Analysis : The Closer They Get, the Harder It Is for Abdul-Jabbar to Take

There is a scene early in “Stardust Memories,” a Woody Allen movie dealing with the underside of fame in our society, in which the audience is given a glimpse at the way a celebrated, but jaded, film maker views his public.

Stepping out of a limousine, the character played by Allen is swarmed by admirers who are made to look ridiculous and even a bit scary by the use of extreme close-up shots with a wide-angle lens. There are relentless autograph hounds, misguided girls propositioning him, a hideous-looking woman caked in makeup wanting to enlist his help in some obscure fund-raiser.

That must be the way Kareem Abdul-Jabbar sometimes sees the sporting public, which often disregards decorum and the Laker center’s privacy simply for a few empty moments of attention. In the movie, Allen’s character never shoved a camera back in the face of an annoying fan, though the motivation clearly seemed to be there.

Real life can be more harsh, however, and Abdul-Jabbar on Tuesday was convicted of a misdemeanor offense for doing just that to an Italian tourist toting a video camera in a Phoenix shopping mall last April.

On the videotape, shown Tuesday night by one local television station, we see a crude black-and-white tape of Abdul-Jabbar cruising the shops in a white T-shirt and sweat pants. Even though the tape is fuzzy and amateurish, we can see that Abdul-Jabbar is annoyed. Eventually, he moves closer and swats away the camera, as if shooing away a fly.

For this, Abdul-Jabbar now faces a fine of as much as $1,750 and the remote possibility of a jail term for misdemeanor assault.

The scene after the verdict was handed down stretched irony to an extreme. Leaving the courthouse, the tourist was besieged by media representatives, some of whom toting mini-cams. Fernando Nicolia obviously savored his moment of fame, and his victory.

“It’s important, because he has to realize that he’s just like anybody else when it comes to the law,” Nicolia told an interviewer.

Not surprisingly, the man missed the point.

Abdul-Jabbar is not a normal citizen. How many times have you been followed by someone wanting to videotape you at your local mall? Some of us even feel a bit threatened when we see ourselves on a video scanner at a neighborhood convenience store.

Being a public figure, of course, Abdul-Jabbar has certain responsibilities. He earns $3 million a season in a most public profession, and thus must expect a severe reduction of a private life.

On his farewell tour, which resumes next week, Abdul-Jabbar has sort of struck an unspoken bargain with his admirers. They honor him with gifts and genuine praise, and he responds by being accessible and open during press conferences that seem the same in every city, and by making speeches to the fans. It has gone without a hitch, and Abdul-Jabbar sometimes even seems to be enjoying it all.

Beyond that, though, he does not have to tolerate blatant intrusions into his privacy. Tuesday, when a reporter called him at home for a comment on the court’s verdict, he hung up without saying a word. Although Abdul-Jabbar’s phone manners may be questionable, not commenting was his prerogative.

Life also imitated art during a recent incident at the Sacramento airport, stirring images of “Stardust Memories.”

Waiting to board an early morning flight to Salt Lake City, a middle-aged man and woman sat in a corner of the boarding area, he furtively smoking a cigarette in a non-smoking area and she reading a paperback.

A few minutes later, the Lakers arrived and sat, as a group, as far from the crowd as possible. Abdul-Jabbar, however, walked to a bank of telephones to place a call.

The woman pawed through her bag, pulled out a camera and dragged her partner out of his seat. While Abdul-Jabbar leaned against a support and talked on the phone, the woman sidled not two feet from him and instructed her husband to take a snapshot.

The photograph was snapped--without incident, by the way--and Abdul-Jabbar did not miss a beat in his phone conversation.

The incident made one observer cherish his anonymity.

Later that day, walking a quarter-mile from a press conference at the Salt Palace to the team’s hotel, Abdul-Jabbar was besieged by autograph seekers. He obliged many, but then another strange event took place.

A car skidded along the snow-packed streets and stopped. A door was flung open and a man jumped out and ran toward Abdul-Jabbar. He thrust a pen and paper in front of Abdul-Jabbar and requested an autograph for his wife.

“We just got married,” the man said, out of breath.

“Congratulations,” Abdul-Jabbar said, flatly.

Then, he kept walking, refusing to sign.

Those familiar with the case in Phoenix snicker when the subject of a jail term for Abdul-Jabbar is brought up. After all, the tourist was not seriously injured--no facial disfigurement was apparent during his TV sound bit, at least--although his video camera was damaged.

Most likely, when the penalty is imposed later this month, Abdul-Jabbar will be fined and perhaps required to do some community service.

But in a broader sense, he has long been a prisoner of fame. When the Lakers travel to Phoenix, there is little to do on a day off except walk from the hotel to the Metrocenter Mall, where the incident took place, or across the street to a few restaurants.

After last April’s incident, however, Abdul-Jabbar may feel confined to his room, the only escapes being room service, cable movies and the telephone.

So, in a way, Abdul-Jabbar already has done his time in solitary, and retirement will be his parole.

Given last year’s incident in Phoenix and the constant public intrusions, it is not surprising that Abdul-Jabbar has talked in his various farewell press conferences of his desire to spend retirement on a deserted beach somewhere, reading a book and sipping a cool drink.

Suggested reading for Abdul-Jabbar might be Walker Percy’s novel, “The Moviegoer,” which, in part, deals with the public’s fascination with celebrities.

In one passage, Percy writes of a fictional sighting of actor William Holden on the streets on New Orleans:

“I am attracted to movie stars but not for the usual reasons. I have no desire to speak to Holden or get his autograph. It is their peculiar reality which astounds me. The Yankee boy is well aware of it, even though he pretends to ignore Holden. Clearly, he would like nothing better than to take Holden over to his fraternity house in the most casual way. ‘Bill, I want you to meet Phil. Phil, Bill Holden,’ he would say and then go sauntering off in the best seafaring style.”