I'm not sure it matters now, but I never came to terms with Shaquille O'Neal. His bruising physicality was in many ways a burden, as fellow players, coaches and NBA executives all saw in him the potential to be The Greatest Player Ever.
No pressure, right?
Without ever having had that kind of pronouncement bestowed upon me, it's hard to understand it fully. But I suspect it was a 24/7 cam of expectation.
And Shaq was pretty good. He led a young Orlando Magic team to the NBA Finals at the age of 22. After jumping ship to join the Los Angeles Lakers (why isn't that a cliche yet?), he and Kobe Bryant formed a powerful duo as the Lakers ran off three consecutive championships in '00, '01 and '02.
But as we saw with the Jordan-era Bulls, success quickly became a game not played on a basketball court. Who was the better player? Who deserved most of the credit? Who was the leader the rest of the team turned to when things got tough?
These squabbles caught fire much quicker in L.A. than they did in Chicago, and the inevitable power struggle between O'Neal and Bryant led to the former leaving Lakerland after the 2003/04 season. That was also the last time Shaq n' Kobe went to the NBA Finals as teammates.
After exhausting the Laker front office with multiple injuries and escalating salary demands, O'Neal was jettisoned to the Miami Heat.
A stellar first season seemed to bode well for his stay in Miami, but before long the all-too-familiar foot/ankle/toe injuries set in. O'Neal managed to play just 59 and 40 games the next two seasons.
He managed a minor comeback in 2008/09 with the Phoenix Suns (playing in 75 games), but the end was clearly near. After a year each with the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Boston Celtics as a second-stringer, he retired.
In the end, O'Neal is a study in contradiction. While his athletic abilities were routinely described as “limitless”, those assessments did not take into account O'Neal's personality. Despite a public persona that was playful—almost childlike—he suffered ruptured relationships with scores of the people he played with and for.
And that's not even taking into account the media.
At the core of those disputes were O'Neal's outsized ego, petulance and a work ethic that frequently left coaches scratching their heads. Lakers' coach Phil Jackson even referred to him as “probably the only player I coached who wasn't a worker.”
Trapped between unlimited physical potential and a personality not hard-wired like Bill Russell's, Larry Bird's or Michael Jordan's, Shaq was almost doomed to fail. No matter how well he played, the perfection of infinity always lay ahead, untouched.
But Shaq's critics had their points. He struggled to hit half his free-throws, a fact which the opposition frequently exploited. And when properly motivated, he could be a monster on defense. Problem was, he wasn't always motivated.
He showed who he could be in the 2000/01 season and was deserving of the MVP trophy as a result. But he never reached those heights again. It appeared he was (gulp) satisfied. Bryant and assistant coach Tex Winter weren't shy about expressing their frustration.
O'Neal's pettiness was spotlighted when he publicly criticized those who elected Sun's guard Steve Nash to consecutive MVP trophies. Nash, a likeable guard who served as the engine for the team nicknamed 'The Solar Express', somehow stole the votes that, by right, were O'Neal's.
Sigh.
And O'Neal did it again recently, using the pulpit afforded him by cable TV's 'NBA on TNT'. Only this time, the thief was Denver Nuggets center Nikola Jokic, who was unfairly awarded his third MVP in four years.
Even more curiously, the two players he openly questioned happen to be white. It could be coincidence, and it could be something else. Not being a social media subscriber, I am ignorant of any opinions he might have offered on Black MVPs.
At any rate, this tempest is certainly interesting. Especially since Nash is a Hall of Famer and—barring a career-ending injury—Jokic will be as well.
It leaves me wondering: is O'Neal projecting his own disappointment over winning a single MVP award onto Nash and Jokic? Maybe he has regrets. Maybe he wishes he had done certain things differently.
If so, welcome to the club, Shaq. Nearly all of us have those thoughts at some point in our lives.
But at the age of fifty-two, I wish you could express those thoughts without besmirching the accomplishments of others.
Many people would say you have enjoyed a disproportionate share of life's gifts. It's a shame that largesse hasn't created in you an equally vigorous sense of graciousness.
You know, the way you were fawned over as a player.
