Mark Montieth: Pat Knight gets a fresh start

Pat Knight had it made, scouting for the Pacers. He was living just outside of Las Vegas, flying to college basketball games and practices to evaluate talent. The climate was appealing, the pay was good, the pressure was low, the entertainment options were abundant, and he had the security of a fresh two-year contract.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not after his father Bob Knight’s death reminded him of life’s shot clock and reignited the desire to prove himself as a coach that he thought had been extinguished. Not after a perfectly-timed opportunity appeared to work for an athletic director he had known nearly his entire life—the same man who had once redirected his life at a crucial tipping point—and to do it back home again in Indiana.

“It’s personal,” Knight says.

Knight, who was introduced as Marian University’s coach in May, will coach the Knights for the first time on Friday in an exhibition game against Indiana University in Bloomington. That game will serve primarily as a fundraiser for his program but also a homecoming of sorts—for him, having played at IU for his legendary father from 1990-1995, as well as for his boss, Steve Downing, who played on the first two IU teams Bob Knight coached and then worked alongside him as an assistant athletic director at IU and Texas Tech.

Pat Knight is within an hour’s drive of arriving full circle in his basketball career. He was born in West Point, New York, in September of 1970 while his father coached at Army but was living in Bloomington the following spring after Bob was hired to reconstruct IU’s program. Pat played high school and college ball there and was later an assistant on his father’s coaching staff at IU. He also spent many emotional days there helping navigate his father through a decline resulting from Alzheimer’s before passing away on Nov. 1 last year.

Downing was the most loyal of Bob Knight’s former players if measured by home visits in Bloomington. He went a couple of times each month and spent quality time with Bob and his wife, Karen. He even read to his former coach on occasion. It was during one of those visits late in September of last year that he and Pat had time to talk while Bob lay in a hospital bed in the living room, nearly comatose.

Marian did not have an opening for a men’s basketball coach at the time; Scott Heady was about to enter the seventh season of a successful run with the Knights. But Pat let it be known he might be interested someday.

“I was kind of joking that if Heady ever moved on, I’d probably think about coming out of retirement,” Pat said. “Steve was like, ‘Why would you ever think about leaving the NBA?’ I said, ‘Two things: The way my career ended, and it’s one last chance to honor my dad. I feel like I let him down because of how my career ended.’”

All over the map

Pat’s coaching career has been all over the map, figuratively and literally. He’s been the head coach for a team in Wisconsin in the International Basketball Association, for a team in Columbus, Ohio, in the United States Basketball League, and an assistant at IU, Akron and Texas Tech. He became the head coach at Tech in February 2008 when his father retired during the season, coached three seasons after that, and then three more at Lamar University in Beaumont, Texas. He had success along the way, with a winning season at Tech in 2009-10 and a 23-12 record and First Four berth in the NCAA tournament at Lamar in 2011-12. But by the time he was fired late in the 2013-14 season, he felt burned out and betrayed.

“I was pissed off that I never got a chance to build a team,” he said. “I always felt like the rug got pulled out from underneath me. You’re promised things. … There’s no patience.”

His 79-123 combined record at Tech and Lamar wasn’t going to land him another Division I head coaching position, and he had no desire to go back to being an assistant. So, he took a “gofer” position with the Phoenix Suns and moonlighted as a bouncer at former Suns star Dan Majerle’s restaurant and bar. That led to his position with the Pacers and a contented decade scouting both college and NBA players.

Pat’s attitude toward coaching began softening a few years into his job with the Pacers, however, and by the time he had that conversation with Downing in Bloomington at his father’s bedside, it felt like an urge. And then last spring Heady left Marian to take over the Division II program at the University of Indianapolis, his alma mater.

“I was like, ‘Wow!’ Pat said.

That, however, led to an unintentional standoff. Pat thought he would hear from Downing about the opening since they had already talked about it. He had seen his father wield several coaching offers over the years and thought that was the norm. Downing, though, was waiting for Pat to reach out and express interest. The job had been posted per university regulations, and he was hearing from other candidates.

Finally, Pacers scouting director Ryan Carr, a former IU basketball manager and close friend of Pat’s, called Downing and told him Pat was interested. Downing asked how he was supposed to know that, citing Pat’s silent treatment but broke down and called him.

