THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, June 7, 1995 TAG: 9506070612
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BOB MOLINARO
LENGTH: Medium: 71 lines
Never has it been more obvious why Hakeem Olajuwon is just beginning to receive the sort of attention he deserves.
It's his attitude.
Olajuwon has the wrong attitude for late 20th century America.
Throughout an NBA playoffs dominated by his talent, grace and professionalism, Olajuwon has not once bothered to taunt the crowd, dye his hair or refer to himself in the third person.
Is it any wonder his number is so rarely called when advertisers want to make a commercial?
Closer study of the Nigerian during the playoffs reveals the survival in Olajuwon of a quaint trait called dignity.
This dignity reveals itself in many forms, most of them unfamiliar to any American sports fan under the age of 50.
When approached by the media in recent days, Olajuwon explained his attitude this way: ``Play hard, be humble.''
Play hard, be humble. Can somebody interpret that for America? Though he has lived in Houston for several years, Olajuwon obviously is still a foreigner to the ways of superstar behavior.
American sports fans have been raised on bombast, after all. Conceited athletes have paraded before us for decades, primarily because egotists are drawn to the TV camera and vice versa.
Arrogance not only is an accepted pattern of social conduct among athletes, it is an advertising tool.
``I am the greatest,'' said Muhammad Ali.
He might have been, too. So many athletes who have come after him aren't, but think they are.
``I am the straw that stirs the drink,'' said Reggie Jackson, a home run hitter whose real genius was self-promotion.
Athletes are the icons of our times. Their message is clear: ``Look at me.''
When Rickey Henderson broke Lou Brock's stolen-base record, he was given a car - a Mercedes.
``I was hoping,'' said a gracious Henderson, ``to get a Porsche.''
Few of our most overexposed athletes - seemingly almost none of our best, young basketball players - can avoid a public display of vanity. Even Michael Jordan, in his first go-round with the Chicago Bulls, referred to his teammates as ``my supporting cast.''
If anyone has the right to that attitude, it is Olajuwon. He has placed the Rockets atop his shoulders and carried them through three rugged playoff series to the championship round against Shaquille O'Neal'sOrlando Magic.
When the postseason began, the Rockets were the sixth-best team in the West - only the second-best team in Texas - and Olajuwon was voted the third-best center among MVP candidates.
Olajuwon was forced to score 40 points almost every game against San Antonio to receive the sort of exposure that automatically goes to Indiana's erratic Reggie Miller for playing Cheech to Spike Lee's Chong.
After befuddling MVP David Robinson and leading an ordinary team to the finals, Olajuwon finally is being recognized for the kind of player he is. He has been every bit as dominating as Jordan in his prime. He plays the center position like no one else.
Another player in his situation might cop an attitude. He might wonder aloud why it took so long for so many to appreciate his special skills. But Hakeem just laughs. He has accepted his success with such gracious goodwill that, belatedly, affection flows his way.
``Play hard, be humble,'' he says.
Olajuwon couldn't be more out of step.
Or farther ahead of the pack. by CNB