extreme. Seriously, when was the last time you heard NBA players standing up for law and order?

Noah has accomplished something not even the biggest villains in NBA history ever accomplished. Latrell Sprewell, Ron Artest, J.R. Rider, Dennis Rodman? None of them was ever voted off the island by teammates.

When asked if he’s ever talked back to a coach, Bulls center Ben Wallace laughs and says: “Has there ever been a coach I haven’t talked back to?” But then he added seriously. “There’s a line in the sand you can’t cross, and he (Noah) crossed it.”

Is anybody really surprised? If so, you shouldn’t be. Anybody who thinks Noah has suddenly changed in the last two months is being naive. He’s always teetered on the line between Joakim and JERKim. Noah hasn’t changed. Only the perception of him has.

In college, Noah was a member of one of the most tightly knit teams in NCAA history. In the NBA, he is a member of one of the most socially impaired teams in the league. Let us not forget that the same team that voted to suspend Noah pretty much quit on former coach Scott Skiles earlier in the season and got him fired.

Maybe this is why Noah never really wanted to leave college in the first place. He and his teammates stayed an extra year at UF because they said they were having too good of a time to turn pro. Now he’s finding out what we all find out after we leave college: It’s not nearly as much fun in the real world.

“I talked to him a lot about that,” UF coach Billy Donovan says. “I think one of the reasons why he came back his junior year was that was something he was worried about – that it’s not college. As much as you might try to create a college atmosphere, it’s not college. These (NBA) guys are paid to do a job. They’re men, they’re professionals.”

In college you can stay out all night partying, roll out of bed and show up late for class – and it’s not a big deal. Noah was a renowned party boy at UF who often showed up late for class. In college, his habitual tardiness was considered a quirk. In the NBA, it’s considered a character flaw.

The same with his complex, candid personality. In college when he showed up at the White House without a tie and with his shirt untucked, he was said to be politically aware and making an anti-war statement. In the NBA, he’s just a punk.

From revered to reviled; from beloved to belittled.

What an amazing transformation it’s been for Joakim Noah.

He has gone from the emotional catalyst of one of the greatest college teams of all-time to an emotional wreck on one of the most dysfunctional NBA teams in recent memory.