He is known mostly for his sideline banter. He is the coach that is jumping up and down on the sidelines, getting in the face of his players, demanding absolute excellence from them. He is the coach that can rip a player to their limits just in order to build a stronger, more basketball-savvy one. He is a tough, hard-nosed coach that players can loathe at times during the season.

He is also the coach hugging his sweat-drenched players, congratulating them on a well-earned ovation from the crowd. He is the coach who wears the blue shirt and red tie, both saturated with perspiration after a hard-fought game. He is a coach that everyone wishes they could play for while his players have nothing but admiration for the man.

He is Kelvin Sampson, head coach of the Indiana University men's basketball team.

He has helped mend a Hoosier team and fan base that was split apart just one short season ago. He has arguably the best high school player in the nation counting down the minutes until he can suit up for the Cream and Crimson. He has his Hoosier team on track to make a late-season push for the Big Ten crown.

Sounds perfect, right? Pretty close.

However, the uphill, dirt road that got him to this point was anything but perfect.

Sampson grew up in Pembroke, a small town in North Carolina. It was a typical small town just 14 miles from the South Carolina border. His father was a basketball coach of Pembroke High School, while his mother was a nurse at doctor's offices and hospitals.

In high school, he was a three-sport star. He was the team's starting point guard on the hardwood, the quarterback for the football team and an outfielder for the baseball team. While he admits he was "only a good high school player" in basketball and "wasn't very good" in baseball, he did continue the two sports during his time at college.

With his siblings, he was a boy among girls, literally. He had a set of older twin sisters, along with a twin sister of his own and a younger sister. Unfortunately, one of Kelvin's older twin sisters passed away at a young age, leaving the Sampson family with four children all under the age of ten.

During his early years, Sampson had little association with his father. In the early 1960s, being an athletic coach at a high school meant wearing more than one hat. His father would be forced to coach two or three different teams during the school year.

His family had little money growing up. Even during the summer, Ned, Kelvin's father, would have to work twice as hard as normal families just to keep food on the table. At times, he had to pick up as many as three jobs as a Drivers' Education teacher, a tobacco marketer and a life-insurance salesman.

Because of this, Kelvin formed a close relationship with his mother, but also picked up habits of his father.

"My dad was always gone when we got up in the morning because he had to be at work at six," Kelvin says. "I didn't see him a lot throughout my formative years, especially when school started. But I did pick up on things during my formative years, which is a time that really molds a person. My dad and mom had a tremendous influence on me because of their work ethic."

Financial hardship was not the only battle his family, especially his father, was fighting.

Kelvin grew up with Lumbee Native American heritage at a time when race was a sensitive subject and the Ku Klux Klan was raining hatred upon American minorities, including American Indians. Living in North Carolina, the entire Sampson family was at risk of becoming possible targets of violent acts toward minorities.

However, Ned Sampson had no intentions of putting his family through that hardship. On Jan. 18, 1958, Ned, along with nearly 500 more Lumbee Indians and their weapons, chased the KKK out of the North Carolina in a battle now known as the Battle of Hayes Pond.

Kelvin, who was just two years old at the time, remembers seeing pictures and hearing stories of that night.

"The biggest Ku Klux Klan concentration in North Carolina was just one county over from us, so I remember the KKK growing up," Kelvin says. "They had a rally in a field outside of Pembroke and a lot of his friends jumped in cars, had their weapons of choice and went and they broke it up.

"That was part of the lure of Pembroke, too. A lot of people still think about that," Kelvin says.

Kelvin's life in coaching had been laid out for him for years, even if he didn't know it at the time. His father was a famous high school coach who is now in the North Carolina High School Coaches Hall of Fame for his superb coaching numbers.

Despite the father-son relationship, Kelvin treated his father as a learning tool. Mentally, Kelvin took notes of everything from Ned's coaching days. From games, to practices, to how he modeled himself to his team, Kelvin was learning from him without even saying a word.

