Knight School

With the 27th pick of the 1996 NBA Draft, the Orlando Magic selected Brian Evans from Indiana University. He was the first - and to this point, only - Hoosier ever selected by the Magic in the draft.

A couple of months after that selection, the team flew to Indianapolis for a preseason game against the Pacers. At the time, I was a 25-year-old television producer in the Magic front office, and I thought it would be a grand idea to couple that road game with a trip to Bloomington to interview then-IU head coach Bob Knight, who had recruited and coached Evans in college. For whatever reason, the Magic's director of broadcasting agreed to this plan, and signed off on my idea. Among other milestones, it was the first time I ever flew on the team plane.

The only reason we got the interview was because Indiana University had a sports information director who used to work for the University of Florida. His name was Greg - for the life of me, I cannot remember his last name - and he was buddies with Joel Glass, a Magic PR staff member who had also previously worked for UF in Gainesville. Joel's ties to Greg earned us a promised 15-minute audience with the General. This is how business is conducted in my field.

My cameraman on this shoot was Tye Eastham, an Indiana graduate. Tye currently produces Magic games for Sun Sports - same age as me, wife, kids, whole nine yards - but at the time, he was just a squirrel looking for a nut, like me. This shoot was a very big deal for Tye. Not only did he attend college at Indiana, he also lived in Bloomington for a time as a kid, and played Little League with Knight's son, Pat. Tye was full-out geeked to meet Knight. Me, I was terrified.

And why not. Bob Knight was already a legend in 1996. Three national championships, a gold medal at the 1984 Olympics as the head coach of a team that included Michael Jordan and Jeff Turner, among others, and a laundry list of bad behavior. He was one of the most polarizing figures of his time, a true enigma. Celebrity to the highest degree. And I was to interview him for a feature on Evans, which we planned to air at halftime of a future Magic game.

25 years old. You try it.

So here's the setup: Tye and I drive from Indianapolis to Bloomington on a cold, rainy morning, something straight out of the movie "Hoosiers." It happened to be Homecoming for the Indiana football team, and Knight had scheduled a Red-White basketball scrimmage on the same day. Students and fans who bought a football ticket were granted free admission to the scrimmage - a move designed to generate some semblance of a crowd for the Homecoming football game. Such is life in Indiana. Gracious move by Knight.

Tye and I get to campus, find parking near Assembly Hall, and move inside to set up for the interview. Five minutes after our appointed time, Bob Knight strides into the conference room.

He moves quickly, like a man without patience. His eyes are coal-black. He eyes me suspiciously - I am media, after all. Tye attempts to soften the mood during our setup by telling him the story of playing Little League with Pat, which doesn't sway the man too much. His jaw is set. I am media. This is annoying to him, despite the best efforts of Greg and Tye.

The interview begins. I explain to Knight that we - the Magic, an NBA franchise - are producing a feature on Brian Evans. I ask him for his recollection of the recruiting process.

What followed was thirty minutes of the best interview I have ever conducted. Bob Knight was forthright, honest, and interesting. He spoke with passion about how nobody else in the Big Ten paid any attention to Evans, and got specific about what the kid would need to work on at the next level. He talked about NBA opportunities he turned down and the '84 Olympic team (with Turner, who was still playing for Orlando at the time - that's just a young producer thinking ahead to his next feature story). The only tense moment came when I asked him to "explain Indiana basketball to an Orlando audience that may not understand," a seemingly innocuous question that somehow pissed him off, slightly.

"Well," he said, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, "you just watched a scrimmage played in front of a sold-out building on the same day as the football team's Homecoming. That should be explanation enough."

Gulp. Okay, coach. My bad.

I've been doing this sports media thing since I was 18 years old, and the Bob Knight interview was one of the two or three most significant events of my professional career. It meant nothing to him, I know, but Tye and I still talk about it to this day.

