Coach K thanks Bobby Knight
Brett Friedlander
RALEIGH — Mike Krzyzewski’s 800th career coaching victory was barely in the books, but even as he began accepting congratulatory hugs from those he loves most — his players — his mind had already begun racing back to others who helped him reach the milestone.
First, he took a quick glance toward the heavens as a tribute to the late Jim Valvano, a close friend whose former team his Blue Devils beat at the RBC Center on Saturday.
Then the normally stoic Coach K looked directly into the television cameras at courtside, let his guard down and with tears welling in his eyes, waxed poetic about a man whose name isn’t often associated with such warm and fuzzy moments.
“I’d particularly like to thank Coach (Bobby) Knight,” he said. “As a point guard for him for three years, he taught me the game — sometimes in a manner in which I didn’t want to be taught. But I learned it and he’s been a friend and teacher and mentor ever since.”
Chances are, Krzyzewski learned as much about what not to do from watching Knight as he did from following the example of college basketball’s winningest coach.
It’s like when an impetuous father tells his impressionable son to “do as I say, not as I do.” Only in this case, it’s a General providing the sage advice to his favorite young lieutenant.
For all Knight has accomplished in basketball, including a record 902 victories, his professional genius is often obscured by a hair-trigger temper and the boorish behavior it has helped inspire.
No Bobby Lite
Krzyzewski has managed to avoid that same encumbrance by combining many of his old Army coach’s most favorable qualities with a public persona that is much more refined and upbeat.
It’s a combination that has led some national commentators to describe him as Bobby Lite. But that’s not the case.
Because he’s such a substantive, improved version of the original, a more accurate description of the 61-year-old grandfather with the self-deprecating sense of humor and difficult-to-pronounce surname might be Bobby 2K.
“I think if you try to mimic someone’s style, whether it’s great, medium or not-so-good, you’re never going to be truly who you are,” said Krzyzewski, who is on pace to surpass Knight as his sport’s all-time wins leader sometime late in the 2012-13 season or early the following fall. “But you can certainly try to mimic core values — teaching points, preparation the type of kids you want to recruit.”
You can also add discipline, loyalty and an intense, sometimes intensive drive to win to the list.
Other voices heard
Unlike Knight, though, Krzyzewski hasn’t become so intoxicated by power or blinded by praise that he has lost the ability to adjust or even listen to the advice of others.
It is inconceivable that the dictatorial Knight would let anyone’s voice but his own be heard in the huddle during a time out late in a close game.
And yet, as Duke struggled to rally from a 13-point half deficit with history in the balance against State, that’s exactly what Krzyzewski did when he stepped back and allowed his players to come up with their own solution for the problem at hand.
“Every once in a while, they don’t hear you or they don’t feel what you’re saying,” Coach K said. “Teams become really good when they talk to each other. What happens is that they take ownership (of the situation).”
That’s not to say Coach K is always so player-friendly.
There are times when his point is driven home more effectively when served with a side order of tough love.
Through the years, he’s resorted to stripping his team’s locker room of all its creature comforts, using colorful language to challenge somebody’s manhood and splicing together elaborate video loops highlighting a player’s mistakes to be shown in front of the entire team.
He might even have thrown a chair or gotten a little too up close and personal in a player’s face to get his point across. But if he has, he’s smart enough to have done it behind closed doors in the privacy of his own practice rather than on national television for all to see.
“Coach has taught me so much and made me both a better player and a better man,” That’s the way you want it,” Blue Devil senior captain DeMarcus Nelson said. “You don’t want somebody who is going to pat you on the back all the time and tell you what you want to hear. You need somebody to discipline you and tell you what you don’t want to hear.”
You can say that Krzyzewski sometimes teaches the game in a manner in which his players don’t want to be taught, which could explain the transfers of numerous McDonald’s All-Americans including Mike Chappell, Chris Burgess, Joey Beard, Michael Thompson and Eric Boateng.
The reward for those who stay, though, is much greater than just basketball knowledge.
As was the case with Krzyzewski at Army, they come away with a friend, a teacher and a beloved mentor they can count on for the rest of their lives.
