Leave it to Shaq. At the start of the NBA finals, the Big Aristotle — or whatever nickname he's going by these days — has managed to steal the spotlight.
Shaquille O'Neal didn't need 140 characters.
He didn't need any punctuation or capitalisation.
All it took was a simple message on Twitter: "im retiring".
With that proclamation, Shaq became the banner headline.
Now that's how you announce a decision, LeBron.
The behemoth who won four NBA titles exits stage left as probably the fourth-best centre in NBA history (behind Bill Russell, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Wilt Chamberlain, but ahead of Hakeem Olajuwan, George Mikan and David Robinson).
Shaq as the "entertainer", however, has no NBA peer.
He came along at just the right time for the NBA, ready and willing to take over after Michael Jordan won the last of his six titles and the league was staggered by a devastating labour dispute.
He rapped. He made movies. He pontificated on basketball and life for whoever would listen, droning on in a low voice that was sometimes impossible to decipher but always flashing those mischievous eyes, leaving you to question whether anything he told you was to be taken seriously, even if you understood him.
We were all putty in his massive grip.
Heck, we won't even hold the movie Kazaam against him.
"I remember meeting him on the elevator my rookie year," Dallas centre Brendan Haywood said, looking back on their encounter during an All-Star weekend in Philadelphia. "He asked me, 'Are you good? Is your family good? Do you need any money?' I was like, 'No, I'm good Shaq, but thanks for offering.'
"He was just that type of person. He was a good person."
Dwyane Wade saw it firsthand when they were teammates on the Miami Heat.
"I really learned a lot from him as a professional," Wade said. "We had some great years together. Humbled, and totally honoured, to have been a teammate. But as a fan, seeing the dominance of what he did will never be forgotten."
So what more can Shaq possibly tell us? He's already opened up through every conduit imaginable, whether it was playing a genie on film or becoming one of the first athletes to jump on board the social media train.
He mocked. He enchanted. He infuriated. He charmed.
He was simply, Shaq.
No last name necessary.
"To me, he's one of the all-time greats," said Dirk Nowitzki, of Dallas. "Not only on the court, but off the floor. Over the years, being in the same locker room in All-Star games, he's one of the funniest characters this league has ever seen. So he's going to be missed."
When a giant of any sport fades away, the race is on to put their careers in instant perspective. Sizing up Shaq, many looked down on him (well, actually up, but you get the point) as someone who benefited from genetic good fortune, a guy who knocked aside anyone who got in his way.
And, it's true that he was quite the physical specimen, checking in at 7ft 1in and more than 136 kgs , but all of it proportioned in such a way that it didn't look freakish. If you think he looked big on television, you should've seen him in person. He stood apart in the crowd, even in a league where 6-footers are considered tiny.
Shaq was the unquestioned NBA star of this century, no matter who was on the team. Kobe Bryant played with Shaq, Wade took a ride, as did LeBron James. And in the twilight of his career, playing with Boston's Big Three, even an ineffective Shaq was the darling of Beantown. He even took a turn with a baton and tails, conducting the Boston Pops.
"I think he's probably one of the only big men to ever play this game to be able to market, and to be able to be marketable, off the court," James said. But for all of Shaq's accomplishments — a 15-time All-Star, a three-time finals MVP, a two-time scoring champion — there was this sense he could've been more. If only he had kept himself in better shape. If only he had spent more time on his game and less time entertaining.
Shaq captured only one regular season MVP award, in 2000 during the first of his four championship seasons. Despite his enormity, he never led the league in rebounding. He was never a first-teamer on the All-Defensive team. He was never quite Jordanesque.
But Jordan played up in the clouds, aloof and a bit out of reach for both peers and admirers. For all of Shaq's persnickety nature - yes, he could be a handful with the media - there was a sense he was one of us. "He always had something funny to say, always made you smile, made you laugh," Nowitzki said. "His personality was great."
Shaq was a role model for players such as Dallas' Tyson Chandler, a high school star at Compton, California, when O'Neal was in all his glory with the Lakers. Even as the game began to pass him by, ruled by teeny point guards with all their speed and quickness, Shaq was still a presence. "He meant so much to youngsters like myself coming up in the game," Chandler said. "He mentored a lot of us. And it was always a pleasure to watch him."
Farewell, Big AARP.
You'll be missed.
