Every Big Ten Conference basketball game between NCAA national championship contenders is an experience, a happening, and a must-see event. The buzz begins the morning of the game, whether it's in Bloomington, Columbus or Ann Arbor. The intensity grows as the clock moves toward game time. By early evening, students, administration officials, coaches and players are ready to burst.
So when Bob Knight's Indiana Hoosiers took the court against Gene Keady's Purdue Boilermakers on February 23, 1985, electricity permeated throughout jam-packed Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Indiana. The NCAA Tournament was coming up, only a couple of weeks away. So every victory was vital, every performance had to be nearly flawless.
But on this chilly winter night in Indiana, the Hoosiers were flawed, not flawless.
THE MOMENT
The Boilermakers seize a quick lead that rapidly balloons to an 11-2 embarrassment for the Hoosiers on their own floor. It's only four minutes into the contest, and Knight, whose temper tantrums and vile antics have earned him as much attention as his many victories, was seething. You can sense something bad is going to transpire, especially when Knight flies off the bench when a foul is called on Hoosiers guard Steve Alford with 15:59 left in the half.
Fifty-eight seconds later, when a foul is called against Indiana's Marty Simmons, Knight vehemently protests again as he stalks the sidelines -- yelling, pointing, fuming. Then, as Purdue inbounds the ball, another foul is called on Indiana, this time on Daryl Thomas. Knight goes absolutely ballistic, cussing and shrieking at the officials. He is finally hit with a technical by referee Fred Jaspers. Enraged over his team's lackadaisical start and the officials' calls, Knight loses it. He turns toward the Hoosiers' bench, fuming, wanting to take out his rage on someone, something, anything. Instinctively, he picks up a folding chair from the Hoosiers' bench, and just when you think he's going to slam it into the floor, he hurls it across the court, to the utter shock and disbelief of everyone watching.
The chair is heading right toward the wheelchair section of the arena, sliding, twisting and turning across the court, a site so outlandish and so unusual that it's like a mirage. Everyone in Assembly Hall, other than Knight, is incredulous. Knight's own players and staff have seen his uncontrollable rage before -- usually at closed practices. But this is an actual game, being played in front of thousands of people in the stands and many more on TV.
"I was shocked," Purdue's Steve Reid would say later. "I've never seen anything like this happen before."