Brett Friedlander
RALEIGH — Mike Krzyzewski’s 800th career coaching victory was barely in the books, but even as he began accepting congratulatory hugs from those he loves most — his players — his mind had already begun racing back to others who helped him reach the milestone.
First, he took a quick glance toward the heavens as a tribute to the late Jim Valvano, a close friend whose former team his Blue Devils beat at the RBC Center on Saturday.
Then the normally stoic Coach K looked directly into the television cameras at courtside, let his guard down and with tears welling in his eyes, waxed poetic about a man whose name isn’t often associated with such warm and fuzzy moments.
“I’d particularly like to thank Coach (Bobby) Knight,” he said. “As a point guard for him for three years, he taught me the game — sometimes in a manner in which I didn’t want to be taught. But I learned it and he’s been a friend and teacher and mentor ever since.”
Chances are, Krzyzewski learned as much about what not to do from watching Knight as he did from following the example of college basketball’s winningest coach.
It’s like when an impetuous father tells his impressionable son to “do as I say, not as I do.” Only in this case, it’s a General providing the sage advice to his favorite young lieutenant.
For all Knight has accomplished in basketball, including a record 902 victories, his professional genius is often obscured by a hair-trigger temper and the boorish behavior it has helped inspire.
No Bobby Lite
Krzyzewski has managed to avoid that same encumbrance by combining many of his old Army coach’s most favorable qualities with a public persona that is much more refined and upbeat.
It’s a combination that has led some national commentators to describe him as Bobby Lite. But that’s not the case.
Because he’s such a substantive, improved version of the original, a more accurate description of the 61-year-old grandfather with the self-deprecating sense of humor and difficult-to-pronounce surname might be Bobby 2K.
“I think if you try to mimic someone’s style, whether it’s great, medium or not-so-good, you’re never going to be truly who you are,” said Krzyzewski, who is on pace to surpass Knight as his sport’s all-time wins leader sometime late in the 2012-13 season or early the following fall. “But you can certainly try to mimic core values — teaching points, preparation the type of kids you want to recruit.”
You can also add discipline, loyalty and an intense, sometimes intensive drive to win to the list.
Other voices heard
Unlike Knight, though, Krzyzewski hasn’t become so intoxicated by power or blinded by praise that he has lost the ability to adjust or even listen to the advice of others.
It is inconceivable that the dictatorial Knight would let anyone’s voice but his own be heard in the huddle during a time out late in a close game.
And yet, as Duke struggled to rally from a 13-point half deficit with history in the balance against State, that’s exactly what Krzyzewski did when he stepped back and allowed his players to come up with their own solution for the problem at hand.
“Every once in a while, they don’t hear you or they don’t feel what you’re saying,” Coach K said. “Teams become really good when they talk to each other. What happens is that they take ownership (of the situation).”
That’s not to say Coach K is always so player-friendly.
There are times when his point is driven home more effectively when served with a side order of tough love.
Through the years, he’s resorted to stripping his team’s locker room of all its creature comforts, using colorful language to challenge somebody’s manhood and splicing together elaborate video loops highlighting a player’s mistakes to be shown in front of the entire team.
He might even have thrown a chair or gotten a little too up close and personal in a player’s face to get his point across. But if he has, he’s smart enough to have done it behind closed doors in the privacy of his own practice rather than on national television for all to see.
“Coach has taught me so much and made me both a better player and a better man,” That’s the way you want it,” Blue Devil senior captain DeMarcus Nelson said. “You don’t want somebody who is going to pat you on the back all the time and tell you what you want to hear. You need somebody to discipline you and tell you what you don’t want to hear.”
You can say that Krzyzewski sometimes teaches the game in a manner in which his players don’t want to be taught, which could explain the transfers of numerous McDonald’s All-Americans including Mike Chappell, Chris Burgess, Joey Beard, Michael Thompson and Eric Boateng.
The reward for those who stay, though, is much greater than just basketball knowledge.
As was the case with Krzyzewski at Army, they come away with a friend, a teacher and a beloved mentor they can count on for the rest of their lives.
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