A Bully By Any Other Name 

By TAD BARTIMUS

Winning.

It's at the heart of sport. All those wonderful Olympians we've been watching on television the last two weeks got to Sydney because they're winners. Bobby Knight knows how to create winners. That's why the recent dismissal of the Indiana University basketball coach for a "pattern of unacceptable behavior" continues to resonate in our national conversation.

Knight's success at leading his teams to three NCAA championships and 11 Big Ten titles has skewed a morality debate that should have ended years ago with the words: "YOU'RE FIRED!"

When he finally was, after 29 years, there was predictable outrage from loyal young players he'd recruited, dependant assistants – including his son Pat, whom he kicked during a game in 1994 – and thousands of fans hooked on the Bobby Knight show.

But years of videotape and sworn statements prove that, for far too long, Knight had pushed himself into others' lives through intimidation and fear. We can gussy him up with all sorts of fancy phrases, accolades and statistics to support his coaching ability but there's no hiding embarrassing evidence that he is a belligerent bully who uses tantrums, rage, threats and violence to get what he wants.

We know what he's like because we're surrounded by little Bobby Knights constantly crowding us out of our space, insulting us with their language, abusing us with their power. We know what it's like to be on the receiving end, to feel helpless to stop the bullying or prevent it from happening again. Thankfully, somebody usually has the guts to say "ENOUGH!" and make it stick. With Knight, it was Indiana University president Myles Brand, who may lose his own job because he took a stand.

The only difference between Knight and the bully at the next desk or next door is his status as a basketball icon. He's gotten away with his boorish behavior for three decades because he consistently won basketball games which generated millions of dollars and enormous prestige for Indiana University and, by extension, the state of Indiana.

All those weak-kneed politicians and bureaucrats, all those easily seduced university administrators, fans, alumni, regents and faculty members who basked in his spotlight, all those solid, upstanding citizens afraid to touch the halo-ed head of the Golden Boy – they are the REAL culprits in the Bobby Knight saga.

The whole state of Indiana, including various governors and legislators who funded his program, are to blame for his arrogant transgressions. Even the NCAA, which is supposed to police its own, surely has been in silent collusion with the pro-Knight cabal because Knight's antics have always been big box office.

There is no excuse for permitting a violent adult to remain in charge of youngsters. None. Not consistent winning, not huge television revenues, not worldwide fame. If Hoosiers were asking themselves, "Would I want my son to be coached, mentored and supervised by Bobby Knight?" and coming up with the wrong answer, they should instead have asked themselves: "Do I want a foul-mouthed, physically abusive, out-of-control adult supervising my child?"

Every athlete in Sydney had a skilled coach who believed in them. Great coaches dedicate themselves to motivating their charges beyond self-imposed limits to go farther, faster, than they ever thought they could go. Through injury, self-doubt, anxiety and personal crises, coaches are supposed to be there with empathy and strength.

Their efforts aren't merely altruistic – coaches' egos are definitely engaged in making young athletes stars. The symbiosis between coach and player is precious and unique if built on respect and trust. But great coaches know that it is the player, and not the mentor, who wins the race, scores the goal, beats the time.

The best coaches inspire such victories through kindness; the worst exhort through intimidation. Coaches need to constantly be asking themselves: "What is best for my athlete?" Those who put their charge's overall well-being and happiness first will inevitably err on the side of love, not fear.

Time and again, Bobby Knight came down on the wrong side. He almost always put himself – his needs, his wants, his desires – first. He got away with it so often he came to believe he was the God of Basketball, that without him, the IU program would fall apart.

And why not? The university always caved in to him. There were never serious consequences to Bobby Knight, only a few little slaps on the wrist and some "Now, be a good boy" letters. He had carte blanche to behave as he chose so long as he kept winning.

The worst thing that can happen to basketball now is for some other school to put Bobby Knight in a position of authority and influence over more youngsters. Children need encouragement, discipline and nurturing, but they also need to learn there are real consequences for real actions. The sickness of sport these days is that too many superb athletes have been conditioned by their coaches to think they can play by different rules than the rest of us. That's why some of them wind up dysfunctional, drug-addicted, in jail or, sometimes, dead.

The Bobby Knights of this world -- and all the passive witnesses who hide behind them – must learn, the hard way if necessary, that common courtesy and civilized behavior are the underpinnings of all human interaction. That means not only at home, in the office or on the street, but also on a Final Four basketball court and an Olympic track.

Anybody who doesn't understand this is a bully who must be stopped.

© 2000 The Women Syndicate. The content on these pages is the property of The Women Syndicate and may not be used without express written permission. Contact friends@tadbartimus.com