Which brings me to the reason for this entry: Bob Knight is now tied with Dean Smith for the NCAA Division I victory mark, at 879. He reached that record as Texas Tech's headmaster, with a win over Bucknell on Saturday night. With the Dean long since retired, Knight will smash the record - put it away for good - by the end of this season, and he shows no sign of quitting anytime soon. He is the king.

But he's still a bully. And that bugs the hell out of me.

For many years, I've harbored an idea for a book. I'll call it "Things I Know," or something equally pithy. It will be a list of platitudes - bromides, if you prefer - that apply to any profession, any pursuit.

Many of my theories come from my mother. One of her favorites, which I have used at high school graduation speeches: "There are really only three essentials in life: something to do, someone to love, and something to look forward to."

My personal favorite, one that applies to my business in particular, is one that I came up with all on my own: "Expertise is no excuse for a lack of civility." Being smart, or successful, does not confer a license to treat people poorly. Grace matters. All of us, no matter what we do for a living, have encountered people who are very, very good at their job, and therefore believe that their abhorrent behavior is excusable. They are "quirky," which is often another word for "rude."

When I first put that to paper, I was thinking of a former ESPN executive who once told a gathered audience of anchors at a staff meeting that while we all spent a ton of time away from our families, that was the nature of our business - "I have a 3-year-old son," he said, "and I'm never around. That's the way it goes."

I remember thinking, am I supposed to admire you for this? Your employees despise you. You're impossible to work for, but you make the company a lot of money. This is okay? I should strive to be like you, and never see my kids? He lost me on that one, quickly.

You're going to read similar stories about Bob Knight in the weeks to come. He's difficult - hitting kids, fighting with administrators, saying outrageous things in public, famous for doing infamous things - but he wins like no other coach has ever won, and therefore, it's excused. He's misunderstood. He's "honest." You'll read that a dozen times in the next week, I promise you.

It's crap. All of it. Grace matters. Look at your 3-year-old tonight and ask yourself this question: if he could play college basketball for Dean Smith in his prime, or Bob Knight in his, which would you choose?

Not even close. And that's a shame, because Bob Knight is a hell of a basketball coach.

He's a basketball genius. A savant. I knew it in 1996, and I know it now. But expertise does not excuse a lack of basic civility. The man is a bully. I do not have the background to explain why that happens, but I know it exists. Grace matters.

Congratulations, Coach Knight. And thanks for the interview. You taught me more than you will ever know.

Long December

About ten days ago, I was co-hosting a Magic pregame show on Sun Sports. During rehearsal - that sacred time in television when we give each other crap over the IFB - one of the producers, Griff, said something snarky about me updating my blog twice during the last commercial break.

I took it as a compliment. Yes, I write a lot. Publish or perish. Yet, when I looked at the homepage this morning, I realized it's been nearly two weeks since I posted anything.

Why? Because I've been going pretty much non-stop since Thanksgiving.

Since December 1st, I have done the research, writing, play-by-play, and/or hosting for the following: one "Rec Warehouse College Kickoff" show, three "Tailgate Overtime" shows, one SEC Championship Game pregame show, one SEC Championship Game postgame show, four high school football state championship games (with travel to and from Miami, where I witnessed the best football game I have ever seen,) a one-hour bowl preview show for Florida, a one-hour bowl preview show for Florida State, two segments of FSN's national BCS Championship Game preview show, and the aforementioned Magic game on Sun Sports. And a partridge in a pear tree.

All of that in 21 days. Counting travel, research, scriptwriting, etc., I worked ten days in a row from December 4th (Tailgate Overtime) to December 14th (scripting those two one-hour previews for the Gators and Seminoles). However, I also managed to play three rounds of golf this month, so I'm not complaining too loudly.

Of course, if I'm doing all that work, that means that the people who do the real heavy lifting around here - the producers, directors, editors, camera operators, stage crew, and the like - are doing twice as much. Like I said, I'm not complaining. But I am a little wiped. Don't even ask about holiday shopping, 'cause I haven't lifted a finger. Hope my kids have "used FHSAA Finals press passes" on their list, because that's their best bet at the moment.