"His demeanor was totally different than mine," Kelvin says. "He always had a calming influence to him. I tend to be a lot more demonstrative, but my personality has always been a little louder that his. He is kind of quiet, but when he spoke, everybody listened."

However, with his father being the head coach, Kelvin could take notes on what went on behind the scene. He was able to get a first-hand look at just how close Ned was with his players and the meaningful role he played in their lives.

"Growing up I got to see the impact he had on his kids' lives," Kelvin says. "I also noticed the impact he had on the kids after they left; they always came back. Even if they moved away, they would always come around at holidays. I mean they really, really looked up to him. I said, 'Wow,' what an empowering profession to become a coach. I wanted to be a lot like him."

And the ideas of a future hall of fame coach were born.

Kelvin never thought of becoming a college coach. He didn't know a college coach or any of the struggles and benefits that come with the job. Thanks to his father, he knew only high school and was content with teaching 16, 17 and 18-year olds.

"There was never a point in my career when I wanted to be a college coach," Kelvin says. "I played at a little NAIA (National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics) school. I knew nothing of it."

Kelvin went on to college at Pembroke State University, now formally known as UNC Pembroke, just minutes from his home. He majored in political science and health education, took the LSAT and planned on heading to Wake Forest Law School. However, after weighing his possibilities, Kelvin decided against the idea.

"Don't ask me why (I wanted to go there), I don't even know," Kelvin says. "I kind of wanted to see if I could. We all set for ourselves little challenges. But in the back of my mind, I think I also knew that I was going to coach. Basketball was in my blood."

So instead, Kelvin headed to Michigan State. While he was there, he pursued his master's degree in coaching and administration, a required education in order to become a head coach and teacher at a small college. He, again, became the student. This time he earned his knowledge as a graduate assistant under Jud Heathcote.

While there, Kelvin was in charge of the junior varsity team. He was able to get his experience first-hand. When his team was not playing, he helped with practices and breaking down game tape with Heathcote.

Kelvin also had a good group to learn from. In his one season with the Spartans, Magic Johnson led his MSU squad to a National Championship over Larry Bird and Indiana State. The victory helped Kelvin realize that the collegiate level was the place for him.

"Had it not been for that J.V. team, I don't think I would have had an opportunity," Kelvin says.

After his National Championship run, Sampson left the Big Ten and Michigan State for his first career coaching position with Washington State. However, this would not be the last time the Big Ten heard from Kelvin Sampson.

During his brief tenure with the Orediggers, Kelvin established a much-needed identity for himself and his team. After a short stint as an assistant coach, Kelvin was named the interim coach for one season.

However, his work was certainly cut out for him. In just the three years prior to his arrival, Montana Tech's basketball team had garnered just a combined 17 wins and had gone through five different coaches during that period. But Kelvin was not going to let his new team, despite early setbacks, settle for mediocrity without putting up a fight.

Joe McClafferty personally knows of the struggles that Kelvin endured during the early part of his career. McClafferty, who played forward for Kelvin, saw the heart that he put into the team and the program.

"When he came here, we weren't very good," says McClafferty, who is now the Athletic Director at Montana Tech. "In the year before he came here, we only won one conference game and went 4-23 (for the season). He took over a program that was in shambles and got it back on track."

Back on track may have been an understatement. Sampson spent four seasons as head coach and compiled a 73-45 record. He put up three straight seasons of 22 wins, plus three straight Frontier League championships. He was also named the league's Coach of the Year in 1983 and 1985.

Not bad for a coach who had just celebrated his 30th birthday. However, the wins did not come without sacrifice.

Montana Tech is located in Butte, Mont., miles away from any of their closest competitors. While their isolation away from other colleges made it difficult to schedule games, the team was forced to make numerous 700-mile trips through Canada just to play a game.

One specific game against Lethbridge College in Calgary was especially difficult. Due to a smaller-sized athletic budget, Kelvin and his Oredigger team were forced to make the long trips by bus. However, after their game against the Kodiaks, bad weather finally took its toll on the aging bus, ripping its front door right off the hinges.

