Westwood ho!

Sporting News, The, April 10, 1995 by Dave Kindred

George Zidek remembers where he came from. He came from terror. He came from the angry streets of Czechoslovakia. Just a kid, a very tall kid, he walked those streets with Czechs who would suffocate communism. Anti-communist demonstrations," Zidek calls those walks. "We demonstrate, and we see guns aimed at us. It is very dangerous for your future to be anti-communist in Prague those days."

George Zidek is 7 feet tall.

He could play some basketball.

The game was his way off those dangerous streets. Because American universities now scout Eastern Europe with a certain thoroughness, no 7-foot basketball player goes unnoticed. When it was UCLA's turn to invite Zidek from Prague to America, he had never heard of Westwood.

But if George Zidek is anything, he is a quick study. He saw the trophies. He saw the banners. He heard of the great man named Wooden. "In only 48 hours," he would say, "I knew about UCLA. It was for me."

Four years later, improbable as life can get, the big guy from Prague is now a big guy in America. His defensive work in the NCAA championship game caused the disappearance of Arkansas All-American center Corliss Williamson. After Williamson made his first two shots, he didn't make another field goal for 33 minutes and 45 seconds. It came with 2:25 remaining and Arkansas down, 77-66.

Zidek's strategy: Be a mountain.

"I am 7 feet, maybe 7 feet 1," he says. "My strength is to make them try to shoot over my hands. Not many can do it. After he made those first two, he went 1 for 14, eh? It was very encouraging to me."

Williamson, only a junior but a likely NBA lottery pick this spring, admitted to a killing miscalculation in his critical contest with Zidek.

"I got too caught up into the physical play, trying to go inside," Williamson says. "He was bumping, and I wanted to go in, I guess, bump back and shoot over him. ... I could have taken a couple turnaround jump shots, but I played to power play instead of all-around. play."

Besides which, Zidek outscored Williamson, 14-12, and outrebounded him, 6-4. Not bad for a fellow who has been described, accurately if a touch unkindly, as "the slowest player, the worst leaper and the least-gifted athlete" in UCLA's seven-man rotation.

Zidek brings more to the table than the wings of an Ed O'Bannon or Toby Bailey, the UCLA heroes who played above the rim when it meant the most. Zidek, who barely spoke English upon matriculation, carries a 3.9 grade-point average, majoring in economics. Just last week he was named to an academic All-American team.

"I haven't had anybody smarter than George Zidek, no sir," UCLA Coach Jim Harrick says. "When other guys can't remember the plays we're running today, George comes up to me and says, `Remember what we ran for Petruska four years ago? You gonna run that for me?' He never forgets anything. He knows everything we're doing to the nth degree."

Says assistant Mark Gottfried: "George has literally made himself into a player."

Under communist rule in his homeland, Zidek saw only darkness ahead. He put himself in front of guns because he believed communism would destroy his country. This was seven years ago, eight maybe. It was a time when rot reached the foundation of communism. Collapse was inevitable.

Zidek says: "I came here to the United States and saw a great opportunity, coming out of a former communist country to get a great education. I take it seriously. This is a lifetime chance."

There were 16 minutes to play when George Zidek, playing the game of his lifetime, saw the magnificent Ed O'Bannon do a wonder. Here's what O'Bannon did: Above the rim, he took a rebound and missed the put-back; he also rebounded that one, and this time, though hammered by an Arkansas defender, O'Bannon worked the shot into the net.

Because O'Bannon loved the moment so did Zidek. Because O'Bannon hopped for joy into the arms of three teammates, here came the 7-footer from Prague doing an awkward little hop of his own, landing in the middle of the bunch. When you've run from guns, it's nice to run to joy.

Arkansas led, 16-10, when George Zidek did his own wonder. The big man had the ball at the right side of the lane. Instead of moving toward the basket, he took a quick step toward the baseline and arched in a graceful righthanded hook shot from nine feet.

Thank you, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

"When I came here," Zidek says, "I saw Kareem use it when nobody else was shooting it. I realized the hook shot could probably be something that might help me overcome my ability." Which is another, better way of saying the big man knew he needed help and worked on, in Gottfried's words, with a perfectionist's zeal: "He's put in countless hours, working on the hook until he feels comfortable. After all that time, he's become a force. When he scores in the middle and teams are forced to decide if they want to double him, we become a real good basketball team."

Only a great basketball team would have beaten Arkansas on a night when the defending national champions had history's certification awaiting. Only Duke in 1991 and '92 has won successive championships in the two decades since UCLA quit running the table in '75.