Bob Knight hadn't opened his mouth, but already the former quick-tempered Indiana University men's basketball coach was intimidating people.

His reach extended outside, beyond the doors of the Ramada Wagon Wheel Theatre.

"Do you think he will be mad at us if we're late?" asked someone trotting to the doors with seconds to spare before Saturday's 4 p.m. show.

No, if people arrived late, Knight didn't call them on it. But the time away from coaching hasn't turned him as soft as the belly he carries, either. The emcee started his introduction of Knight by telling all those present to turn their cell phones and pagers off. "Better me asking you than someone else," the man warned as the audience chuckled.

You can love him or hate him, agree or disagree with him, but the legendary coach with three national titles is an attention-getter. During his introduction, the emcee said the Wagon Wheel in the last 20 years has "never had the response to a guest that it had to Coach Knight." These were Knight supporters, people who blurted things like, "he got railroaded," during the introduction.

Knight's appearance attracted so much attention an extra show had to be added at 4 p.m. Knight sold out three Saturday shows, approximately 800 people per session, at $34 a ticket. All told, that was $81,600, not including his price of $20 for an 8x10 picture or $100 for an autographed ball.

When Knight finally strode into the center of the theater, he received a prolonged standing ovation. He would receive one 80 minutes later at the end as well.

Now that his ties with Indiana University are severed, the red sweater wasn't present. Knight wore a light blue-green, V-necked sweater with a checkered shirt underneath and green slacks.

Predictably, Knight's first reference was to the set-up at the Ramada Wagon Wheel Theatre. The seating is a bowl, making whoever is in the middle - Knight -Êthe doughnut hole. No matter how Knight tried to stand, his back was always to someone.

"In this position," Knight said, "I'd be in a [expletive] of a shake if there were some IU administrators [behind his back], so I'll try to walk around."

The pro-Knight audience roared at that one.

If those who shelled their $34 out were hoping for him to rehash how Indiana University fired him or to discuss his interview that appeared in Playboy Magazine - at one point, Knight and writer Lawrence Grobel were in a car, something triggered Knight's volatile temper, and Knight, sitting in the front passenger's seat, turned around with knees on the seat, grabbed Grobel's wrists and shrieked expletives at him to hand over the tapes - they left disappointed. On this day Knight made little reference to losing his job, other than jabs here or there.

He scolded a 20-something male in the front row for wearing a hat indoors, always a no-no to the old-fashioned disciplinarian Knight. The man left it off.

A couple of times Knight asked for volunteers from the front row to help him demonstrate something. If Knight touched his arm to show him how he wanted him to stand, he cracked, "Is your stepfather here?" in reference to Kent Harvey's father-in-law. Harvey was the student Knight grabbed by the forearm when he felt he didn't address him with respect when he said, "Hey, Knight, what's up?" This caused Knight to violate his zero-tolerance policy and lose his job as Indiana University men's basketball coach after 29 years.

Harvey's stepfather was a vocal Knight critic before the incident.

The grabbing-the-arm-and-referring-to-the-stepfather bit drew gales of laughter.

The same wise-cracking Knight proved he could be classy by asking all those present who served the United States military to stand up and be recognized. Knight and the audience then applauded them.

The best stuff came at the end, during a question-and-answer session.

Will he coach again? "I would like to coach, it's all I'm really good at," he said to a round of applause.

Where might he coach? "I don't care where."

Louisville, where Denny Crum is on shaky ground? "No. It's too close to where I don't want to be."

What do you with a team (Indiana) that can't shoot free throws? "Teach those players not to get fouled."

His most satisfying victory at Indiana? "My most satisfying victory was seeing (former player) Winston Morgan get a degree. Here's a kid who scored a 450 on his SAT. I asked him if he spelled his name Margon when he took it."

Clearly Bob Knight wanted to talk about the person most important to him, Bob Knight. He picked the perfect place, because the man who wanted to be the center of attention was indeed in the center in this theater.

It still seems to grate on him that he didn't get to leave on his terms at IU. He repeated what he has said in interviews, "I had a great experience at Indiana over a 24-year period. I blame myself for not leaving five years ago."

He talked about his appearance on the Larry King show and how he thoroughly enjoys King, because "he gives me time and let's me say what I want to say, which is good for me."

This comment sparked applause from those gathered.

Knight referred little to past IU days, players or the titles he won.

Instead, he spent much of his time talking about his youth.

There was the second grade, when his mother was his teacher: "Pregnancy for you ladies could not have been as bad as having your mother for a nine-month period as your teacher in the second grade," he said.

Knight walked around the circle as he told his stories, often with one hand in his pocket. He occasionally popped a peppermint in his mouth, or, harkening back to the Northwestern game, passed them out. Renown for his salty language, for him, he kept it relatively clean, other than a he-- here or there.

Knight still believes he should change nothing about himself as much of his speech laid groundwork for why he does what he does and why it's OK. He went as far to compare himself to one of the most storied presidents in history.

"I rarely do anything that meets everyone's approval," Knight said. "That's OK. Neither did Lincoln."

The last part of Knight's speech wound up with Joe Lapchick stories.

Lapchick helped shape Knight into the person he became, and Knight is grateful for that.

Lapchick, who died at the age of 70 in 1970, played for the Original Celtics and went on to coach St. John's and the New York Knicks. While with the Knicks, he brought the first black player, Nate "Sweetwater" Clifton, into the league. On the sidelines, the high-strung Lapchick would stomp on his jacket and smash chairs.

Knight attributed Lapchick to giving him one of his four cornerstones of coaching. What Lapchick then asked Knight explains why he acts the way he does today.

"Is it important to you that people like you?" he asked Knight. "If it's important to you that people like you, you will never be able to make good decisions."

Knight bolted that premise down inside his mind and has never strayed from it.

"I've tried to do one thing in coaching," he said. "Give my kids an advantage in life. I wanted a player to experience where demands are made of him, where he was required to excel, so he could handle things in life down the road.

"I tell you parents, you better hope your kid has a teacher like I was."

The teacher hopes to soon return to the sidelines. [[In-content Ad]]