The last time I had a concrete answer to that question was around 2004. When people ask me today, I literally don't know what to say. I just haven't thought about players in those terms for so long. Sure, I pick my favorites in most series. I root for certain guys to finally get that title or prove that they are dominant players. And like most fans who invest their spirits in what they're watching, I get disappointed when things don't work out the way I wanted them to. But there just hasn't been that one player I put above all the rest since that time. Maybe it's part of growing up and seeing the game and its players more analytically and critically. But maybe it's not. Favoritism (not necessarily in a negative context) surely doesn't stop at adulthood.
The last player I loved was Shaquille O'neal. I had Shaq posters, Shaq books, Shaq cards. I even had Shaq on my birthday cake. He meant the world to me as a kid. Then, in 2004, the Lakers blew it all up. Shaq and Kobe couldn't get along but made it to the '04 finals anyway. They lost to a Pistons team that had less talent but was certainly the better "team." None of it made sense. I was mad at the NBA. I was mad at pro athletes in general. But mostly, I was mad at Shaq and Kobe. I felt like I was being robbed of seeing something I loved continue only because two great players couldn't figure out how to coexist in order to keep win championships.
It was never quite the same for me after Shaq left LA. That situation made me for the first time see past the on the court love of the game most professionals have. I started seeing pro athletes more like human beings and less like superheroes. My childlike admiration for Shaq was gone, but I followed him like you can't help but follow an ex. I wanted to see the success he would have and I wanted him to have it. The magic just wasn't there anymore. He went to Miami and won another title. He remained relevant on Phoenix and Cleveland before finally landing on the Celtics. Unfortunately Boston put Shaq in a tough spot when they made him a necessity as opposed to the affordable luxury he should have been at that point in his career. He played well but got hurt as players in their upper 30s so often do. Then, Shaq retired...
Wait, Shaq retired? I'm still trying to get used to the fact that most of the college athletes I see on TV are now younger than me. But seeing my favorite childhood player retire? It was one of those small hints you first start getting even as a young adult that nothing in this world lasts forever. When you first enter the sports world as a kid (even a weird kid like me whose favorite channel was ESPN Classic) you believe that the best you see have always been the best and always will be the best. I mean, you see athletes retire, but these are only the old players that existed before you were born. Something about seeing someone you saw in their prime retire for the first time hits you a little differently, especially when it's your childhood favorite.
The reason I bring all this up now is because I saw Shaq go on on The Daily Show the other night which made me want to revisit some of the old times, the good times. So I got on the old Youtube and watched the big man go to work. I watched him tear down baskets and break backboards, the insane clips that made him seem almost physically inhuman. But that was just the appetizer. The main course consisted of a 7'l'' freak of nature leading the fast break and finishing with his head by the rim and knees chest high; a ferocious intimidator who didn't just swat opponents shots down, but swatted them up fifteen rows in the stands; a solid block of human mass that could back down any player at any time and finish right over them with a dunk that had to leave some questioning why they had even stepped on the court. For dessert, a man who was lighthearted and funloving underneath the tough guy act. A little kid in giant's body.
When I look at Shaq's career objectively, I see the success but I also see the missed opportunities. Although certainly not the final say on the matter, Bill Simmons, one of my favorite sports personalities, has Shaq fifth behind Bill Russell (1), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (2), Wilt Chamberlain (3), and Hakeem Olajuwon (4) for the greatest centers of all time, a list well worthy of argument but one that I mostly agree with. I think most have him at four or five. It's easy to ask what if with Shaq. What if he and Kobe had learned to coexist? What if he stayed in better shape? What if he had learned how to shoot a free throw for god sakes? How many titles could he have won? How many spots on the all time list could he have climbed? We'll never know but it can be definitely be argued that he could have had much more success.
While I'd be happy to debate the ins and outs of Shaq's career anytime, for me it's not what's most important. What's most important for me is how he made me excited to go out and shoot baskets in the driveway. Every kid needs a hero. Shaquille O'neal was mine.
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