Out & about Kentucky Style: Bobby Knight

Bobby Knight’s recent passing brought up memories of my encounter with the former Indiana basketball coach. It was like a volcano erupting in my ear when Coach Bobby Knight picked up the phone to answer my phone call back in 2014.

Gary West is an author and News Journal columnist.

I was in the middle of writing a book, Better Than Gold, about Kentuckian Kenny Davis. Davis had the distinction of being the captain of the United States 1972 Olympic basketball team that lost to the Russians in what has been called the most controversial game in America’s history.

Knight, along with Joe B. Hall had been a part of Coach Henry Iba’s staff that selected the team. I wanted to interview the former Indiana coach to get his take on the team and the game.

“I’ll give you his number,” Kenny Davis said while chuckling. “He won’t answer, and he won’t call you back.”

I’ll give it a try, I told Davis. Over the years I’ve had lots of those kind of calls, so what’s another when it comes to Bobby Knight. Heck, years ago I called UK Coach Adolph Rupp and he answered on the first ring.

Kenny had gotten to know Knight at the 1972 Olympic Trials at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Later, Davis called on the coach several times to be a featured speaker at Converse Shoe conventions of which he had a forty year career.

I dialed the phone. Not expecting the volatile coach to answer, I had no prepared notes or questions. Ring-ding-a-ling once, twice, and much to my surprise on the third ring, a gruff “hello” came into my ear.

“How’d you get this number,” he asked.

When I told him Kenny Davis, he seemed to lighten up just a little bit. I’m calling about the 1972 Olympic team trials I quickly said, not sure if he would hang up on me or not.

He didn’t.

Coach Knight took it from there. Not knowing who I am from a can of corn, he self-launched into a thirty-two minute tirade about his love for Coach Iba and his complete dislike for Bill Walton, C.M. Newton, Joe B. Hall, and John Wooden and anyone else he could think of.

If only I had a tape recorder. I didn’t, but in that thirty-two minutes of Knight espousing on his memories of the Olympic Trials, I took several pages of notes, mostly profanity.

He was vintage Bobby Knight.

Insiders said back then that Wooden was upset at having to fill out an application for the Olympic coaching job. There were those who wanted him to bring the core of his UCLA team with him.

Adolph Rupp had done it in 1948 with his Kentucky team.

“That damn Wooden was upset,” said Knight. “And if he cared about basketball like he said he did he’d have made Walton play. Walton was given a pass to the team all the way to Munich. Said he was hurt, but he was ok when the Olympics came around.”

I was not surprised by Knight’s outburst. At the 1982 Final Four, I was walking across the plaza toward the Superdome with Bill Olsen, then the Athletic Director at the University of Louisville. I was serving at the time as the Director of the Hilltopper Athletic Foundation at Western Kentucky University and Olsen and I met before the game to discuss some fund raising idea at our respective schools.

Suddenly Olsen said, “There’s Coach Knight, I need to talk to him.”

“Coach Knight, Coach Knight,” Olsen yelled as the coach stopped and turned around.

I, nor Olsen, was not prepared for what came out of Knight’s mouth.

“How’d you get my [blankety blank] number?”

Olsen replied, “I was calling you about a coaching position for Mike Pratt (former UK All-American).”

“I don’t need your (blankety blank) help or anyone else to hire an assistant coach,” he yelled at Olsen as heads turned from others walking by.

Knight abruptly walked away, while Olsen asked me “What did I say wrong?”

So when it was all said and done, and I could feel the interview was drawing to a close, I was determined to make the conclusion of the call on my terms.

Coach, before you go I want to ask you about a friend of mine, Bobby Rascoe (a former Western All-American).  To my shock his voice changed to a much softer projection.

“Bobby Rascoe is one of the best college players I ever saw,” he said recalling the 1960 Western-Ohio State game of which Knight was a Buckeye substitute. “You tell Bobby I said hello.”

“Coach,” I said, “thank you so much for your time and input on my book about Kenny Davis.”

Click went the phone. The call, in fact, did end on his terms.

There’s no excuse, get up, get out and get going!  Gary P. West can be reached at westgarypdeb@gmail.com.