ACCORDING TO Bobby Knight, the person a high school basketball star most admires–his high school coach–sometimes pockets the first cash exchanged in the illegal bidding war for the youth.
For a coach who never has been accused of illegal recruiting, Indiana`s outspoken Knight knows a lot about the process that enables some players to pick up $100,000 or more during their college careers as ”amateurs.” In a recent interview with The Tribune, he agreed to spell out the details without leveling specific accusations against schools or individuals.
Although it is the college programs that cheat which must be held accountable, in Knight`s opinion, he said that ”a minority of high school coaches with their hands out” often set the process in motion. For instance, they may steer their players to various colleges or to summer basketball camps directed by college coaches after first striking a bargain for themselves.
In Chicago, as elsewhere, Knight said, ”The majority of high school coaches are really good people who are concerned with what`s best for the kid.” But also in Chicago, as elsewhere, ”some coaches–and they are invariably terrible coaches, guys who can`t coach anyway–have their hands out to get something for themselves. Money, car, clothes, all kinds of things.”
NATIONAL COLLEGIATE Athletic Association rules forbid a prospect from getting free tuition to camps, but a high school coach may cut a deal that means a free ride for his kid plus a deal for as much as $1,000 or more for himself. Knight explained how it works:
”The school (college) pays the high school coach the $200 or whatever it is for the kid`s camp tuition, and the high school coach then walks into the registration line and puts down the cash. So everyone sees that the tuition is paid.”
That takes care of the NCAA rule. Taking care of the high school coach is more expensive. Often, the college coach vastly overpays him as a lecturer or counselor at the camp.
”WE PAY OUR coaches $180 a week, and we pay about as well as anybody,”
said Knight, who runs a camp. ”But I guarantee you there are these coaches of prospects who pick up $500 or $1,000 a week, and sometimes all they`ll do for this is give a two-hour lecture.”
College coaches who run summer camps, Knight noted, sometimes get burned by high school coaches who are hustling their prospects to anybody with money to pass out.
”The woods are full of stories like this,” Knight said. ”I know a coach who went to the same camp for three consecutive years, and his prospect never even considered going to that college. That high school coach made at least $500 a week all three summers. I`m not sure he ever `worked` there a single week. He went down there and `lectured.` ”
SUMMER CAMPS aren`t the only money-making vehicles for high school coaches with their hands out, according to Knight.
”I`ve heard college coaches tell me,” said Knight, ”that the first thing a high school coach told them was, `Well, I need a couple of rebounding machines` or `I need a new car or a TV` or `When you start taking my kids to your camp for free, then I`ll start letting you recruit my kids.` ”
Legislating against such practices would be difficult, Knight conceded.
”Perhaps you shouldn`t let the coach of a high school prospect work a summer camp,” Knight said. ”Perhaps you should say that a kid who`s a prospect can`t go to a summer camp run by a college coach.
”But what if the kid`s family, for example, are Indiana graduates? And what if the kid`s always wanted to come to Indiana? And he`s been going to Indiana`s camp for six years before he was a prospect? You need simple, effective rules, but sometimes it`s tough to work them out.”
KNIGHT KNOWS, however, what actions he will recommend to the college coaches in regard to flesh-peddling high school coaches.
”As far as I`m concerned, I`d go right to the principal of the high school,” said Knight, ”because that`s the responsibility of the college coach. And, if you don`t get any satisfaction from the principal, then go to somebody on the board of education. I`d say, `If you know anything about this stuff, you`d better start cleaning it up right away.` ”
There is another kind of flesh peddler, and any college coach who has recruited the Chicago area is familiar with him. He is the would-be ”agent” who befriends a kid by buying him soft drinks and hamburgers when the kid is playing in high school summer leagues.
”The potential agent,” Knight said, ”will recommend the kid to a specific school. He and the (college) coach have a tacit understanding that the coach will always try to have this guy in mind to be the kid`s agent when time comes for the kid to play in the pros. The agent supplies the kid with a little money when he`s in school. The guy spreads a few hundred dollars here and there.”
Usually, these small-time agents get burned just like the ripped-off players who end up with neither a pro career nor a college degree. If the player becomes a high-round pro draft pick, he invariably selects a big-name agent. The potential agent goes back to the playground.
You might have noticed that the prospect has received only a tuition-free ride to summer camp while his coach has picked up the cash. But the player can afford to wait. If he`s interested, the big offer is forthcoming in the form of off-season employment.
