If I’ve learned nothing else (no debate there) from disseminating and deciphering decades of drivel, I’ve deduced that athletes are like children — they should be seen a not heard.
The latest blithering example of that judgment is Shaquille O’Neal. Once a dominant center, the jelly belly spent the last five seasons of his career careening around the league on rubber legs and cashing unearthly amounts of unearned checks in Miami, Phoenix, Cleveland and Boston.
The more impotent The Big Revisionist got, the more resentful he became of anybody who called him out or was easy target practice, as his scratch-and-claw autobiography (with Jackie MacMullan) distastefully attests throughout.
Among the boundless literary gems in this ptomaine tome is Shaq’s edgy relationship with Pat Riley. Historians might accurately recall that O’Neal, after his Hollywood breakup with Kobe Bryant, owner Jerry Buss and a Kardashian to be named later, couldn’t wait to take his talons to South Beach.
Heaping helpings of praise on Padre Riles, Shaq referring to him, as I recollect, “the perfect coach” and embraced the prospect of playing for him because, “I come from a military family and discipline is what I need.”
The coach wanted two things … owner Micky Arison management to invest $100 million of his in Shaq and for O’Neal not to turn into the Pillsbury Dough Boy.
Riley apparently hadn’t paid attention to how unshapely The Big Donut showed up late his last seasons with the Lakers. His expectation that Shaq would exhibit the same kind of pride in his body and game as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar did was sheer romanticism.
Kareem kept himself in pristine condition and remained a force into his 40s.
Shaq kept himself in Pringles condition for much of his 30s and became a farce.
Yoga vs. Yodels
Jack LaLanne vs. Jack in the Box.
So now, a bit more than three seasons (February, 2008) after being deported from Miami, Shaq is ripping Riley, citing — among others — an expletive-laced incident where he went face-to-face with the coach — as Alonzo Mourning and Udonis Haslem tried to intercede — over teammate Jason Williams’ expulsion from practice for being 30 or so seconds late.
What habitually angered Shaq, of course, was Riley’s insistence (and accompanying luxury fine system if over the calorie cap) O’Neal weigh in at a truck stop en route to the arena.
After winning the ’06 title (52-30), the Heat dropped like a Tased Philly fan. We’re talking 44 wins in 2006-07 (swept in first round by Chicago) to a whopping 15 in 2007-08. That 2007-’08 team was so ugly, long-time season-ticket holders high-tailed to Havana.
Not to worry; it’s all good now for Shaq. Another chapter, another settling of scores, thrill killing, twisted perception or fabrication. The more spiteful the spew, the higher Riley, Kobe, Kareem, Magic Johnson, Dwight Howard and Chris Bosh get bumped up in my esteem.
TNT could not have signed someone more qualified to match blissful ignorance, tedious babble and self-serving mouthfuls with Charles Barkley.
On second thought, should the NBA ever get around to staging the 2011-12 season, Shaq might make Sir Cumference and Kenny Smith look like geniuses … or, at least, idiot savants.
* So, where do we stand? The commissar has been eerily silent since uttering the phrase “Nuclear winter for the NBA” (now there’s a greeting card waiting to be trademarked and trafficked), while the union is speed-reading “Decertification for Dummies.”
I suspect the upcoming, abbreviated work week offers enough of an excuse for both sides to do what they do best — nothing of substance — which means we’re essentially dark for December.
Billy Hunter’s trade union either just distributed $50,000 checks to each dues-paying player or is about to do it. They already had received $100,000 per about a month ago. Leadership would be wise not to forget to do right by the homeless, the hungry and hospitalized kids during the holidays.
Many early season college games redefine the term, “padding your schedule.” Column contributor Brian McGunigle emails: “I can’t tell you how excited I was to see West Point beat Marywood by 55. It was the Army’s biggest margin of victory since the invasion of Grenada.”
CC Phillip Marmanillo appears to be a bit down on Cutino Mobley. “Here’s a guy with a bad ticker who’s acting cheated and is suing the Knicks because he accepted a $19 million free lunch from an insurance company paid by James Dolan. And the players can’t figure out why the owners bolted the door on the lot of them.”
Hold on a second, Eddy Curry’s on the phone. Since both sides have left the table, he’s wondering if he can have their portions.
Who says the NBA isn’t a trendsetting organization?” asks CC Stewart Summers. “Officials at Chrysler and General Motors have offered their employees a 50-50 split of BRI — that’s Bailout- Related Income.”
In Jerry Sandusky’s defense, at least he didn’t violate the BYU honor code.
Turkey Day is right around the corner, so, as a public service, I ask you to help feed Latrell Sprewell’s family.
I originally felt Kim Kardashian married up but now I’m convinced it was Kris Humphries.
This just in from column castigator Frank Drucker: “Several of Spawn Kemp’s baby mamas sued him for unfair labor pains.”
The Mysterious J. wonders if Joe Paterno’s doctor looked the other way when he first diagnosed him with lung cancer?