Two Chinese Athletes Find Way East to USC : Diver, Volleyball Player Take Own Roads

It’s not exactly Chinatown-by-the-Coliseum, not yet, but USC is fast becoming college sports’ Far East of the West. So far, it enjoys the athletic talents of Chao Ying Zhang and Li Hong Ping. Just two athletes, to be sure, but they are China’s entire representation in U.S. collegiate sports.

Chao, a one-time member of China’s junior national volleyball team, and Li, who was one of China’s big hopes in Olympic diving--he finished fourth in the springboard competition--are not a package deal and do not represent any kind of cultural exchange program between China and the United State. In fact, they came independently and not exactly with the wholehearted approval of their country.

They were, basically, curious and determined to see some sights and learn something new. So these young men reversed the old dictum. They went east.

Chao, 24, with the help of an uncle in Houston, arrived in the United States in 1981 and eventually landed at USC in the spring of 1982, where he has since become, believe it or not, Peking’s first All-American. He says he had a tough time explaining that to his mother.

Li, 22, with virtually no help at all, came to USC last year. Unlike Chao, who spent a year of transition with his uncle in Houston before entering the American mainstream, Li has been abruptly plunged into this foreign culture. Being a college freshman is probably tough enough as it is, but having to contend with this strange language (“What is past tense? In China, no past tense.”) and new customs (“Two girlfriends! Is not possible.”), well, there is something to write home about.

USC’s China syndrome, it should be mentioned, is purely providential. Nobody decided that it was simply time to begin recruiting in China. Certainly volleyball Coach Bob Yoder had no intention of going after Chao. He had no idea who Chao was, in fact.

“It was kind of a fluke, really,” Yoder said. Chao’s uncle, Jeffry Chang, had been looking for a school that offered both volleyball and biomechanical engineering. USC seemed to fit the bill. So Chang sent his nephew west for a meeting with Yoder.

“Now you can’t give him a tryout, because that’s against the rules,” Yoder said. “He did have these credentials, but they were real hard to verify. What did it, he showed me this picture of him in uniform. So I kind of took a gamble. Anyway, there wasn’t that much available to recruit.”

Chao, originally a setter, has since developed into a blocker and has more than earned his scholarship. Though he is just 6 feet 3 inches, his vertical leap allows him to match up with larger opponents quite well. Last season, he made third-team All-American and made the NCAA all-tournament team, too. Predictably, he has become known as USC’s Great Wall of China.

If there was any recruitment at all done, it was by Chao’s uncle, a professor at the University of Houston’s Medical School. Jeffry and Chao met in 1980 when Jeffry was in China on a lecture tour. Jeffry quickly became disenchanted with China’s educational system and wanted to bring Chao to the United States to study. Volleyball seemed just the ticket.

Before that it had never occurred to Chao that he would leave. Now, he can’t imagine having stayed. “Here I can play volleyball and study at the same time,” he said. “Not in China. In China, they treat us most of the time as a volleyball player first, student second.”

The sports federation there was not real thrilled to see Chao go. Lots of Chinese students are allowed to leave on student visas, but athletes are another thing. “They wanted me to stay,” he said. “But they know it’s a good chance for me. They knew how curious I was.”

That Chao was allowed to go seems strange to Yoder. But, Yoder diplomatically said: “While Chao is a very good player, he may not have been in their plans.”

As for Chao’s plans, they are vague. Next is graduate school and, he figures, another five or six years before his education is complete. Then, who knows. Certainly he likes it here.

“I’m on my own here,” he said. “In China, my family takes care of me and I don’t have to worry about anything. Here, though, I can do what I want to do. I have a chance here.”

The Americanization of Chao appears rather complete. It is therefore interesting to visit with little Li Hong Ping to see what Chao must have once faced, a stranger in a real strange land.

Li determined to come here after seeing USC during the 1984 Olympic Games. He had already done some traveling in America as part of China’s national team, and he liked everything he saw.

“So I talk with my coach,” he said. “I say, ‘I need to go to American school.’ ” That wasn’t the best news the Chinese diving federation, and government, had heard. “A little bit upset, but I really want to come.”

So they let him, apparently viewing it as a temporary development. When 1988 rolls around, Li will be foremost a Chinese citizen, which is considered a more compelling affiliation than being a Trojan diver.

The negotiations to bring him here--and USC diving Coach Rick Early was decidedly enthusiastic about his coming--were long and hard. Li had his coach write the letters, although Early has a fair amount of correspondence in Chinese. But finally his recruitment was complete.

As Li struggles with the language to explain how he became a diver, you get a feel for what he must overcome. Giggling over his limited vocabulary, he frequently consults a small pocket English-Chinese dictionary, sometimes with comic results.

He says he only wanted to be a gymnast--and had lived apart from his family since the age of 12 to study gymnastics--but the diving coach from the province decided to pluck him from that program and make a diver of him. This was when he was 15. It was nearly a disaster.

“I don’t like diving at first,” he said. “I am afraid. Diving very scary, a real problem for me.” The coaches sensed as much. “They don’t like me, send me back to gymnastics. Don’t like me any more.”

Li explains the problem. “I was born in the year of the, uh,”--he makes two ears above his head with his fingers--”rabbit. That means I am timid. I have something small inside me.” He checks his dictionary and finds what he wants. “Ah,” he says happily. “I have small guts.”

The scenario was repeated a year later and coaches still found him too scared. “A little bit better,” he said. “But not a lot better.” Still, he and his coaches persisted. He began winning diving titles and his fear became easier for his coaches to live with. “But if I had been born in the year of the tiger. . . . “

Well, he surely was brave enough just to come here with little else than a letter of introduction. Everything is so different.

“Customs very different,” he said. “My friends have a lot of girlfriends, parties all the time. They say, why not a girlfriend. I have one at home. But why not another? I can’t explain to them.”

Never the twain shall meet, right? Except on a volleyball court or in a swimming pool. Which could be a start, of course.