”What`s so nauseating,” said Knight, ”is that, in so many cases, instead of talking about an opportunity to play basketball and get an education (when recruiting players), it`s become a case of how much money a summer job is worth.”
KNIGHT SAID HE has no problem with the idea of helping find summer jobs for players who have enrolled at Indiana or even for members of their families.
”A coach asked me, `Are you in the summer job business?` ” said Knight. ”I tell a kid that if he`s willing to work we get him a job, and he`ll make enough money in the summer to take him through the year to date and whatever. I think the figure at Indiana is something like $800 a year after paying college costs. But I never mention an hourly figure.
”And if a kid`s been at Indiana, say, two years and his brother is laid off, I`d try to help his brother get work. I don`t think there`s anything wrong with that. What I`m talking about is an inducement to go to school.”
THESE INDUCEMENTS, Knight said, include bidding wars with offers of jobs that pay $8, $10, $12 an hour and more. Sometimes they include bogus overtime payments or irregular fringe benefits.
A salary of $12 an hour for straight time plus 10 hours of overtime a week could add up to some $8,000 for 12 weeks of summer work by a player. The payoff, Knight explained, can go even higher.
”You have an alum who saves a real plush job,” said Knight. ”It may be a full-time job, but he makes a part-time (summer) job of it and that`s his contribution to the school`s athletic program. Sometimes the kid is paid for overtime he doesn`t work.
”Sometimes, tied into the job, there`s a company benefit–say a travel benefit for full-time employees–and it`s extended to this part-time employee.”
WHEN CLARK KELLOGG, now an Indiana Pacer star, enrolled at Ohio State, there were reports that he had a cushy summer job selling insurance and that he was making commissions selling policies to big shots in the Buckeye alumni clubs.
”I checked that out,” said Knight. ”I asked Eldon Miller, and I learned it was okay because Kellogg was being paid a regular hourly wage.”
Jobs aren`t the only way money is funneled to athletes. Knight said,
”There have been cases where shoe companies have done things for kids while they`re still in school, almost like an endorsement while they`re still in school.”
The next step in this area, Knight fears, might be a financial link between a shoe manufacturer and a school that regularly sends stars into the National Basketball Association. The school might then add some of that money to the prospect`s ”package.” ”It could be part of the kid`s going to school,” said Knight, ”the company getting tied in with the school, saying
`We`re going to help out.` ”
KNIGHT DOUBTS that cheating will ever end. However, he has suggestions to chip away at the abuses.
”A chip here, a chip there,” Knight said. ”For example, give the kids $100 a month (for living expenses). I know, you`ll say, `Give them $100 legally and somebody will offer $200.` But it`s a chip. The $100 will satisfy some kids. They`ll say, `This is enough to get by on.`
”Here`s another thing I have no trouble with. Each school has a contingency fund, and each check has to be signed by the athletic director and faculty representative, not by the coach. And it`s all preset.
”If you have a kid who can`t afford to buy clothes, you can buy him a blazer, a sport jacket, two pairs of slacks, three shirts, two neckties, whatever. The faculty rep and the AD sign it, and it goes into Indiana`s folder with the NCAA.
”Same thing if the kid has to go home for a death in the family or some other emergency. I think there are legitimate expenses the athletic department has to be responsible for.”
ANOTHER ”CHIP,” Knight believes, would be to relax the rule that prevents an athlete from having a part-time job while he attends summer school. Knight admitted this opens the door for bogus jobs, but he would take that risk in order to enable the athlete to move closer to what Knight perceives as his No. 1 goal, earning his degree.
”This sounds very logical to me,” Knight said. ”If you don`t graduate a kid within five years, you lose that scholarship. You can`t replace it until he graduates. And yet, I`ve had coaches tell me: `I`ve had kids who don`t graduate, Bob, but they`ve developed social graces. They`ve learned how to act among people. . .`
”Well, I tell them: `That`s bull! Send `em to charm school then!` The purpose of a university and attending it are No. 1 to get a degree and No. 2 to confer degrees. `Social graces,` bull!”
KNIGHT KNOWS that some skeptics will scoff at his views because they come from a high-salaried coach who has high-school superstars flocking to his door.
”They`re saying, `That guy is coaching at Indiana and making all that money; it`s easy for him to say that.` But damn it, it`s convenient for them to forget that I coached eight years at West Point. And that`s as tough a recruiting situation as there is in the world. I spent eight years there where you have to sell a kid on a five- or six-year military obligation.
”There isn`t anybody who had eight more difficult years recruiting and competing than I did.”
