Former Indiana basketball standout Ted Kitchel has Parkinson's: 'It just kind of stuns everybody that you tell'

GREENWOOD, Ind. – Out on the golf course, Ted Kitchel had no idea his hand was shaking before he took a swing. But they noticed. The golf pros and friends saw the tremor as he stood above the tee ready to smash the ball.

Kitchel had no idea why he felt so tired, why he was going to bed at 5 p.m., coming home and lying down on the couch. But the doctors did. A trip to the ER revealed blood clots in his lungs and legs.

Blood thinners were prescribed and the shaking worsened. Kitchel had no idea why. Maybe it was the blood thinners causing the incontrollable tiniest of movements.

His neighbor and doctor didn't think so. Those were tremors Kitchel was having. The doctor put him on medicine to try to calm them down.

"You know, you're cruising along in life and you don't think about anything being wrong," Kitchel, 61, said from his Carmel, Indiana, home last week.

But the medicine to stop the tremors didn't work.

"That's when I really noticed it," Kitchel said. "I told my doctor I don't think that medicine is doing any good. I still shake in my right arm."

In 2015, Kitchel took a trip to Boston to see a neurologist. She had him walk up and down a hall, do different movements, then she brought her colleague in to watch Kitchel do the same.

"And after looking at me for about 15 minutes, she says, 'You've got Parkinson's," Kitchel said. "I mean basically it hit me...like boom, like what?"

He flew home that night and walked into the bedroom where his wife, Kristi, was watching TV.

"And she says, 'Well, how'd it go?'" Kitchel said. "I said, 'I've got Parkinson's.'"

"It just kind of stuns everybody that you tell."

'You learn to live with it'

Sitting in his Carmel home on Thursday, talking about his days of playing basketball, a standout at Lewis Cass high, recruited by Bob Knight, winning an NCAA championship in 1981, it's impossible to tell Kitchel is six years past his diagnosis.

Parkinson's disease, in its simplest explanation, is a disorder of the central nervous system that affects movement. Nerve cell damage in the brain causes dopamine levels to drop, leading to the symptoms of Parkinson's. Kitchel is on medicine to boost the dopamine in his body.

Like Kitchel's initial symptoms, Parkinson's often starts with a tremor in one hand. Other symptoms are slow movement, stiffness and loss of balance.

As the specialist in Boston started to explain the disease to Kitchel that day in 2015, his mind went to neuromuscular diseases like ALS and multiple sclerosis.

"It's not a big deal. There are millions of people that have Parkinson's," Kitchel recalls the neurologist telling him. "You don't die because of Parkinson's. You die with Parkinson's. You learn to live with it. She's like, 'It's not a big deal.'"

"And it really isn't that big of a deal," Kitchel said. "You learn to live with it."

Kitchel concedes he has been fortunate. People progress differently with the disease.

"Some people have it and it's fast moving," he said. "Some people have it and their bodies fight it off a little more and it's slower moving. Mine seems to be a little slower moving."

Kitchel is grateful for that. And he wants to help others fighting the disease. So, he took his love of golf (he has three holes in one) and turned it into a way to raise awareness and money for research. His first Ted Kitchel Golf Outing for Parkinson's in 2019 raised $45,000.

The IU brotherhood of former players was there. Those players have been big supporters of Kitchel and his cause.

Because long before there was golf, there was basketball.

Coach Knight wants to stop by

He was a farm kid born in Galveston who grew up on big John Deere tractors and combines. His mom and dad farmed 1,500 acres, mostly corn and beans – plus 60 acres of tomatoes.

At Lewis Cass High, Kitchel was a star athlete. He played football, pitched for the baseball team and was a basketball star.

By the second game of Kitchel's senior season, a red-sweatered coach from Bloomington, Indiana, had heard about this 6-8 farm kid who could play ball. Knight came to the game against Peru, which had beaten Lewis Cass twice the year before.

"I don't know why, but he kind of showed up that night," Kitchel said.

Kitchel scored 40-some points.

Knight stood up in the corner, a few people saw him, but he didn't talk to anyone. "They had said coach Knight was there," Kitchel said. "I didn't think much about it."

Kitchel had been getting letters from interested colleges since he was a sophomore. By the time Knight came around, there were more than 200.

A couple of weeks after the Peru game, Kitchel was sitting in algebra class when his high school basketball coach knocked on the door.

