Feinstein also relates this anecdote, which says it all:
Often, I'm asked my most vivid memory from the time I spent with Knight. There are so many -- both good and bad -- but one sticks with me because it says so much about who Knight really wanted to be.
He and I were sitting in a Bob Evans in Indianapolis at about 1 in the morning on the eve of Indiana's game in a holiday tournament against Mississippi State. Knight was talking at length about his team's lack of toughness when a boy approached the table very gingerly. Almost always in public situations, Knight was extremely approachable as long as people were polite.
"Coach, I'm sorry to interrupt," the boy began. "But I wonder if I could ask you a big favor."
I began reaching for a pen, assuming the youngster wanted an autograph. I was wrong. His name was Garland Loper, and he was 12 years old. He explained to Knight that his father and brother would like to meet him.
"Of course," Knight said. "Where are they?"
Garland pointed across the restaurant.
"You see, Coach, they're both deaf and mute," he explained. "They talk through me. They'd like to say hello to you if it's okay."
Knight instantly waved over the two older Lopers. They signed to Garland, who spoke to Knight, telling him how much they loved Indiana basketball and how proud they were of him and his players. Knight was clearly touched by all three. He took down their home address and phone number and sent the entire family Indiana memorabilia and souvenirs. He also invited them to a game.
Before the game, Knight took the Lopers into the locker room. He introduced them to his players, and Garland again acted as the family spokesman so he, his dad and his brother could speak to the players. When he was finished, the room was absolutely silent.
"Boys," Knight said as he always did when his team had visitors. One by one, the players lined up to shake hands with the Lopers and introduce themselves.
When the Lopers had left, there was a long silence, and then Knight said, "Boys, I don't ever want to hear again how tough your lives are."
That was his pregame talk.
To this day, everyone on that team with whom I keep in touch remembers that scene.
There's no wiping out all the moments of Knight's bad behavior. They will always be part of his legacy.
But so too will the Loper family. That was the best of Bob Knight. And there is no arguing that his best was as good as it gets.