With even worse weather looming, Kelvin took the matter into his own hands. He, with the help of his team, lifted the door back on the hinges. With no tools or immediate help in sight, Kelvin used the team's athletic tape to secure the door and ensure that it was closed. The bus did not stop one time on the 350-mile trip home, not even for a bathroom break.

"We peed in whatever we had to pee in," McClafferty says. "But it was just a mental toughness thing. We had other trips when the bus broke down and we had to hike to the games. I always felt with him that we were never out of a situation and that kind of carried over in life. He taught me to get done what I needed to get done."

When Kelvin left Montana Tech in 1986, he was named the assistant coach to Len Stevens at Washington State. After serving under Stevens for two seasons, he was named the head coach in 1988.

At the time, many considered it the worst job in the Pac-10 due to powerhouses like Arizona, Stanford and UCLA. To Kelvin, he saw the glass as half-full.

"I had a knack for getting jobs, but they were tough jobs," Kelvin says. "But I was 31, so I didn't see the problem, I saw the opportunity. I realized that was my calling."

Again, Kelvin's winning ways followed him to the Cougars. After just four seasons, Kelvin led WSU to its first postseason play since 1983. Just two seasons later, he led Washington State to the NCAA tournament. During his tenure, he captured awards for Pac-10 Coach of the Year and Coach of the Year by the National Association of Black Coaches.

The awards and hard work finally paid off on April 25, 1994, when Kelvin became the 11th coach of the Oklahoma Sooners, landing the big job after 10-plus years. He would prove his worth right away after he helped his team to a 23-9 record, including a perfect 15-0 at home to be named the National Coach of the Year by the Associated Press.

Kelvin would spend 12 years at Oklahoma. He would eventually compile a .721 winning percentage, the highest in Sooner history. He averaged nearly 26 wins per season during his tenure and led Oklahoma, which was once thought of predominantly as a football school, to 10 NCAA berths in his 11 seasons as head coach.

Then opportunity came knocking once again.

The Indiana Hoosiers had just lost their head coach and were searching for a replacement. Kelvin had received a call.

"(My first reaction was) that I wished they had not called because we had our best recruiting class coming in," Kelvin says. "We had a top-three recruiting class in the nation and there was a part of you that wants to go back to the Final Four. And from afar, I had heard about Indiana's problems.

"My first question is do you want to start over and kind of rebuild or do you want to stay here because you will be really good this year? Part of my brain was saying, 'Don't quit. You have this thing going.' But Indiana is just a special name in basketball. My gut said go to Indiana; my heart said stay at Oklahoma," Kelvin adds.

Kelvin needed insight in making his decision. He called upon someone who had been with him since kindergarten and had seen first-hand what struggles and accomplishments he had gone through — his wife.

However, Karen Sampson knows her basketball and knew what kind of opportunity her husband was presented.

"If you are a college basketball fan, then you are well aware of the history of Indiana University basketball," Karen says. "I thought it was an unbelievable opportunity and a great compliment to Kelvin that Indiana University would be interested in him coaching their basketball team."

The ultimate decision came down to one simple plane ride from Norman, Okla., to Bloomington, Ind.

"I told my wife that if I get on that plane, I will probably take the job," Kelvin says. "So the key is, do we want to go take the tour?"

Kelvin and Karen got on the plane, took the tour and pulled the trigger on the job. Kelvin Sampson was the newest member of the Indiana Hoosiers' basketball family. Despite becoming a Hoosier, Kelvin still has very fond memories of his 12-year home in Oklahoma.

"I was there for 12 years. It was my home," Kelvin says. "I knew where to drop my clothes off at the cleaners; I knew where to go for midnight cereal runs. I even knew what aisle the cereal was in. I loved Oklahoma and loved everything about it. Oklahoma was security.

"But I thought of one of my favorite quotes from General Douglas McArthur from World War II, right before they were getting ready to run and take the beach. He told his troops, 'Life isn't about security, it is about opportunity.' I saw Indiana as a great opportunity and I took it."

