NBA FINALS : THE NBA / MARK HEISLER : Shaq Longing for Less as More

Shaq’s shamming again.

A day before the NBA finals opened in Orlando, he’s surrounded by reporters, speaking so low, only the people directly in front of him can hear. If his answers were any shorter, he’d be Gary Cooper in “High Noon.” Yup. Nope. Maybe.

Shamming is O’Neal’s own word for “short answer method.” It’s designed to discourage reporters when he doesn’t feel like being bothered, which is usually.

The large group dwindles. A newcomer walks up and asks someone who’s leaving, “Any new mumbles today?”

Ironically, Shaq is scrutinized so closely on the floor, there’s a name for it--Shaq bashing--but it misses the point. On the floor, Shaquille O’Neal is a model young player and virtual terror instrument. Off it, he may be the NBA’s most disappointing personality of the ‘90s.

It isn’t that he doesn’t have a personality. It’s that he hides it unless he’s being paid.

In real life, he’s a big kid of 23 whose idea of fun is to get the 12-year-old a few doors down to take his speedboat onto the lake and make some waves so he can jump them on his jet ski.

O’Neal loves water slides. He has tried bungee jumping and wants to sky-dive. He’s playful and has a great sense of humor. In a good mood, he may give away his best tricks like shamming, or as he told GQ magazine’s Alan Richman, “I got four versions of the smile. I got the $1-million, the $2-million, the $4.6-million, and, if you’re real good, the $8.8-million.”

That may be funny but it isn’t a joke. O’Neal has a dozen manufactured personalities--Neon Boudreaux in “Blue Chips,” Grandpa Shaq in his sports drink commercial, Scary Shaq who’s stared down by a young boy in his soft-drink spot--but if you aren’t paying, he isn’t staying.

Here are some highlights from his pre-finals session, in which he told of sneaking into a game when he was in high school in San Antonio to get Hakeem Olajuwon’s autograph:

Question: How old were you?

Answer: About 16.

Q: Did he know who you were?

A: Yeah, he knew who I was.

Q: He was nice?

A: Of course.

Q: (From Bill Fay of the Tampa Tribune) Do you think the Shaq bashing is lessening?

A: Not with you, it isn’t. I don’t even worry about it. I just do what I have to do, just keep playing. . . . Most of the Shaq bashing was not based on facts. It was just a lot of speculation.”

Q: How about the ’94 All-Star game when the West players ganged up on you?

A: It didn’t matter. I think for them to do that to me was a matter of respect. If you have to put five guys on a 22-year-old, that means you respect him.

Q: No one has ever entered the league with as much attention as you got. Is it wonderful, awful or both?

A: It’s been great. I’ve been lucky. I’ve just been in the right place at the right time.

Q: Is there a hard side to it?

A: No.

*

No one knows the price of fame will be curiosity. O’Neal, the most merchandised 23-year-old in history, struggles with his celebrity, embracing it when it’s fun, trying to make it go away when it isn’t.

The real Shaq thinks he has a bad press, even in adoring Orlando. When a Chicago Tribune columnist blasted him during the Bulls series, O’Neal actually applauded it. That was what a paper was supposed to do, he said, take care of the home team and rip the opponents.

“Our media doesn’t take care of us the way the Chicago media does for the Bulls,” he said. “Nobody gives me any respect. The Dallas media sticks up for the Mavericks. Our media doesn’t do that for us.”

When Michael Jordan arrived in Orlando with six bodyguards, O’Neal was impressed. He talked of getting six too.

In public, however, O’Neal generally says the right things: He doesn’t resent press scrutiny, he realizes it’s part of his job, etc.

He has been briefed. When he turned pro, his agent, Century City-based Leonard Armato, put him through a mock interview session with Prime Ticket’s Randi Hall and a camera crew to teach him how to respond.

Armato is more than casually concerned with Shaq’s image. A negative perception, no matter how small, is a dark cloud on the merchandising horizon.

“I think his personality does come through in many of the sound bites you see on ESPN, on NBC,” Armato says.

“It’s just that when there’s a big media crush around every single day, with the same reporters asking the same questions over and over and over again, it tends to become draining. . . .

“It is difficult to be Shaq at times but it’s also wonderful to be Shaq at other times. I think he approaches it in a very professional way. He realizes that dealing with the media is part of his job and he tries to give them the time they need and deserve. . . .

“You’re always concerned when anyone mentions anything negative, of course. But I think Shaq has proven he has a wonderful heart and he is a very warm person and genuine and fun-loving. . . . Of course, there are going to be times when he’s not as up because we all have our moods and when the media’s around him all the time, they’re going to see some of those downs as well as all of his ups. On balance, I think he’s handled things incredibly well and, of course, he’ll get better.”

*

O’Neal is part overgrown kid, part rebel whose father deserted the family at birth, part the dutiful son his stepfather, Sgt. Phillip Harrison, disciplined into obedience.

For all the criticism O’Neal has gotten about his game, he works hard at it. He has twice attended Pete Newell’s big man’s camp. That’s twice more than Patrick Ewing, Alonzo Mourning and Chris Webber combined. If Shag can’t make free throws, it’s not because he doesn’t practice. He shoots 100 a day.

The press is a chore to him, like practicing free throws or letting the Bulls’ “three-headed center” hack him. As in games, he soldiers doggedly on, never exploding, even when someone grabs him around the neck.

Moved to the undercard by Jordan in the Bulls series, the only player more celebrated than he is, O’Neal actually had some fun.

He joked of Jordan, “He’s Superman, I’m Superboy.”

In a wry comment on Jordan’s number change, O’Neal came to a postgame news conference with his own new number, 33, but was disappointed when few noticed.

In the giddy aftermath of Game 1, which the Magic stole in the last seconds, a rare, tentatively expansive Shaq talked of his admiration for Jordan, whom he barely knows.

“I understand,” said O’Neal. “Because, being a superstar, there’s enough people tugging at him all day. So I just say hi to him, ask him how he’s doing, how his family’s doing, just move on.”

Said Dennis Scott, O’Neal’s best friend on the team, “He’s a superstar. He knows that anything he says, even if it’s in fun or just something that’s not major, he knows a lot of times people are going to run with it. Whatever he says is like the word: Shaquille O’Neal says such and such and such and such. That’s why he plays the cautious role. . . .

“Guys like him and Jordan could easily come into a day like today and say, ‘I ain’t doing nothing. I don’t even feel like coming in. I ain’t coming today, coach.’

“I mean, what can you say? What can you say to a guy, he’s the leading scorer on your team and in the league? He’s 75% of your team. What do you say to a guy?

“But he comes in here, works hard, doesn’t complain. He doesn’t like shooting free throws but he comes in here, gets in his 100 free throws. . . .

“A lot of times it is hard. When we travel, I’m like the only person he can really trust. I really kind of keep an eye on him. A lot of times, people don’t know who I am. So I put on a hat and I look like his bodyguard. There’ve been many times when people have said, ‘You his bodyguard?’

“I say, ‘Yeah, I’m his bodyguard, get away.’ ”

The next day, O’Neal came in and shot his 100 free throws but refused to do interviews.

It was just another day in the superstar business, with everyone tugging at him. If there was a fun guy inside, he was staying inside until the coast cleared.