Swimmer Krayzelburg Proves He Is Well-Suited to Ways of West

Final answer . . . who exactly is Lenny from Odessa?

A) The cowboy champion from Texas.

B) The bowling champion from Texas.

C) The champion backstroker who will be swimming in Texas this week.

Attention, trivia buffs, future millionaire contestants and Sydney Olympic students: If you can only remember the names of two male swimmers, make them Lenny Krayzelburg of Los Angeles and Ian Thorpe.

Thorpe, the Australian teenager, is easy. He wears size-17 shoes.

Krayzelburg’s otherworldly feats are limited to the pool.

In August, Krayzelburg became the first male swimmer to break the world record in all three backstroke events--the 50 meters (24.99 seconds), a time trial and not an Olympic event, the 100 (53.60) and 200 (1:55.87). That virtuoso performance--along with a gold medal in the 400 medley relay--came at the Pan Pacific Championships in Sydney, in the same pool the Olympics will use next year.

Now comes the last chance to watch Krayzelburg--at least in the United States--in a major meet before the Olympic trials in August. He will be at the U.S. Open in San Antonio today through Saturday. Thorpe and his feet are staying home.

Krayzelburg, 24, has dominated the backstroke events since 1997 and makes news when he loses because it occurs so infrequently. Last month, Krayzelburg suffered a rare loss in the 50 meters--in a short-course event in College Park, Md.--and was so put out, he promptly took out the short-course world record in the 200.

Still, as good as Krayzelburg is in the water, his story out of the water is even better.

The transformation of Lenny from Odessa, Ukraine, into U.S. citizen into world-record holder and Olympic favorite did not occur without years of life-altering turbulence.

“It’s an American story,” said his coach, Mark Schubert of USC. “It’s really what America is all about. Where people have a dream of coming here and go through great personal sacrifices to get here, to make it here. There are a lot of people who deserve a lot of credit for Lenny’s success.”

His parents, Oleg and Yelena, are front and center.

“We decided to come into the United States in 1987,” Yelena Krayzelburg said. “It took us a couple of years. The situation in Russia was not so good. We tried to do something better for our kids, to make life better.”

The Soviet Union’s war against Afghanistan was the primary factor. The Krayzelburgs realized their son--then a talented age-group swimmer--would be drafted if they stayed in Odessa.

“I was 13 and the army was mandatory and my parents--there was definitely no end to the war--we didn’t know what was going to happen,” Krayzelburg said. “Being Jewish [and facing discrimination] obviously played a big part in that. Also, having better opportunities in this country, really, to be whoever you wanted to be. To put your mind, your heart to it.”

The Krayzelburgs landed in West Hollywood. There were no jobs waiting. His parents spoke no English and while he knew some English words, Lenny could not carry on a conversation. His younger sister, who started learning English in first grade, was the best conversationalist.

“She was our translator,” Yelena said, laughing.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was bliss.

Krayzelburg sat in the bleachers near the pool at USC last week--coincidentally, the day after Thanksgiving--recalling his past and reliving the difficult moments. After months of searching, his dad secured work as a cook and his mother found employment at a hospital pharmacy. She had been an accountant in Odessa.

“Even today it would have been better for them to be there, as individuals,” Lenny said of the family’s departure from Odessa. “Overall, seeing my success in the States, they know they made the right decision. The only positive when we got here, because we were legal immigrants, we were getting financial aid.

“When we just got here, I was young, I didn’t even realize all of this stuff. When I got older, I understood what type of decision it was for them. When you’re a kid, you don’t think about life.”

But even as a youngster, Krayzelburg was realistic. The first few months in Los Angeles were draining. It took him an hour by bus to get to practice in Santa Monica, plus a 20-minute walk. He was getting home close to 10 at night and knew it was not enough.

“That’s when I lost the fun for swimming. I wasn’t enjoying it at all,” he said. “I was swimming, but I wasn’t doing anything special.”

Oleg knew his son was struggling. He kept remembering his son’s first swimming coach in Odessa, the wise man who told him to get his child off the soccer pitch and into the pool. The coach spotted greatness.

It was time for a father-son conference.

“That was one of the turning points in my life,” Krayzelburg said. “He sat me down and talked to me. My mom was telling me that dad is going through so much. He was really upset. He couldn’t sleep at night. He didn’t want me to quit swimming because he knew I put so much effort into it in Russia.”

On Thanksgiving Day, Oleg reminded his son of their conversation.

“He told me that yesterday,” Lenny said. “When he talked to my coach in Russia, the guy said, ‘Lenny is born to be a backstroker. He was born to be a great athlete.’ I think he always felt that in the back of his mind.”

Schubert knew about the life-changing conversation too. “That’s what I said when he broke the world record, ‘Be sure to thank your dad for not letting you quit,’ ” Schubert said.

Krayzelburg started training closer to home but again was realistic. He knew 10 hours a week would not result in a major college scholarship, as he balanced school and his job as a lifeguard at a recreation center in West Hollywood. His junior college coach at Santa Monica, Stu Blumkin, spotted something in Krayzelburg and alerted Schubert.

Schubert was immediately hit by two things: Krayzelburg’s superior technique and his competitiveness.

“We had a number of guys who were among the best backstrokers in the world,” he said. “Lenny kind of just dove in and he would kill himself to stay up with those guys. He would literally stay up with them until he couldn’t stay up with them anymore.

“Then he would come back the next day and do the same thing. After a week or so, Stu Blumkin called me back and said, ‘What do you think?’ I said, ‘I think this guy could break the world record. He’s amazing.’ ”

His most amazing work may be yet to come--in Sydney.