As with any announcement around the country, Kelvin's hiring was not met without criticism. Many thought Greenspan had not taken the necessary time needed to choose a coach. Plus, many fans had heard the "big-time" names like Mark Few, John Calipari and Tom Crean floating around.

In a poll conducted by Inside Indiana, just 48 percent of the 2,900 that voted loved the hire. Another 10 percent said they hated it, while 40 percent wanted to wait and see.

The numbers across America did not differ by much. In a poll conducted by ESPN, 78 percent of the 83,218 people were surprised by the selection and only 56.2 percent thought the Hoosiers had made a good move.

While some experts thought the hire was going to be the end of Indiana basketball, ESPN analyst Dick Vitale saw the hire as a monumental change for the good.

"Indiana ended up making a terrific choice," Vitale wrote in his blog on March 28, 2006. "There is no doubt that Sampson brings a special winner's mentality… Rick Greenspan and his Indiana athletic department staff did a great job in bringing in a proven winner. Sampson is one of the premier coaches in America and he will spell trouble for many opponents in the Big Ten."

Contrary to popular belief, basketball is not the center of attention at the Sampson household. In fact, it is one of the things that is least talked about. Instead, Kelvin likes to focus his time at home on what he cares for the most — his family.

He lives with his wife Karen, who was also his high school sweetheart back in Pembroke. They have two children, Lauren and Kellen. Lauren is an account executive with Indiana University Sports Properties in Bloomington, while Kellen is a walk-on junior with the Oklahoma basketball team.

While he shows his hard-nosed, strict side on the court, at home he is the exact opposite in his spare time. He is a loving husband, a caring father and a friendly neighbor.

"As his players would tell you, he is down to earth," Karen says. "He is your biggest friend and your biggest advocate. If you need him, he is the one you want in your corner."

He was even a big friend to the children that lived in his neighborhood while he was the head coach at Washington State.

After coming home from long games and even longer roadtrips, Kelvin would take Lauren, Kellen and the rest of the neighborhood kids out into the street to play baseball. It was a way for Kelvin to unwind from a tough day's job and be able to spend quality time with both his kids and other children.

"As long as there wasn't snow on the house, he would always play street baseball with the neighborhood kids," Karen says. "Kids would come up to the door to ask if Kelvin was home because he was the all-time pitcher for the two teams. Occasionally, he would pile them all up in a van and take them to the neighborhood park to play so they could actually run around bases.

"It didn't matter how tired he was or how late it was, he would always put down his stuff, even before he ate supper and would play baseball with those kids. He loved it."

He has also helped this year's Hoosier team instill some of the giving philosophies that were taught to him at a younger age. On Fridays, the team goes to the Shalom Center in downtown Bloomington to feed the homeless. They also go out to the area elementary school to read to the kids every week in an effort to help keep the cycle of positivism going around Bloomington.

"I think that is part of giving back," Kelvin says. "Many of the kids that come in here have everything given to them and they are not used to giving back. It is critical that we get kids on our campus that give back because look how we are supported by our fans.

"We have great kids. It doesn't mean that I don't get upset with them occasionally and they are not perfect angels, but when you see the look on their faces when they are reading to those kids, they are getting lessons in life. When these kids leave Indiana, they will be better prepared for life after basketball because now they know how to give back, help someone and make someone's life a little better."

Kelvin's life has been far from easy. From growing up with a 20-year-old car for four kids, to taking a Montana Tech job that no one else wanted, to being criticized after being named the coach of IU, his life has felt like a winding path.

However, the path seems to be straightening up. His first Hoosier team is having one of its best runs in the program's past five years. He and his family feel at ease in their new home, and he has slowly, but surely, won the hearts of many around Indiana.

So what is next?

For Kelvin, he wants no legacy. He doesn't want to receive all of the credit. He wants to do the thing he was born to do—he wants to coach.

"I want to help make our players better and maximize their potential," Kelvin says. "I want to get the most out of my players and, mostly, earn their respect."