Eulogizing Shaq

Growing up, Shaquille O'Neal was my idol. Every other kid on the playground wanted to be Michael Jordan or Penny Hardaway, the athletic mid-sized players who could dart through the lane like a ferrari and walk to the basket on air. Not me. I wanted to be the 300-pound guy who swatted shots into the bleachers and broke backboards with his dunks. After years of trying, Shaq finally won his first title in 2000 and I was so giddy you would've thought I was the one hoisting that championship trophy in front of 15,000 people. I'd been watching basketball for about 7 years, but it was the first time I had something to celebrate at the end of the season. I watched him pick up a few more titles and suffer some heartbreaking defeats after that, unwavering in my support. But after 16 years of dominace, it appears Shaq is finally starting to break down.

Watching Jordan or Hardaway play was like observing a great actor deliver a rousing monologue. You're wowed by the precision and confidence in their every action, wondering what they're going to do next. Shaq in his prime was more like a cyclone leveling a city block. He'd back his man down and spin with a quickness that was unfair to give a seven-footer. This was almost always followed by a ferocious dunk with defenders hanging on him like a football player. "Force of Nature" is a cliche, but it's entirely appropriate here. That's why watching him lately has been downright depressing, like Superman getting beat up by Gerry Cooney. He fumbles passes, blows dunks, gets beaten for rebounds by players half a foot shorter and plays with the demeanor of a guy in a prison rec game who knows he has to go back to his cell at the end.

It'd be great if he could get back to his previous form, but it seems nearly impossible at this point. Shaq had a notorious aversion to off-season conditioning even back when he was undisputedly the best player in the game. Now, by all accounts, he works much harder, but it's too little too late. His stamina is shot, and his athleticism has waned to the point of nonexistence. True, he's going through a messy divorce, which even his coach admits is probably distracting him, but all the recent articles about Shaq's decline haven't been written for nothing.

Even as a kid, I could appreciate what I was watching and know that I might not see a player like Shaq for decades. On and off the court, he was unique. The one-liners he'd crack in press conferences with that monotone delivery that made you unsure if he was kidding or not. The ridiculous nicknames he'd give himself ("The Big Aristotle" was my favorite). The crappy rap albums that I still bought. "Kazaam". Off the court, he was a goofy, overgrown kid, but put him in a basketball game and he'd be out for blood.

Hopefully I'll forget what looks to be the undignified end of Shaq's career and still get to keep my memories of his better days. I can pretend his career ended in 2006, with the Heat winning the NBA title. I've already accepted this is the end of the line for Shaq. Here's hoping he gets the memo and retires gracefully.