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A day with Coach Mike Knickerbockers, a true man of the people

The Chomicle

<p>Coach Knickerbockers</p>

Coach Knickerbockers

After Duke men’s basketball failed to make the NCAA tournament for the first time since the Unabomber Manifesto was published, Coach Mike Knickerbockers invited The Chomicle to spend a day with him at his sprawling Durham mansion (it’s all he can afford, he told me, given his “peasant’s salary”). 

Here’s how the day went.

7:00 a.m.

His alarm blared, sounding like a crowd of cheering students. I looked over to the foot of his bed, where animatronic students rose up and begin bowing down to him. 

7:30 a.m.

Several butlers served us a breakfast of leftover Chicago deep dish pizza. Hurriedly, the butlers whisked up towels around Coach Knickerbockers to provide cover as he chowed down—quite noisily, might I add—on his dish. I happened to make eye contact with one of the butlers and recognized him as a manager on the basketball team. 

8:30 a.m. - 4 p.m.

He spent the majority of his day working at his home office. I had no idea how much time he spent calling random NBA superstars. 

“Have you ever heard of LeBron James?” he asked me. “I’m getting tacos with him and Oprah Winfrey next week. Ever heard of Oprah Winfrey?”

The mensch that he is, he wore his mask throughout the day. Well, other than when he would pull it down to talk to me. Or when he was yelling at one of his butlers. 

4:30 p.m.

After a long day's work, Coach Knickerbockers decided it was time for his late-afternoon drink. When I suggested we go somewhere in Durham, he spit out his tea onto his Coach K bobblehead collection, stood up from his chair with Tom Lizzo’s face on it and laughed in my face, mask down.

“You think I’d f*****g go to some s***hole a** bar in this town?” he said, with an unusual lack of swearing for him. 

We proceeded to drive to the airport, where his private jet lay in wait. His butlers dropped rose petals behind him as we strode toward the jet.

7 p.m.

We landed in some remote location for the rich and famous, he told me. The limousine took us from the airport to the “Champions Bar,” where I noticed John Calamari outside arguing with the bouncer. Coach Knickerbockers walked right past him, scoffing, “multiple-time champions ONLY, John.”

We sat down to order drinks. I got a nitro cold brew, but right when I put it to my lips Coach Knickerbockers violently slapped the glass out of my hand onto the floor, shattering it.

“You can’t f*****g drink that!” he exclaimed. “It has NIT in it.” 

Editor's Note: Happy April Fools' Day! In case you couldn't tell, this was a story for our satirical edition, The Chomicle. Check out more Chomicle stories here, guaranteed to make you laugh or your money back. 


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