Meanwhile, the Magic still lead their division, the Answer was traded to Denver, my fantasy football team plays our Super Bowl this weekend (I love you, Frank Gore. You too, Drew Brees.), Nick Saban fights off Alabama, and my mailbox is filled with "Year In Review" issues of Sports Illustrated, Golf Digest, Unrestricted Magazine (love their columnists), Outside, and Men's Journal, none of which I have touched. It's been a long December.

What's next? Arizona. Five days in Glendale for the BCS title game, where Sun Sports will produce two one-hour shows around the Gators and Buckeyes: a one-hour preview from the Fox Sports Grille in Scottsdale that debuts on Sunday, January 7th at 4:30pm, and a live one-hour pregame on Monday, January 8th at 6:30pm, wherein Terry, Brady and I attempt to shout over the teeming masses outside the stadium during something called "College Football's Biggest Party." If you're heading for the game, stop by.

Bring something with caffeine. I'd appreciate it.

Instant Classic

Since the matchups for Florida high school football championship games aren't decided until the semifinals are played one week earlier, TV guys who are asked to provide play-by-play have precious little time to prepare. And since the Florida High School Athletic Association doesn't ask the finalists to provide official rosters and updated stats until the Monday before the FHSAA Finals, this TV guy pretty much had his hair on fire for all of Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday last week before jetting down to Dolphin Stadium to call four championship games in twenty-four hours. So a note to parents, players, alumni, and friends of the eight schools involved - if you watched one of the two games we televised live, or plan to watch any of those four games on tape-delay this holiday season, and you happen to hear me butcher some kid's name, please accept my apologies. We did the best we could with the resources we had available.

Secondly, I heard a rumor that some of the Sun Sports viewers who caught my act with Brady Ackerman during our live telecast of the Class 4A championship game between Tampa's Plant High School and Nease High School from Ponte Vedra Beach may have misunderstood a nugget I threw out. According to the FHSAA's records, the last high school from the city of Tampa to win a state football championship was Blake High in 1969. If you expand the parameters to include "greater Tampa" or the "Tampa Bay area," you've got Bradenton Southeast winning back-to-back titles in 1993 and '94. Armwood High in Seffner also went back-to-back with championships in 2003 and '04, but I've never considered Seffner to be "greater Tampa," even though the two burgs are only 13 miles apart. I guess I draw the line at Interstate 75. Still, I did mention Armwood's titles, and all of the above points, on the air during that 4A game on Saturday, but some of it may have been lost in translation. Rest assured, every point I made was grounded in research. A lot of it. With hair on fire.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I come to my point: the Class 5A championship game on Friday night between Lakeland High School and Ft. Lauderdale St. Thomas Aquinas was the best football game I have ever witnessed, at any level. Ever. Period.

For those who missed it - and the highlights were all over "SportsCenter" and ESPNews the following day, so I can't imagine how that's possible - the Lakeland Dreadnaughts beat the Raiders of STA in double overtime, marking the third straight year that these two programs have met in the state final, with the same result - three consecutive titles for Lakeland, considered by many to be the top high school football program in the country. But the final score of 45-42 doesn't do the game justice. I'm not sure anything can do this game justice.

As my friend John Buccigross said on SportsCenter that night, "the people who saw this game will be talking about it for the rest of their lives."

Here's the recap, for those who haven't seen it yet:

Lakeland led 21-0 to start the final period, as Florida prospect Chris Rainey scored twice on rushing touchdowns, the second a scintillating 73-yard dash at the beginning of the second quarter. St. Thomas Aquinas didn't get on the board - didn't get on the freaking board - until 6:07 in the 4th, when Jeremiah Harden plunged in from a yard out. 21-7, Lakeland.

