The last guy you'd expect: when Kent Harvey bumped into Bob Knight, he didn't know he'd become public enemy No. 1.

It was midday in September, and my friends and I were picking up our Indiana football tickets. As we walked out of the stadium, we saw IU basketball coach Bob Knight. I wanted to greet him so I could say I talked to "The General." I was nervous and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, an informal and unintentionally rude greeting: "Hey, Knight, what's up?"

Coach Knight was not pleased. He looked down at me, grabbed my elbow and demanded that he be respected.

Part of me hated him for doing that, but I also had to laugh. Still, the longer I thought about it, the more distressed I became. I told my parents, and they thought it best to inform the police. The next day, I went to the campus police department with my friends. I don't know what scared me more: facing Bob Knight in the heat of his anger or facing the world through the lights and cameras of the media.

There was hostility boiling in Bloomington, so I went to Indianapolis. I was stunned by the sheer amount of e-mails (more than 500) I received. Ninety-five percent were hateful. I replied to as many as possible, but I was completely exhausted by the negativity that filled my life in just 48 hours. I was depressed, discouraged and morally drained. How could my life change so quickly?

It would change immeasurably more. The night coach Knight got fired was the night I fell in love with Jesus.

I had caught a glimpse on television of the riots in Bloomington. I was scared; I didn't know what to do. I realized I couldn't get through ...