A SERGE of Power, Beauty, and Grace

Jordan. Worthy. Perkins. Vince. Twan. Stack. Cunningham. Daugherty.  The rich tradition at Chapel Hill evokes feelings of class and grace, of a soft sea of Carolina Blue, of immense success and multiple national championships. UNC is college basketball.

Perhaps this is the view of North Carolina to the casual basketball fan.  To LittyHoops, UNC is synonymous with one man.  Yes, that man is larger than life; he stands over 86 inches tall and hails from Ulaardingen.

The man, of course, is Serge Zwikker.  He was different, and therefore special.  A stupid name, a stupid grin, and a stupid demeanor set him apart from mere mortals.  The ferociously timid center played for the Heels from 1993-1997 and was part of the '93 Championship team.  According to one scout, Zwikk the Quick's greatest strength was understanding his own limitations. 

The Flying Dutchman was by far the slowest player in college basketball. He had hands made of stone.  He couldn't out rebound a midget or a dwarf, and he blocked shots once in a solar eclipse. Calling him a  project was an understatement.  He could have kept a third world nation busy on a rainy day.

Don't misunderstand. We are not bashing Zwikker. In fact he did average over 7 points, 5 boards and a block a game on championship caliber teams.  He backed up Montross and kept Salvidori on the bench.

But the reason we have such an affinity for Serge is because we remember Serge.  His name rolled off your tongue so easily, you might think he was the next Bad Boy Artist.  He was white, foreign and huge in a time where Europeans still played ball in Europe.  Carolina fans loved him and everybody else loved to bash him.  Can't you just hear Vitale praise Serge after he luckily stumbles upon a rebound.  Can't you hear the drunk guy at the sports bar arguing to anyone (in reality, that would be no one) that would listen how Zwikker was soft, and had no hands.

Maybe Zwikker is the Jackie Robinson of basketball.  A pioneer who took slack, and led the way for others even though he was as out of place as Senator Leiberman at a Public Enemy concert.  He paved the road for the migration of International players that have invaded American basketball.

Last year, I was at the first round of the NCAA tournament in Chicago hanging out between games with my boy Wally.  Two guys who could have easily been extra's on "Friends" were having a corny conversation about this and that.  All of a sudden one guy goes to the other "Hey, What the hell ever happened to Serge Zwikker?".  My friend Wally loves that line, and after some insightful research on the trusty ole' web, I found the answer to Zwikker's whereabouts.

Where have you gone Serge Zwikker?
A LittyHoops Nation turns its lonely eyes to you.