Model Performance

Billy Knight chose this bed, so what else can he do but lie in it?

One month shy of his 23rd birthday, he is at home, such as it is, living on campus in a dormitory. From the next room music blares and freshman voices howl, but the fifth-year senior guard is lost in thought.

He considers the opportunity before him, a final chance to help UCLA climb the rankings and make a serious dent in the NCAA basketball tournament.

He recalls the homeless man whose counsel two years ago kept him from derailing his career.

He reminds himself why he returned to student housing after years of apartment living, to lend his own guiding hand to Dijon Thompson, Andre Patterson and Cedric Bozeman, Bruin newcomers with million-dollar potential and dime-store direction.

Yet sometimes the noise is too much.

He knows he sounds like somebody’s father, but he can’t help it, poking his head out the door and yelling, “Turn it down!”

Knight normally is uncommonly patient, a wise owl who cherishes a solitary perch.

On the court, he is most comfortable alone in the corner, taking a pass and letting a feathery three-point shot fly. He scored 21 points in UCLA’s most recent game, is averaging 13 and is shooting 48% from three-point range in the Bruins’ 5-2 start.

Just as important, he is a mature veteran with direct lineage to mid-1990s UCLA stars Toby Bailey, J.R. Henderson and Kris Johnson.

And this fall he is sacrificing space for simplicity, immersing himself in campus life one last time. He shares a two-bedroom dorm room with Patterson, Thompson and senior tennis player Derrick Nguyen. Bozeman lives one floor up and hangs out at their place all the time.

With a temperate lifestyle and unquestioned dedication to basketball, Knight is an ideal role model. And he is as on the mark in household matters as he is with that three-point shot.

First day in the dorms, Knight and Nguyen huddled. Moments later Nguyen turned the living room into his bedroom, meaning Knight got his own room, and Thompson and Patterson were left to share the other one.

“That was a veteran move right there,” said Thompson, somewhat in awe.

The school year has been a succession of Knight moves that educate the preening freshmen furiously flapping their wings and puffing their chests, trying to fit in, take flight and keep up.

Most days, he rises at 6 a.m. to shoot in the gym before classes. He asks Patterson and Thompson to join him. Sometimes they do. More often they sleep.

He reminds Patterson not to leave dirty clothes lying around. He drags Thompson to church.

They may not always show it, but the freshmen appreciate the well-grounded Knight, even when he comes off as an old fuddy-duddy.

“Billy is a cool guy, he shows us the ropes,” Patterson said. “He knows everything. It’s like I have a god-brother. It’s great having somebody more mature.”

The wise owl knows that giving isn’t a one-way proposition. He’s getting plenty in return.

“I look through their eyes and experience it all one more time,” Knight said. “I see a lot of energy in the freshmen. You have to have patience living in the dorms. A lot of people come over. It could get aggravating. But I chose this, and I like it.”

Knight thinks back to 1997 when he roomed with fellow freshmen Baron Davis, Earl Watson and Travis Reed. Seniors Bailey, Henderson and Johnson ignored them.

“The seniors didn’t talk to us at all,” he said. “I thought, ‘When I’m a senior I’m not going to act like this. I’ll help them out.”’

So he comes up with nicknames for the outgoing Patterson, calling him the Energizer Bunny, Inspector Gadget and Stretch Armstrong. He watches out for the more introverted Thompson and Bozeman, reminding them last week, before they head out the door, that their class times have changed because it s finals week.

Other times they must learn on their own. The day the Bruins left for the Maui Invitational, Patterson nearly missed the bus to the airport. He thought the team was supposed to meet at “the turnaround,” next to a parking lot near Pauley Pavilion, but the meeting place was actually “the tunnel,” a block away. He saw the bus in the distance pulling out and sprinted, luggage in tow, huffing and puffing as he caught up at a streetlight.

“That was pretty funny,” Knight says. “But Andre’s all right, he’s real likable. He lives life carefree.”

Knight finds himself wistful for a freshman’s wide-eyed innocence. It seems eons ago he was recruited out of Westchester High.

He played in the same summer tournaments that five years later showcased Patterson, Thompson and Bozeman, all from Southland high schools. His father transformed the backyard into a training center, with four hoops surrounded by 7-foot mannequins that ensured every shot had the requisite arc.

Nothing came easy at UCLA, though. It took Knight until halfway through last season to cement a starting position, a 22-point performance Feb. 3 in an upset of No. 1 Stanford.

UCLA was 11-3 with Knight in the lineup, and he made 40 three-pointers, shooting 42% from beyond the arc. This season, he is an integral part of a team expected to make a push for a national championship.

A steady climb it wasn’t.

He played little as a freshman, redshirted his second season because of a groin pull, took a quiet place at the end of the bench in 1999, then abruptly quit after playing one minute against Pepperdine that December.

Knight watched the next game on TV and prepared to transfer to Long Beach State. But a voice wouldn’t leave his head, a voice telling him to stay.

It was the voice of a homeless man named Carter who lived on the streets of Westwood. At one time he had been a high school basketball coach, and he liked to watch the Bruins practice.

Knight had befriended Carter and told him he was about to transfer. But Carter didn’t wish him good luck. He scolded Knight, told him he was making a mistake. And, by the way, he said, this game is about more than raining three-pointers.

“I haven’t seen you take a charge or dive for a loose ball,” Carter said. “You can’t blame the coaches for not playing you. You haven’t given UCLA your best effort.”

Carter died of cancer not long after they talked, but he left a substantial legacy in Knight, who graduated last June with a degree in sociology.

Knight honors the memory of his homeless friend by savoring every last minute of his college experience, taking classes toward a minor in African American studies and relishing his last year of eligibility.

But he’ll leave his own legacy through giving.

It started last summer when he accompanied the Christian ministry team Athletes in Action for a tour of Africa. The team also played against and ministered to prison inmates in Ohio.

After that experience, sharing close quarters with 18-year-olds is tame.

“All freshmen need to focus on school a little more and learn to manage their time,” he said. “Andre, Dijon and Ced are great kids. On and off the court, they have so much potential.”

And Knight takes it upon himself to nudge them a little closer to realizing it. Two weeks ago, he listened to Patterson agonize over playing only seven minutes against Pepperdine.

The complaint had a familiar ring. So did the advice.

“Billy says everything comes with time,” Patterson said. “That’s hard because I want it all now. Then I look at him and see how calm and controlled a person can be. I admire that.

“Everything at UCLA worked out for him. He’s the kind of person we’d all like to be.”