“I thought you wanted my job!” Downing scolded. “This is a small school. You’ve got to get online. You’ve got to answer some questions and send in your resume.”

“Steve, I haven’t had a resume since 1996,” Pat said.

His wife, Amanda, found a resume template online and they sent in what Pat called “the most generic resume ever seen.” Downing brought him in the following week for an interview and hired him.

Shaping his career

That wasn’t the first time Downing helped mold Pat’s basketball career. Pat had been kicked off IU’s team in April of 1992 after being arrested for public intoxication and resisting arrest outside a Bloomington bar. He decided shortly thereafter to escape the public eye of playing for his father and transfer to Valparaiso University. He slacked off on his academics for the rest of the semester and was at peace with his decision.

Downing called him into his office inside Assembly Hall after final exams had ended and asked about his plan for the future. When Pat told him of his plan to transfer, Downing stood up, closed the office door, lifted Pat out of his seat from behind and shook him “like a rag doll.” To put it mildly, he informed Pat in easily heard and understood terms that he was going to stay and go through the process to get back on IU’s team as others had done before him. Not just by regaining his academic eligibility and working out away from the team but through community service, as well. Pat recalls having more than 50 speaking engagements that summer, at schools, jails, senior communities—any group that would have him.

He regained his place on the team and played three more seasons at IU. A bond with Downing was established then and grew even stronger when they found themselves—Pat as assistant coach, Downing as assistant athletic director—in Lubbock, Texas, after Bob Knight took over the Texas Tech program after being fired at IU. That’s why Downing wasn’t bothered by Pat’s head coaching record, no matter how it looked on the resume.

“The thing I’ve always liked about Pat is that he was Pat; he wasn’t Coach Knight’s son,” Downing said. “I liked the way he treated people. He wanted to get it on his own. He didn’t want to get it because he was Coach Knight’s son.

“What hurt him [as a head coach] was the recruiting part of it. Where we’re located here, there’s a lot of good players. We need to capitalize on that. We’re on the same page that way. I think he’ll do a good job for us.”

For Pat, who felt undermined by administrators in previous stops, it’s a new way of working. “Rarely as a coach do you get to work with somebody you like,” he said. “He’s like an older brother to me.”

Selling the school

Knight’s name and bloodline should help him recruit talent in Indiana. He says the high school players have to Google his history, and perhaps even his father’s, but the parents already know. He also can benefit from some of the modern features of college sports, primarily the transfer portal that allows players to transfer without sitting out a season. That has shifted the recruiting focus of most Division I coaches away from the high schools to other college teams, which in turn makes more prep kids available to coaches at lower levels, such as the NAIA where Marian resides in the Crossroads League.

Pat can sell kids on immediate playing time and the opportunity to prove themselves worthy of moving on to an NCAA division, where they can dip into the Name Image Likeness pool of money. He’ll help them do it. He already has several candidates, with a roster that includes eight freshmen, three sophomores, a junior and two seniors.

It’s something to build with.

The talent and facilities at Marian bear no resemblance to what he experienced at IU and Texas Tech, and he’s taken a pay cut from his previous job with the Pacers. But that’s all fine with him. His players go to class and his cozy ground-floor office with the window air conditioner is on the same hallway as all the other Marian coaches. He interacts with them all and makes sure his players attend their games. He and his wife live downtown, and he can get to work in just 10-15 minutes. He’s an hour’s drive from Bloomington where his mother, Nancy, lives, and he can attend the Pacers’ home games whenever his schedule permits.

It’s a fresh start. But at 54, it’s also a last chance to prove himself.

“I don’t think I’m on the back nine, but I’m close,” he said. “It’s either now or never. To me, it’s just coaching. I don’t care what level. There’s no ego anymore. This situation is just perfect for me. It’s a great school. The degree means something. They’re student-athletes. They’re not guns for hire. It’s been really fun.”

He has it made. All over again.•

__________

Montieth, an Indianapolis native, is a longtime newspaper reporter and freelance writer. He is the author of three books: “Passion Play: Coach Gene Keady and the Purdue Boilermakers,” “Reborn: The Pacers and the Return of Pro Basketball to Indianapolis,” and “Extra Innings: My Life in Baseball,” with former Indianapolis Indians President Max Schumacher.