Indianapolis —
There was only one man in the Hoosier state who could have taken the stage and been as frank, unrestrained, carefree, confrontational and colorful as Donald Trump.
Bob Knight, the coaching legend who made his name at Indiana University, strode to the podium inside the Indiana Farmers Coliseum dressed in a familiar crimson sweater and spoke in a familiar tongue. “They talk about [Trump] not being presidential,” Knight said.
“I don’t know what the hell that means.”
Naturally.
Knight and Trump are kindred spirits, both renowned or notorious, depending on your view, for their bluntness and combativeness and lack of concern about their public perception for either trait. It was a certainty that the ex-leader of the IU men’s basketball program, fired in 2000 after violating a zero-tolerance conduct policy, would praise Trump effusively. But he took hyperbole by the shoulders and hugged the heck out of it.
“You folks are taking a look at the most prepared man in history to step in as president of the United States,” Knight said. In his view, Trump will take his place alongside the Founding Fathers.
The audience inside the some 8,000-seat venue, packed into the lower bowl and the center of the floor, loved the assessment. They cheered one of their favorite sons loudly, as much for his compliments of Trump as for his mere presence. Knight thanked the Hoosier audience for all the time he spent coaching hoops in the state; he hasn’t ever reconciled with his former employer amid the fallout from his dismissal.
Trump knew Knight would be a hit with the crowd. “What a winner that is,” he said of his celebrity endorser.
“He’s a winner, he’s a champ, he’s been so great for Indiana.”
So bent on winning was this environment that an advertisement for a financial services company on the arena’s interior wall read, “BE PART OF A WINNING TEAM!” It was situated, where else, above the word “America” on an electronic marquee displaying Trump’s campaign slogan.
The remainder of his remarks were typical fare, laced with talking points, catchphrases, and references to the air conditioner manufacturer Carrier, tailored especially for this Indiana audience. The company announced in February that it would be relocating its Indianapolis plant to Mexico and has become a target of Trump’s punitive trade policy on the campaign trail.
He made his closing pitch to voters simply by saying, “If we win Indiana, it’s over.”
Not that he believes Ted Cruz or John Kasich have an opportunity to deny him the Republican nomination, anyway. He’s firmly at the point of commenting on their personal habits as much as their political pitches: He doesn’t like the way Cruz talks, and “I don’t like the way that Kasich eats, but that’s okay.”
More laughs from his supporters—the usual for a group that gobbles up his brand of insult comedy. But it was a well-behaved bunch.
One backer, a recent Indiana transplant by way of Arizona, said she drove an hour west to catch Trump because of the unprecedented nature of the race.
“This is a historic election, and I wanted to be a part of it,” said Paula from New Castle. (The Hoosier newbie politely declined to provide her last name.) She said she’s going to adopt a rural Indiana tradition of displaying a presidential campaign sign in her yard, something we both observed has become more uncommon this election.
I asked her if her sign will be “yea” small or “yea” big. She emphatically hoped it was the latter.
“Go big or go home, right?” she quipped.
That’s all that’s left for Trump’s rival Cruz to do, which he began Wednesday by naming Carly Fiorina his prospective running mate.
It’s all that Trump has been doing all election, yet again this week in Indiana.
