For more than a decade now, Hakeem has been-first unofficially, then officially-the international ambassador of the very international-minded NBA. Yet in America, Olajuwon has been one of the least visible of the league’s top stars. Certainly he was the only perennial all-star without a major shoe deal. In a league of sky-walkers and trash-talkers, quiet, devout Muslims who speak accented English tend to be peripheral. But over the past two seasons, while Michael Jordan was first chasing fungoes, then his own star, Hakeem has established himself as the game’s player; he won a league MVP, two playoff MVPs and, most important, back-to-back titles. “I don’t see how you can expect any more of him,” says Rockets coach Rudy Tomjanovich, “but he just amazes us every year.”
When the NBA season opens Friday, Olajuwon will take aim at a championship “three-peat,” which only Jordan’s Chicago Bulls have achieved in the past 25 years. And when the season concludes, Olajuwon, who became a U.S. citizen last year, will don the stars and stripes of Dream Team III for the Atlanta Olympics. Because previous Dream Teams–I at the Barcelona Games, II at the world championships in Toronto– have been notable for lopsided victories and Ugly Americanisms, Hakeem has more than a gold-medal quest in mind. “It’s a chance to demonstrate not just our talent, but our character, to the world,” he says.
Hakeem, whose own character is regarded as exemplary, would be the first to admit that that hasn’t always been the case. On his London visit, after an Australian player mentioned that Olajuwon had punched him during a college game, Hakeem conceded the point quickly. “Yes, I recognize the face.I punched him,“he said. “I punched a lot of people in those days.” In his early NBA years,, he was not only hot-tempered but caught a bad case of surliness from Ralph Sampson. who back then was the other of Houston’s Twin Towers. He whined about sundry grievances and feud-ed with ownership about money.
But five seasons ago–“with maturity,” he explains–Olajuwon, who was born a Muslim, embraced his faith. Now, at the age of 32, he prays daily, doesn’t eat pork and travels to Mecca after each season to offer thanks for all his good fortune. He’s never been heard to complain about money, even though his six-year, $25.4 million contract now lags behind many younger and lesser superstars. For Olajuwon, who is unmarried but has a 7-year-old daughter by a former girlfriend, being a role model is no marketing ploy; rather it is his Muslim duty. “It is a responsibility to set an example,” he says. “You don’t do it for others, but for yourself.”
Since the ABCs of pro stardom have long been arrogance, boorishness and childishness, fans can be forgiven any cynicism about today’s athletes. Could Hakeem just be capitalizing on the trend–signaled last season when class act Grant Hill led the all-star vote–that good guys may finally be in vogue? Truth is, it’s hard to find any-one-from rival players to his former agents to journalists-who will say any-thing bad about Olajuwon, on or off the record. Before he took on Olajuwon in last season’s NBA finals, Shaquille O’Neal refused to initiate any verbal skirmishes, saying, “I respect Hakeem too much.”
Nothing tests his newfound tolerance, he likes to joke, more than the press. “When you ask your questions–and it’s the sixth time the same question-I still try to accommodate you,” Hakeem says. In return he hopes to use the media to educate, correcting Western misconceptions about his religion like those spawned by Louis Farrakhan’s Million Man March. “This is not Islam.” says Hakeem. “Islam is for all people. In Mecca 3 million people come–men, women, all races from all countries.”
Hakeem’s maturing on the court was, however, expected. He didn’t start playing basketball in his native Lagos until he was 15 and devoted as much time to soccer and team handball. But his size quickly earned the teenager a spot on Nigeria’s national basketball team. A U.S. State Department official arranged for Olajuwon to tour some American colleges, and the University of Houston was the one where it was warm. In 1984 the star of the school’s famed Phi Slamma Jamma crew was the first choice in the NBA draft–two spots ahead of Jordan. Noted in college for his defensive prowess, Olajuwon has worked relentlessly on his offense. One summer he took 500 15-foot jumpers every day. This past summer Hakeem spent five weeks in Vancouver, joining NHL hockey players in “quick feet” drills aimed at speeding his directional shifts. “He thought if he improved the way he moves his body,” said Peter Twist, the Vancouver Canucks’ conditioning coach, “he could take his game to the next level.”
Each year Olajuwon adds a new facet to his game, says Clyde Drexler, a college teammate who rejoined him last year in Houston. He adds, “I’m sworn not to reveal this year’s.” But Hakeem may have given his secret away by dribbling on an expensive hotel carpet during much of an interview. Big men who dream of being point guards are hardly a new phenomenon. But Hakeem says better ball-control skills will expand his offensive options. “It gives me more freedom to do what I want,” he says.
About the only NBA realm Olajuwon doesn’t yet dominate is marketing, though opportunities are finally coming his way. The deals aren’t as lucrative as Jordan’s or O’Neal’s, and the companies–Spalding, Uncle Ben’s, Rochester Big & Tall–may lack cachet. But Hakeem seems delighted that his new “Dream” shoe will be sold by discount retailers for less than $45–and is being tagged the “socially responsible” sneaker. These days for Olajuwon, everything seems a perfect fit.
