Shaq retires, and my youth is officially over

At some point in the last couple years, when Shaquille O’Neal’s bouncing from team to team made it evident he was in the twilight of his NBA career, I jokingly decided his impending retirement would mark the official end to my youth. As far as I knew, he was the last active player remaining from the days I was a huge NBA fan: from the 1992 NBA Finals to when Michael Jordan returned and the Raptors and Grizzlies entered the league, bringing with them the modern corporate image that stormed the NBA. So I was a little saddened when I peeked at one of the TV screens behind the bar at El Bait Shop yesterday and saw that Shaq had retired.

I do not remember watching the draft that year, but I do remember the immediate impact he had on the league. To say Shaq took the professional basketball world by storm is an understatement. As a rookie, the man was a phenomenon. Not only was he tall, he was big and agile. He was a 7’1” Charles Barkley. He could not shoot free throws worth a shit, but he became a dominant force that changed the way the center position was played. And he rapped. (How well is a matter of personal opinion.) Just as my dad’s generation had “Wilt the Stilt,” mine had “The Diesel.” The backboard breaking feats of Shaq’s rookie season became legendary as I became more and more enamored of basketball.

Though my interest in the NBA has slowly waned to almost nothing since 1995, Shaq was a constant presence, connecting the current generation of players with the mythically revered superstars of the eighties. Think about this: Shaq played against Robert Parish, Kevin McHale, and Larry Bird. He brushed shoulders, maneuvering for position in the lane, with basketball gods, and has become one in his own right.

Despite the fact my youth is now officially over, another legacy from those years remains and is slowly accruing value: my bevy of Shaq rookie cards.