“Damnit Zeno!,” Bob Knight said to his senior guard seconds after his UAB counterpart Robert Vaden blew by him for an easy basket. “Where the hell were you?”.

Martin Zeno walked back to the sidelines, never uttering a word. Knight just shook his head. His Red Raiders now trailed 68-67 with just 6.2 seconds remaining. Forty years of coaching, three national titles, and he was going to exit this way?

He couldn’t. Not with another first-round NCAA tournament loss. Not under these circumstances.

“I can’t lose against that f*cker,” the Texas Tech coach said to no one in particular. “I won’t end my time losing to that bastard”.

That guy used to be his former assistant coach. The guy who succeeded him at Indiana just days after Knight was fired.

“He’s dumber than that annoying guy from the Superbowl, Ryan Seaweed, or whatever his name is”.

“Ryan Seacrest, Dad. From ‘American Idol’”.

Stunned, Knight shot a look back.

“You know that guy’s name? Do you watch that sh*t?”.

“I think Randy Jackson provides good analysis”.

Coach Knight stared at Pat, then walked to his team, no longer sure whether losing the game was worse than what his son just said.

Twenty feet away on the opposite bench stood the man who, over the last seven years, became Knight’s arch rival.

“We got ‘em right where we want them,” UAB coach Mike Davis said.

Many coaches think they know how difficult it would be to follow a legend. Few understand it better than Davis.

On September 10th, 2000, Indiana fired Knight. The school soon named Davis its new head coach. Though he never said so publicly, Knight couldn’t stand Davis, feeling betrayed he took the job. And for six years, Davis found it impossible to reunite the Hoosier fan schism - Despite making the NCAA tournament four times (and the NCAA title game in 2002) Davis missed the big dance twice, and by the February 2006 day IU announced he was coaching his last year, Mike had lost the state of Indiana.

Now, just more than a couple years after his final run at IU gained him the UAB head coaching job, just a few days after his Blazers upset win over then-unbeaten Memphis gained them entry into the NCAA tournament, Davis could do something he wanted desperately to do: Beat the man he’d come to dislike, his former boss, Knight. Because of Vaden and his 36 points, that was closer than ever now.

“We’re need to give ourselves a chance at two shots,” Knight yelled to his team.

Knight knew this was one of his better coachings jobs: Just 12-8 in early February and squarely on the NCAA tournament bubble, the Red Raiders won 11 of their final 13, including a stunning win at Kansas and a trip to the Big 12 title game. And Zeno, the man who forgot to play help defense on Vaden, was, ironically, the man who made it all happen, scoring 20 points in eight of the last ten games.

“The ball’s gotta go to that Zorro dude,” Davis told his team.

“Uh coach, his name is Z …” assistant coach Donnie Marsh started, before letting his boss talk to the team. Marsh cringed the previous Saturday when, after beating Memphis, Davis used the post game press conference to thank Jesus Christ and congratulate “Coach Calamari”.

Suddenly, in the huddle, Davis stopped his speech.

“Donnie,” Mike said to his assistant, “You realize Knight coached the Hoosiers for all those years?”.

Confused, Marsh crinkled his forehead, looked down, then up and said “Yup”.

“I know what they’re gonna run here,” Davis said. “They gonna run the picket fence”.

Stunned, assistant coach Dusty May tried to talk to Davis. “Um, coach, that was the movie we saw on the bus …”.

Davis shook his head. “They gonna run the picket fence,” he said before diagramming a defense. Marsh turned around, hand massaging his forehead, and walked a few feet towards center court. When he came back, all he heard was “Now boys, don’t get caught watching the paint dry”.

Marsh now feared the worst.

Texas Tech broke from the huddle. UAB followed. Despite what happened the play before, the entire arena figured Zeno would take the final shot.

“I hope this works,” Pat Knight muttered to himself. His father stood feet away, not wanting to sit if this was his final moment as a coach.

Zeno caught the inbounds pass and took two dribbles inside the arc, stopping just as a second Blazer defender came towards him.

“It’s Zorro!,” Davis screamed. “I knew it ..”

But just as the second defender cam, Zeno spotted the man he wanted: Alan Voskuil, wide open at the top of the key.

“There it is,” Pat Knight mumbled. His father saw the same thing.

Zeno fired the pass to Voskuil with just over three seconds to go. When Voskuil caught it, his defender was at least five feet away, helping on Zeno. This would be his chance, the backup shot they thought might be opened.

He wasted no time firing the shot.

“Who the hell is that?,” Davis said. No one on the bench wanted to tell him Voskuil already hit three 3-point field goals.

The entire Texas Tech fan section came to its feet. For them, it was their season. For the guy on the sidelines, it could be the end of his time in Lubbock.

“Get in there,” Bob Knight muttered to himself.

The ball flew towards the rim, but hit none of it. It went straight through the net. The crowd went crazy. The clock showed just 0.5 seconds remaining.

“Was that the picket fence?,” Davis yelled at Marsh. Donnie didn’t even answer.

UAB inbounded quickly, and Vaden threw up a shot from near three quarter court. It wasn’t close. Bob Knight’s career would continue.

The team rushed Voskuil, climbing all over him as the cheerleaders went crazy. The UAB coaches made their way towards to Red Raiders bench, unsure if Knight would even acknowledge Davis. The two were no more than five feet away from each other multiple times before the game, yet neither said a word.

This time would be different, if only slightly. Knight walked to Davis.

“Good game, Bob,” Davis said.

Knight didn’t look him in the eye or respond. He simply shook Davis’s hand quickly, then moved through the UAB coaches before making his way to the locker room. This would not be his night to exit coaching. And he had the win he wanted so badly.

Knight talked to his team for about two minutes, but kept getting interrupted by a buzzing cell phone.

“Pat, what the f*ck is that?,” he said.

“Um, someone is sending you a few text messages”.

“A what?”.

“Text message. Like an email on your cell phone”.

Knight walked towards the phone to look at the message. It read:

“Congrats on the victory. Another victory and you’ll likely face us in the sweet 16! LOL! K Sampson”.

Suddenly, the euphoria of the win wiped away. Knight took the cell phone and threw it against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

The coach had his big win. He just wouldn’t be able to call anyone to tell them about it.