He’s More Than Just Cut Above : But the ‘Look’ Isn’t All That Makes Timmons a Star in Volleyball

That red hair. It’s so . . . so up! Straight up, as in finger-in-the-outlet up. A Marine-style crew cut from 1984 that grew vertically. It is downright gravity-defying.

Such is the Steve Timmons look, already instantly recognized in volleyball circles.

But if all goes according to plan in the Olympic Games, and the U.S. men’s volleyball team wins a second straight gold medal, that face that may sell you a camera.

The Steve Timmons look does, however, come with varying features:

--He can be quiet. Now 29, he had to work to overcome a case of shyness, although the success of 1984, when he was named the most valuable player in the Los Angeles Games after barely making the U.S. team in the first place, went a long way in that regard. A starter on the court, he can be reserved off.

--He can be dynamic. Timmons, who while growing up thought of being a comedian or an actor, is a crowd favorite, a true talent as a player and a performer. Kills and blocks are regularly followed by a fist in the air, or some similar display of emotion.

--He can be a businessman. After a serious post-Olympic knee injury, Timmons spent a month recuperating at his parents’ home in Newport Beach. Two things were with him much of the time: Concern and a note pad.

On the pad, he sketched out plans to market an optic yellow beach volleyball, one that would be tough enough to hold up to the pounding of the outdoor game and wouldn’t fade.

Today, a San Diego firm, a bold-stroke outline of Timmons’ head serving as its logo, is an up-and-coming, but already successful, manufacturer of tank tops, shorts, stickers and, as planned, optic yellow beach volleyballs.

--He can be a dreamer. A mop-haired Timmons went to USC on a volleyball scholarship, and the Trojans won the National Collegiate Athletic Assn. championship in his first year, 1980.

But, after two-sport success at Newport Harbor High School and Orange Coast College, where he started as a freshman on the basketball team that won the state community college title, he decided to play for the USC basketball team, too. “I thought I could help turn the program around,” he said.

Instead, James McDonald, who later played for the Rams, almost turned him inside out one day during practice. With McDonald driving to the basket, Timmons got set to take the charge. Crash! Two broken vertebrae for Timmons. He never even got the chance to suit up for a game, and from then on it was all volleyball.

Despite being a two-time All-American at USC, in 1980 and ‘81, Timmons, who took a year off after high school to build custom homes in Newport Beach, was a late bloomer.

Stardom for the 6-foot 5-inch, 205-pounder simply did not seem possible, at least not in 1984. Just making the U.S. team was a heady enough goal at the start of the year.

Then came Havana in February. Timmons had one of the greatest matches in his life although the fans were hostile, the conditions sub-par and the locker room dank. Against one of the world’s best teams, Timmons played so well while subbing for the injured Craig Buck that he earned a spot on the roster. He knew it. In the showers after the grueling five-game match, tears of joy mingled with the water running down his face.

“He was close to being cut and released a number of times in the last four years,” then-Olympic Coach Doug Beal said just before the Los Angeles Games. “Now he’s almost as important as any team member. That would indicate his improvement has been staggering.”

The staggering part, however, was just beginning.

“I try to capsulize that year in a word or two,” Timmons said the other day. “It was incredible. From riding the fence to making the team, and barely making the team as the 12th man, to becoming the MVP. I was just psyched to make the team.

“If everything could happen to you in a year, that was the year. I had to overcome my own doubts that I could play at that level consistently and beat out All-Americans that I played against in college. I had to overcome the coaches’ doubts that I could make it.”

There were other problems ahead. On Oct. 29, about three months after the success of the Olympics, his right knee blew out during a match in the same gym where the 1988 Olympic final will be played. Suddenly, there was a valley where the kneecap used to be. That had floated up to his thigh.

Timmons came back from that ahead of schedule. And, apparently, stronger than ever. Now, with his fingertips, he can touch the mark at 11 feet 7 inches in jumping drills, compared to 11-5 1/2 before the injury.

These days, there are no doubts about Timmons. He and Karch Kiraly, a housemate in San Diego, are the bona fide stars of the No. 1 team in the world and the solid favorite to win the gold at Seoul. Kiraly is regarded as the best player in the world, but the Timmons fan club reaches all points, too.

“The talent of the player is not only judged by his technical ability or his physical training,” Gennadi Parchin, coach of the Soviet Union Olympic team, said recently. “The best part about him is his attitude. I think he is one of the people the American team constantly looks to to inspire them. He has an incredible spirit. In the toughest moments, they give him the ball.”

“Even if he does bad, they give him the ball again. A lost ball brings a vicious anger out that he will have the next time he gets the ball. That is why I love that athlete.”

Parchin can even deal with the Timmons look. Sure, he said, the Soviet players would be allowed to get the square hair. Just as soon as they are as good as Timmons.

Timmons does, of course, draw stares wherever he goes, especially in foreign countries. Could it be that people just aren’t used to seeing someone with hair 3 inches tall, shaped in right angles and shaved along the temples?

“That’s the beauty of playing in foreign countries,” he said. “I don’t understand the heckling.

“Everywhere I go, people want to know about the hair. ‘What do you put in it?’ ‘What do you do to keep it up?’ ”

For the record, Timmons’ hair is pretty much the basic model. It rarely needs combing or brushing, just some poofing. He has it trimmed every three weeks and, in the most stressful of times, may use some holding spray or mousse, or a quick blow-dry.

How will it stand up to Madison Avenue, though?

That, of course, remains to be seen, but Timmons’ agent, Jerry Solomon, predicts that, with the right results in Seoul, the possibilities are big time.

“It is hard to project how a team-sports client will break out from the team,” Solomon said. “Michael Jordan did, but he is so unique. I think Steve can be in the next level with people from team sports, not necessarily in terms of of dollars but with visibility.

“Off the top of my head, he might compare to someone like Dale Murphy, who does the camera commercials. I think we can put him in some national endorsements.”

For Timmons, the once-shy, former floppy-haired basketball hopeful, that would be fine. He’s taken on James McDonald, the underdog role, a serious knee injury, a fledgling business and the best volleyball players in the world and is still standing. Doesn’t look in much of a position to fall soon, either.

“I don’t think it’s to the point yet where it gets ridiculous or of being sick of the attention,” said Timmons, who has a poster about to hit the market. “But I also know what people talk about when they say you lose some privacy when you become a public figure. But I’ve always said I’ll deal with the publicity as long as the money is there, too. It’s a trade-off.”

Oh, yes. He can be practical.