The Day a Seven-Year-Old Cried for Bob Knight

The Day a Seven-Year-Old Cried for Bob Knight

There is a space of flooring in my parent’s room that will always be sacred to me.  It is an area that starts roughly four steps into the room and extends about six feet back to my mom’s nightstand.  And within this area, stretched out on the floor with my feet pointed to the room’s back wall, I have watched many a big game with mom and dad.

One of the earliest contests I can remember viewing from this special place was the 1975 NCAA basketball tournament Mideast regional final game between Indiana and Kentucky.  I was all of seven years old and I was just becoming aware of the world of sports.  I can’t recall if I had picked it up from the Detroit Free Press sports section, or simply heard the announcers talk about it, but I was aware that Indiana was riding an undefeated season.  I also was aware that I shared the same first name with Indiana’s star player, Scott May.  However, when May took the floor he was wearing a cast on his arm.  I think the sight of the injured forward was when my heart began to feel soft, but my emotions and senses also were focused on the fiery Indiana coach who wore a plaid sports jacket and appeared to be close to my parent’s age.   The coach was known as “Bobby” Knight in those days and something inside of me felt compelled to cheer for this man and his team.

Although I was just beginning to study sports in earnest, I was equally deep into comic books and sometimes the two worlds merged.  Viewing the game with my comic book perspective, I had no doubt in my mind that the team I deemed the good guys—the Indiana Hoosiers—would prevail.  Just like watching a Batman cartoon, I began to feel ill whenever the Kentucky team appeared to be getting the best of my heroes, but I still had my comic book faith that the team I latched onto would prevail in the end.  But on that afternoon I learned a lesson that the team I assign special status to will not always come out on top as the Wildcats won that day, 92-90.

I didn’t say anything to my parents immediately after the game.  For that matter, I had watched most of the game in silence as I tried to take everything in while learning what to me was a new world called sports.  There may have been another tournament game on TV afterwards, but if there was, my mind remained on the Indiana-Kentucky contest.  At some point I made the short trek down the hall to my room and that’s when my eyes watered.  Not only did I learn that my teams will not always win no matter how hard I root, but that game also revealed to me the beauty of spectator sports, because putting yourself in another person’s shoes and wanting the best for them is indeed a beautiful thing.

The following season, Indiana would once again head into the NCAA basketball tournament undefeated, and I rooted for them all the way, even when they played and defeated a team from my state—the University of Michigan—in the championship game.  Even as I quietly celebrated Indiana’s 1976 championship from my special place in my parents’ room, I still found myself thinking back to the Kentucky game a year earlier.  As the years passed, the coach I cared about in 1975 became known as “Bob” Knight and he would do things that I did not care for as I watched him with more mature eyes.  But even as I sometimes questioned Bob Knight’s actions, I often found myself thinking about that 1975 Mideast regional final played in Dayton, Ohio, and once those thoughts sank in, more times than not I gave the “General” a pass. 

As I watch tonight’s Indiana-Kentucky game of this year’s NCAA tournament, I know I am going to think back to that game in 1975, because it is already very much on my mind.  Tonight I don’t plan to shed a tear for the winner or loser, but having those memories is sure to make this game that much more special in my heart and mind. 

Congratulations Mike Woodson

As a young Big Ten basketball fan in the late 1970s, one of my favorite players was a silky-smooth swingman for Indiana named Mike Woodson.  Whenever an Indiana game was shown in the Detroit market, number 42 was my guy.  Woodson had a great collegiate career, en route to scoring 2,062 points from 1977-80, but his run with the Hoosiers came just after the undefeated 1976 national championship team and ended just before IU captured another national title in 1981 led by superstar Isiah Thomas.  Therefore it's easy to forget that Woodson was one of the all-time Big Ten greats and a first-round pick in the 1980 draft by the New York Knicks.

Woodson's pro career is easy to forget as well, despite the fact that he averaged a very respectable 14 points during an 11-year run in the NBA.  Woodson's pro numbers may have been good enough to make him a small part of the Knicks lore, had he stayed with the team.  However, following an undistinguished rookie season in New York, Woodson embarked on an NBA journey, which included uniform changes in New Jersey, Kansas City/Sacramento, Los Angeles (Clippers), Houston and Cleveland.  With Kansas City and the Clippers, Woodson reached minor-star status (averaging 18 points during two seasons), but playing in an era when most teams received minimal if any national coverage, few fans outside of the markets where he played were likely to have paid attention to the solid career Woodson was crafting.  In fact, as a teenager I followed Woodson's pro career primarily through box scores and I always smiled when he notched another double-figure performance.

I smiled again years later when I began to see Woodson on NBA benches as an assistant coach after his playing days.  As I now stayed connected with my friend through cable TV, I felt that I had picked a good person to follow those many years ago.  When Woodson became the head coach of the Atlanta Hawks in 2004, I flashed a big smile and rooted for him passionately many a night through the magic of the NBA League Pass.  In typical Woodson fashion—under the radar, away from the spotlight—he began to make the Hawks better culminating in a run of three consecutive playoff appearances.  However, despite transforming what was one of the league's lowliest franchises when he took over into a consistent playoff qualifier, the Hawks felt they no longer needed Woodson's talents following the 2010 season.

During the time I have followed Woodson's career, from my preteen days to manhood, I have learned that life can be cold and Woodson's exit from the Hawks was a perfect example.  But I also have learned that life is full of surprises, such as the surprise of learning that Woodson would be the interim coach of the Knicks following Mike D'Antoni's departure earlier this month. The timing of D'Antoni's exit caught this fan a bit by surprise, but I am not surprised that the Knicks have gone 5-0 since Woodson took over following a road victory over Atlantic Division rival Philadelphia on March 21.  I am a realist and I know at some point the team will cool off and the boo birds will come out once again at Madison Square Garden.  However, if the Garden faithful stay behind Woodson I can guarantee them they will be rewarded.  I can say from years of experience that Mike Woodson is a good man to follow.  Also, life is full of juicy surprises, so maybe the 1980 first-round pick will finally become a part of Knicks lore after all these years.  I know I will be pulling for my guy to make it happen.