With 4:21 left, another future Gator, Paul Wilson, carried the rock for a 4-yard score to make it 28-7. In the booth, Brady and I started ruminating on the impact of Lakeland's third straight title and 45-game winning streak, both of which seemed inevitable. Only natural. 28-7 with less than five minutes left.

What a stupid I am.

On the first play of the next possession, Harden goes 72 yards for another Aquinas touchdown, burning only 18 seconds off the clock. 28-14. Lakeland gets the ball back and requires only three plays to extend the lead back to 21, as Rainey does it again, this time from 55 yards out.

I should mention, at this point, that Rainey is unbelievable. He's two gears faster than anyone on the field. I should also mention that Brady and I were shaking our heads at the knowledge that remote controls were being flipped all over Florida. If the live audience on FSN Florida matched the attitudes of many fans in the seats at Dolphin Stadium - the ones who were glumly inching toward the exits at this point - it was a sure thing. 35-14, 2:25 left.

Now, it gets insane.

STA runs the ensuing kickoff back 51 yards to give themselves excellent field position at the Lakeland 23. Five plays later, Aquinas QB Wesley Carroll - the kid who hurt his shoulder in the playoffs and supposedly hasn't thrown a ball in practice in two weeks - barrels into the end zone to make it 35-21. One minute and 47 seconds on the clock.

Did I mention that St. Thomas Aquinas had no time outs? Oh.

They line up for the onsides kick, which never works. It NEVER WORKS. Only it works, because Aquinas's kicker, Wesley Byrum, is really, really good at it. Tommy Tuberville should seriously enjoy his work at Auburn next season.

The Raiders then march 43 yards in three plays - burning all of 19 seconds off the clock - before Harden goes in again at 1:28. 35-28. Lakeland is dazed. Brady and I are hyperventilating.

Aquinas lines up for ANOTHER onsides kick, which NEVER WORKS. It sure as hell can't work again, I know that.

Bingo. I am hopping up and down in the press box. Brady is speechless. St. Thomas Aquinas has the ball, again, with less than 90 seconds to play and a one-touchdown deficit.

Wesley Carroll, who is channeling Brett Favre at this point, drives his team 31 yards in four plays, aided by a personal foul against Lakeland. Leonard Hankerson tippy-toes the sideline for a TD catch. We're tied at 35.

That's 35 points scored by St. Thomas Aquinas in the fourth quarter. Correction - that's 35 points scored by St. Thomas Aquinas in eight minutes and 49 seconds. With two onsides kicks and three touchdowns from Jeremiah Harden. In eight minutes and 49 seconds.

Overtime. Over-freaking-time.

Aquinas scores first - Harden again, his 4th of the night, holy cripes - and takes its first lead of the game. Lakeland answers, finally, with a Jamar Taylor TD. 42-42. Double overtime.

The Raiders defense holds, limiting the Dreadnaughts to a field goal. 45-42.

The final play of the game is one that will be analyzed, and questioned, forever. St. Thomas Aquinas head coach George Smith, 30 years on campus, a man who has won three state titles but has lost 6 times in the championship game, makes a fateful decision on fourth-and-one.

Go for it. Harden again.

Not this time.

Harden is stopped at the goal line, and the celebration begins for the Dreadnaughts. Lakeland's third straight title, all against Aquinas. Coach Smith is now 3-7 in state title games.

Brady and I are exhausted. My father-in-law called me the next day to compliment us on the broadcast, saying that we were professional when appropriate, and completely lost our marbles when appropriate. How could we not? It was the best football game I have ever seen.

Play-by-play assignments can be a real slog. The research required to make it sound "smooth" is mind-numbingly tedious, and the information is often incredibly difficult to come by, especially for high school teams. The travel sucks, sometimes. You don't sleep much. Studio work is much more controlled, with plenty of time to ease into the show.

