Teammates call him "Pop Pop."
It's partly a gentle dig at his age — he has almost a decade on many of them — but it's also a term of respect.
They know the long, jagged path Cameron Knox traversed to become the star player on Bowie State's men's basketball team. They know the odds he beat to become a man on the verge of graduating from college.
Over the next month, as college basketball takes center stage in American sports, you'll be hard pressed to find a more improbable success story than this 27-year-old from East Baltimore. Bowie State is a Division II program, so you won't hear Knox's name celebrated with the likes of Duke's Jahlil Okafor or Kentucky's latest armada of NBA trainees.
Knox was never anyone's All-American. In fact, he was a petty criminal with no obvious prospects, another anonymous Baltimore tale unlikely to end well. You could say fate interceded, between the birth of his daughter and that pick-up game where the right coach happened to be watching. But he was more than lucky. Given a chance, Knox sank his teeth into it and became, in the words of coaches and teammates, a man of rare purpose.
Now, he's the one who nags younger players to get to study hall on time. He's the one who'll start yapping to energize a listless teammate during practice. He's the one who finds all the on-court nooks and crannies that go unexploited by taller, swifter players.
He's "Pop Pop" — a source of wisdom.
"He's like that father figure in a way," said freshman guard Ahmaad Wilson (Randallstown), one of several players Knox has mentored. "You can talk to him about anything."
Bowie State coach Darrell Brooks has worked at seven schools over a 30-year career. Asked if he's ever encountered a story quite like Knox's, he paused for several moments.
"I haven't," he said finally. "I really haven't."
'I was doing bad stuff'
Knox's grew up in Northeast Baltimore, where he dreamed of playing college ball but never found the structure, at home or at school, to put substance to his hopes.
"Sometimes, that dream just isn't reality," he said.
He said his father struggled to support nine children (Knox has five sisters and three brothers). So he ended up living with his grandmother, Ledarthy Knox, whom he credits with giving him a safe home, no matter how far he strayed from the righteous path.
Knox played at W.E.B. DuBois in the mid-2000s, when future pro Jahmar Young was the star attraction. He said he tried to buckle down academically as a senior, but he didn't have time to make up for years of poor study habits.
After graduation, he simply drifted.
He recalled his outlook: "Basketball was always in my mind, but my life was just survive today, survive today."
Knox said he sold drugs and robbed several homes. He never considered himself a hardened criminal. "But I was doing bad stuff," he said. "I just never got caught."
He noted that his three best friends from that period are all in prison.
He knew he wasn't headed anywhere good. "This is not what you want," he often heard from his uncle, Larry Thompson, who had traveled similar roads.
'I had something to work for'
The first step to a better life came five years ago with the birth of his daughter, Camryn. As he cradled her in the delivery room and gazed into her eyes, "that was what I needed to see," he recalled. "I had something to work for."
Another moment of providence followed when Byron Westmorland, who had grown up competing with Knox's younger brother, asked if he wanted to play in a pick-up game at Bowie State. Westmorland was the Bulldogs' top scorer at the time.
It was a casual affair, and Knox had no reason to think anyone important was watching. But he locked onto Bowie State's best guard, Darren Clark, and pressed him up and down the court.
"It was just pickup. Nobody does that," said Brooks, who happened to be observing. "Finally, Darren just started having somebody else bring the ball up. And this was an all-league guard we're talking about."
Afterward, Brooks asked this defensive buzzsaw where he played. Nowhere, Knox replied. "You interested?" the coach asked.
He was, of course. But it wasn't as if the sky opened at that moment. Brooks didn't offer Knox a scholarship. He had to gain admission and earn eligibility all on his own, no easy feats for someone who hadn't cracked a school book in nearly five years.
For three semesters, Knox struggled to lift his GPA above 2.0. He missed seeing Camryn every day, and his temper flared enough that Brooks regularly booted him from practice.
His faith wavered at times, and he credits Brooks with sticking by him "even if I was never going to play a minute."
When he finally earned eligibility as a 25-year-old sophomore, he barely played. Even last season, when he became a key contributor, he didn't start a game.
Hardly the resume of a 2015 conference Player of the Year, which is what Knox was named Friday.
'What can happen if you don't give up'
Standing 5 feet 10 and carrying 170 pounds on a slight frame, he's no one's image of a basketball star. He's never dunked in a game at Bowie State. So he must compensate with speed, right? Not really.
"Is Cam fast?" Brooks called to an assistant in the next room.
"He got a little burst now and again," came the response as both men laughed.
In true grandpa fashion, Knox scores with arrhythmic dribble moves and shots released from unexpected angles. He's averaging 17.7 points per game, tied for first in the Central Intercollegiate Athletic Association. Butler compared his crafty style to that of another East Baltimore product, former NBA star Sam Cassell.
But Knox's game is not the first thing teammates praise when asked about "Pop Pop."
Wilson, the freshman guard, recalled how Knox promised to take care of him after they went head to head during summer workouts in Bowie State's gym. In the months that followed, the senior would take time out of a hectic schedule to coach his young protege through solo workouts.
Wilson, meanwhile, researched Knox's background and developed a deeper appreciation for the teammate showing him the ropes. "I've got people in my life I might send that story to," he said. "Just so they see what can happen if you don't give up."
Other players sound as if they're describing a coach rather than a teammate.
"If you're late for anything, He'll call you or come find you," said Dayshawn Wells (St. Frances), another freshman mentee. "When we're on the floor, I think everyone knows the way he expects us to play."
If teammates don't meet his standards, Knox won't hesitate to point them to the right places or bark at them to pick up the pace.
'He has the locker room'
His presence makes coaching this year's team rather easy, Brooks said, despite the overall youth of Bowie State's roster. When your leading scorer is also your toughest, wisest and hardest working player, life is good.
"He has the locker room," Brooks said. "I don't have to worry about it. A lot of things probably don't even come back to me, because he handles it."
The Bulldogs are 21-7 headed into the conference tournament, where they'll begin play Thursday in Charlotte, N.C. Win or lose, they're a solid bet to make the Division II national tournament.
Basketball glory aside, Brooks said the real crescendo to Knox's story will come in December, when he's scheduled to graduate with a degree in communications.
"I've been to every graduation since I've been here, and I've been so proud and happy every year when one of my guys has graduated," he said. "But I'll cry like a baby at his. I already know it."
When Knox is back home, walking along Venable Street or Old York Road, he sees older men he knew in his outlaw days and younger ones following in his old footsteps. The message is always the same: "Cam, Cam, make sure you stay in school."
They remind him how rare a narrative he's trying to complete. In fact, he's thinking about becoming a coach, partly because his experiences could carry powerful meaning for young players. Already, Brooks plans to put Knox on staff at Bowie State next season, while he's finishing his degree.
"I really love it," Knox said. "When I'm out there, just leading those guys, I feel like I'm their age again."