It’s Not the Heat, It’s the Stupidity

A Shaqtacular mistake.

Seven feet of stupid.

Three hundred forty pounds of dumb.

This wasn’t a trade, this was the ultimate Hack-a-Shaq.

Desperately conceived, poorly executed, and doomed to failure.

The Lakers have dumped Shaquille O’Neal, one of the most dominant players in NBA history, a thundering giant who shouldered the resurgence of the most popular sports team in Los Angeles, a gentle soul who was once a charming source of civic pride.

In five years, when your children wonder how a great franchise became ordinary, the story starts here.

When they wonder when the once-revered Jerry Buss became a punch line, the story starts here.

When they wonder when glitzy Staples Center became an overpriced gym, well, how about right now?

At Saturday’s news conference introducing Coach Rudy Tomjanovich, folks were talking about a new chapter in Laker history.

Yeah. Chapter 11.

Bankrupt of the values that led this team to three championships. Blown credit with loyal fans. Unconscionable squandering of their best asset.

Yes, O’Neal drove folks crazy with his lazy attitude toward conditioning and summer work, and undermined the team with his unwillingness to have toe surgery during the summer of 2003.

But he was a three-time Finals MVP with that attitude.

Certainly, O’Neal’s dominance was slowly decreasing. This was his worst season yet. Sometimes he moved as slow as a Lawrence Tanter vowel.

But he was still the only player in the league who could radically change a game by merely joining it.

Fans increasingly saw him as whining, arrogant O’Neal.

But players still feared him as Shaq.

And there isn’t another one out there.

Of course, we once thought there wasn’t another executive out there like Jerry West, either.

The Laker owner has now proven he’s bigger than both of them, and hooray for him.

In five years, when your children ask what happened to Shaquille O’Neal, you tell them Jerry Buss thought he was washed up and wanted him gone.

The owner, who has been out of touch with fans since he skipped Chick Hearn’s funeral two years ago, has been out to lunch in Italy.

Buss might have talked the insecure O’Neal out of his trade request, or convinced O’Neal and Bryant to stay together, but he wouldn’t.

Does the owner look at the stat sheets?

Since the 1996 arrival of both players, in games featuring O’Neal without Bryant, the Lakers were 36-8.

In games featuring Bryant without O’Neal, the Lakers were 55-45.

Get used to those last numbers, a nice little .550 winning percentage, good enough for seventh place in the West last season, about the best the Lakers can hope for now that Bryant is in charge.

Um, Bryant is in charge, right?

He’s not going to treat the Lakers like Carlos Boozer treated the Cleveland Cavaliers, is he? He’s not going to leave the team after the team has torn up things to make him happy, right?

(Bryant and Boozer have the same agent, a guy named Rob Pelinka.)

And he’s not going to go to jail either, right? The Lakers would never have placed their entire future into the hands of a guy whose entire future is in the hands of 12 jurors, correct?

(Bryant’s sexual assault trial is scheduled to start Aug. 27).

The best way to understand this trade is to watch the many video clips of O’Neal tumbling out of bounds under the basket. Imagine the Lakers are the cameraman.

The Miami Heat instantly become one of the East favorites, ridding themselves of an eccentric scorer with a drug background, a declining role player, and a former rookie star who was one of the least improved players in the NBA.

The Lakers instantly become second tier, now building around Lamar Odom, Brian Grant and Caron Butler.

They will miss O’Neal in other ways.

During his time here, he was the only Laker who once drove through south Los Angeles on Christmas throwing toys off a truck.

He was the only Laker who paid for a new police car after one was burned in the 2000 celebration.

He was never in trouble, never on trial, never in a scandal other than one involving the childlike notions that sometimes came out of his silly mouth.

And when he offended someone, he always apologized.

In the last eight years, has any other Laker ever apologized for anything?

Fat or not, slow or not, whenever O’Neal took the court, the Lakers had a chance.

Now? Ask the former Eastern Conference champions who allowed O’Neal to leave as a free agent in the summer of 1996, and haven’t had a chance since.

In five years, when they ask about the Lakers, you will tell your children about the Orlando Magic.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.