But weekends like this remind me why I love live games so much. I've been to almost every NBA arena, several MLB ballparks, the Indy 500, the Boston Marathon, you name it - Friday night in Miami was one of the most exciting, breathtaking, absurdly wonderful sporting events I have ever had the fortune to witness.

Simply put, it was the best football game I have ever seen. Ever. Period.

Follow Me

Follow me, brethren. I will not lead you astray.

On Friday, December 1st, 2006, I took part in the weekly picks segment of Rec Warehouse College Kickoff on Sun Sports. Among the three games presented to the panel of myself, Terry Norvelle, and Todd Wright was the SEC Championship tilt between Florida and Arkansas.

Half-jokingly - and may I stress, only half - I said the following on live television: "Florida has been winning ugly games all season long. By a blocked field goal and a fumble return for a touchdown, the Gators will win the SEC Championship."

Reality? By a blocked punt and a fumble recovered in the end zone for a touchdown, Florida won the SEC Championship. And it was ugly.

On Saturday, December 2nd, as our Sun Sports cameras covered the mayhem in Atlanta - including Percy Harvin's heartfelt yet brutal profanity on live television - Terry and I had a few moments on the Geico Gator Postgame before we went off the air at 11pm to discuss Florida's chances of reaching the BCS Championship Game.

"Terry," I said - again, on live TV - "you know what? Florida's gonna make it. Not because we think they should, but because the human element of the BCS process is so terribly predictable."

By Sunday night at 8pm, we all knew the truth: Florida made it. Not because we think they should, but because the voters were predictable. The SEC Championship Game is the most recent, vivid image of the 2006 Gator season, and that game carried the vote. The Gators are playing for your mythical national title, just as we told you they would.

I will not lead you astray.

For that matter, none of us will lead you astray. During the Gator Pregame show on Saturday afternoon, Todd Lewis teed up Chris Doering with this weighty question: "Which Florida player might have a breakout game tonight against Arkansas?"

Kids, I've been doing this a looooong time. Todd and I didn't have the chance to talk before that pregame show, but I know enough to recognize a softball when I see it. Clearly, Doering had received some kind of tipoff from his sources in the Florida football program, and he had asked Todd to give him a green light to go with it.

"Cornelius Ingram," said Doering.

Really?

Ingram? The guy who, entering that contest against Arkansas, had caught 20 passes all year? The guy with one receiving touchdown in all of 2006? THAT is your key guy in Florida's offense for the SEC Freaking Championship Game?

Reality? Ingram was the leading Gator receiver on Saturday night, with 6 catches for 71 yards. Think Doering knew something? Were you watching? Did you hear?

We were all over it. Man, I hope you watched, because we were all over it.

In the month to come, you're going to hear a lot from us at Sun Sports about Florida's chances at a first national championship since the Spurrier era of 1996. You may hear me mention - as I did during that postgame show - that since I moved back home to Florida in 2003, I have hosted the Tampa Bay Lightning's Stanley Cup Championship parade, the Miami Heat's NBA Championship parade, and the Florida Gators' NCAA basketball championship pep rally. All of those teams play on Sun Sports. All of those teams are our home teams.

The Gators are playing for a football title. Whattaya know. All I know is, we're gonna be all over it. I sure hope you watch.

Two Freaking Plays

On Saturday, October 14th, 2006, I turned to Brady Ackerman on the set of Sun Sports' live Geico Gator Postgame and said, "that play is going to keep Florida out of the BCS Championship Game."

I wish I could patent this stuff. I really do.

"That play" was Patrick Lee's 20-yard fumble return for a touchdown with no time on the clock that gave Auburn a 27-17 win over Florida at Jordan-Hare Stadium. "That play" gave Auburn a 10-point win instead of a 4-point win, numbers that can never be altered, numbers that human voters and computers (that are programmed by humans) faithfully scan to this day. One freaking play, leading to Florida's only loss of the season so far.

Actually, two freaking plays.

