It’s No More Mr. Nice Shaq

Conversations That Could Have Changed Last Season, Part I:

Shaquille O’Neal: “Hey, Nick.”

Nick Van Exel: “Yeah, Shaq?”

O’Neal: “Shut up.”

In a Laker debut filled with howls and growls, nothing said more about Shaquille O’Neal than what he wouldn’t say.

On the court, he was a dizzying light. In the locker room, he was a lamppost.

When a teammate needed his ears cuffed, O’Neal stood uncomfortably with his hands in his pockets. When the entire squad was desperate for an authoritative voice, he spoke in whispers.

O’Neal was the Lakers’ center, their main attraction, their most delightful presence.

But he was not their leader.

He says he knows that now.

He says this season he will try to change, to run the Lakers as Michael Jordan runs the Chicago Bulls, and Karl Malone runs the Utah Jazz.

He says he will not be afraid to privately criticize those who are loafing, or publicly praise those who are not.

He says he wants to be more than just the prettiest room in the house. He says he wants to be the foundation.

No More Mr. Mice Guy.

“Last year, with me being new and everything, I didn’t want to step on anybody’s toes,” O’Neal said Monday at training camp.

He shook his head.

“This year, I’m not going to worry about hurting anybody’s feelings.”

Who knows if this new approach will last more than a month before it is eaten alive by his fun-loving personality?

But for now, Laker fans should consider this about 320 pounds’ worth of good news.

Conversations That Could Have Changed Last Season, Part II:

O’Neal: “Hey, Elden.”

Elden Campbell: “Yeah, Diesel?”

O’Neal: “Wake up.”

Last year’s Lakers offered plenty of offensive and defensive pressure.

What they didn’t have was any peer pressure.

That was particularly evident during crunch time of their second-round playoff series with the Utah Jazz, which they lost, four games to one.

There was nobody to keep Van Exel from losing his head.

There was nobody to remind Campbell that he was embarrassing himself.

There was no liaison between Coach Del Harris and the players, nobody to provide the sort of man-to-man motivation that today’s highly paid seem to heed most.

There was no Jordan ripping Dennis Rodman, or Malone ripping Chris Morris.

“When you’re a player, hearing something from one of your teammates, who you respect, often means more than hearing it from the coach,” said Kurt Rambis, a Laker assistant who was around when Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Magic Johnson presided over the locker-room court.

The Lakers have always thrived on this sort of leadership, but insecurity, and then injury, kept O’Neal from offering it.

“By the time I was feeling comfortable here, I hurt my knee,” he said. “In the end, I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t feel I was at full strength.”

But it was the end that perhaps represented the beginning.

After Kobe Bryant’s 14-foot airball at the end of regulation time eventually led to the Lakers’ final-game overtime loss in Utah, the first person to reach Bryant was O’Neal.

He put his giant arm around the teenager and walked him off the floor.

During the next couple of months, the Lakers told O’Neal they need that sort of behavior the entire season.

Not only did O’Neal get the message, he turned it inward.

Remember two summers ago, when he said he has won at every level except college and pro? And how people are still laughing about that today?

On Monday, he clarified that.

“I can look in the mirror and say, ‘Yeah, I’m a great player,’ ” he said. “But I know I haven’t won yet, so I’m not that great.”

Laker teammates, get ready for more of that same about you.

“For us to be a team, we have to be able to get on each other,” he said. “We have to learn to take criticism.

“I have to be able to say, ‘C’mon Eddie, that guy is killing you. Get your butt in gear.’ ”

O’Neal said he is going to share what he learned from his military father.

“Criticism is good, it can help you get better,” he said. “My father used to tell me, ‘Don’t listen to how I say things, listen to what I say.’

“That’s the way it has to be around here. We have to learn to take it.”

O’Neal is certainly entitled to dish it out, based on his hustle and hard work.

And he said he can accept criticism too. When everybody talked about his game being limited, he said, he listened.

“Wilt and Kareem, they dog me every day, I never say anything,” he said.

Instead, he said, this summer, he did something.

“I didn’t work on anything but shooting, free-throw extended,” he said. “No dunks or short stuff, just outside shooting, two hours a day by myself.”

Sounds good, but then, in October in the NBA, everything sounds good. Laker fans will be hoping, and listening.

Conversations That Could Have Changed Last Season, Part III:

O’Neal: “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie Jones: “Yeah, Shaq?”

O’Neal: “It’s the playoffs, man. Tighten up.”