"And he says, 'Hey, Bob Knight, he's on the phone and he wants to know if it'd be OK if he stopped by tonight," Kitchel said.

Well, of course, Kitchel said, that would be just fine.

'They're all scared to talk'

Knight was a huge deal. This was 1978 and the coach had just led his 1976 team to an undefeated season that ended in an NCAA title. The year before that, the team had gone undefeated before being beaten by Kentucky in the third round of the tournament.

Other coaches had come to visit the Kitchels' home. But this was different.

Kitchel's dad was a big strong farm guy. When other coaches came to visit, selling their school, his dad and mom and the high school coach would ask all sorts of questions.

"Knight comes, sits there and talks and nobody asks any questions," he said. "They're all scared, scared to say anything, scared to talk."

Before Knight came, Kitchel's dad had even considered shaving off his mustache. He knew Knight didn't approve of facial hair on his team.

Knight showed up about 8 p.m., after his IU practice, sat down, told stories, talked about the program and made his pitch to the Kitchels.

"Basically, it was just 'I'll make you the best player you can possibly be. That doesn't mean you'll ever play a lot. That doesn't mean you'll ever be a star,'" Knight told the family. "But the things I can promise you is I'll make you the best player you can possibly be and you'll get a college education.'"

Knight came to a couple more of Kitchel's high school games and, during the blizzard of 1978, Kitchel made his decision. He called Knight, stuck in Michigan with his IU basketball team, and told him he wanted to be a Hoosier.

"He didn't sell you anything that he didn't tell you from the start," Kitchel said. "It was not going to be easy."

'It was deep stuff'

Playing for Knight, there was pressure every day.

"He is not just like that on game day. He's like that every day," Kitchel said. "He is pushing and kicking and shoving and scratching and trying to make you the absolute best."

And the work didn't stop off the court. The first day Kitchel arrived at IU, he was given a notebook.

"And if he was talking, you better be writing," he said. Knight told the team how to stop each and every player on opposing teams. This guy likes to take two dribbles then cross over. Don't let him do it. That guy, the post man, likes to catch the ball and turn to his right shoulder. Make him turn left.

"We knew every out of bounds play they ran, everything," he said. "It was deep stuff."

And it worked.

During Kitchel's time at IU, the team won three Big Ten tournaments, an NIT tournament and the 1981 championship – when Kitchel, along with starters Landon Turner, Isiah Thomas, Ray Tolbert and Randy Wittman, beat Dean Smith's North Carolina 63-50.

While at IU, Kitchel met Kristi. She had gone to Perry Meridian, where she was a diver and state champion on the balance beam. She started college at UNLV on a diving scholarship but then came to IU to dive. Back issues forced her to give up the sport so she became a cheerleader.

The two have three children, Scott, Tyler and MacKenzie, and two grandchildren with one on the way. It is Kitchel's family who has been his strongest support as he battles Parkinson's.

'Parkinson's is not a death sentence'

When he first told his children his diagnosis, they started doing their own research, things dad should do.

No. 1 was to stay active. Kitchel sees a movement specialist, plays a lot of golf and several times a week does Rock Steady Boxing.

"I want to encourage people with Parkinson's to get out and get active, not just sit around doing nothing," he said. "They kind of give up. People want to give up. But they feel better when they get out and start doing things."

It has worked well for Kitchel.

"When I sit here you probably don't even notice I have it," he said. If he's watching the Stanley Cup or an intense game or a golf match, his hand will start shaking.

He remembers the feeling when he was first diagnosed. He didn't know what Parkinson's would mean for him and it was scary. Now, he wants to help others facing that same uncertain prognosis.

His family first suggested Kitchel do something to raise awareness for Parkinson's. Golf was perfect. This year will be Kitchel's second golf outing; 2020 was canceled due to the pandemic.

"Yeah the golf outing is great," Kitchel said. "But mostly, I just want to encourage people to stay active. I just want people to know that Parkinson's is not a death sentence."

Golf outing to raise Parkinson's awareness

Kitchel's golf outing will take place Aug. 23 at Valle Vista Golf Club in Greenwood. There are no open spots with 37 teams already signed up. People can still help by visiting Kitchel's research fund and golf outing page.

Follow IndyStar sports reporter Dana Benbow on Twitter: @DanaBenbow. Reach her via email: dbenbow@indystar.com.

This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: IU's Ted Kitchel has Parkinson's; the 1981 NCAA champion is fighting