With two minutes and 58 seconds left in the game on that fateful Saturday night on the Plains, Florida trailed Auburn by a single point, 18-17. Auburn kicker John Vaughn - a senior, top-10 all-time at Auburn in field goal percentage, top-10 nationally in field goals made this season - had just missed a 46-yarder. Florida had the ball on its own 28, down by one, with 2:58 to go. Big Mo was wearing a Gator head.

Until the very next play, when Chris Leak gets picked off by Eric Brock. Auburn milks a good two minutes off the clock with three Brad Lester rushes, and Vaughn - who sure as hell ain't gonna miss again - doesn't miss, making a 40-yarder. 21-17, Auburn. By the time the Gators get the ball back after the ensuing kickoff, they've got 17 seconds to work with. Then comes the fumble.

To recap: 18-17 with 2:58 to play. By the time the clock reads zeroes, it's 27-17. Nine points in less than three minutes, all keyed by two plays.

Two freaking plays - both turnovers - are what's keeping Florida out of the BCS Championship Game.

Don't think so? Ask yourself this: how does a one-point road loss to Auburn compare to a 10-point road loss to Auburn? For that matter - and more to the point - how does it compare to Southern Cal's 2-point road loss to Oregon State?

Southern Cal lost a day game to the Beavers in Corvallis, where Oregon State has an all-time home winning percentage of 55%. Florida lost a night game at Auburn, where the Tigers have a home winning percentage of 75%. I'm telling you right now: were it not for two turnovers and those nine extra points, Florida would have an overwhelming case for a BCS title game berth.

Imagine how a human voter - or a computer (programmed by a human) - would weigh a one-point loss at Auburn against a two-point loss at Oregon State. Toss in the fact that Florida didn't allow an offensive touchdown against the Tigers - while the Trojans gave up 33 points to a team that barely cracks the top-50 nationally in total offense - and Florida's loss would trump Southern Cal's loss by a mile and a half. The blistering arguments of the last two weeks would never happen. Our inbox at tailgate@sunsportstv.com wouldn't be filled with detailed statistical breakdowns of Florida's schedule versus Southern Cal's schedule. Never happens. None of it. Because there's no way that any voter would consider a two-point loss at Oregon State more acceptable than a one-point loss at Auburn.

But it wasn't a one-point loss. It was a ten-point loss. Because of two freaking plays. The moment that Patrick Lee crossed the goal line under a dark Alabama sky on October 14th, Florida's national championship hopes were toast.

The caveat, of course, is the fact that this argument is based on one factor, and one factor only: quality of loss. That's the point that most Gator fans have made to us via e-mail, but in fairness, you have to consider the entire picture. Todd Wright of "Tailgate Overtime" fame has done just that with his excellent blog at the Sporting News site, so I'll save myself the trouble. This argument also completely ignores Michigan, whose only loss was a three-point barnburner at Ohio State, but the human element of the BCS process appears to be penalizing the Wolverines for three factors, only one of which the team can actually control:

1. They allowed Ohio State to score 42 points, or two field goals more than the Bucks' already lofty 36.3 ppg average;
2. Michigan's regular season is over, while Florida and USC play on (out of sight, out of mind);
and 3. Michigan had its shot at Ohio State once this season and blew it, which doesn't make a compelling case for a rematch.

Michigan has fallen out of the conversation because the human element of the BCS is relentlessly predictable. And on that note, I agree with Todd - if Florida wants to make plans for Glendale, it must crush Arkansas this weekend. Not "beat." Crush. If previous BCS reactions are any indication, a decisive win in the SEC Championship Game is Florida's best shot at BCS glory - that, plus some help from UCLA.

Otherwise, the Gators will be spectators when Ohio State faces off against Whoever on January 8th. There's no shame in that. After a six-year absence from the SEC title game, Florida fans should be happy just to have the opportunity to play for a conference title on Saturday.

Still - it has to sting, just a little, when you think back to two freaking plays. I knew it as soon as I saw it.