Big Time

It is apparently time to make a new entry in the Dictionary of Sports Nicknames, right after Big Country and Big Daddy and just before Big Unit. Los Angeles Lakers center Shaquille O'Neal sauntered through the locker room at the Staples Center last week and declared that he had dubbed himself Big Stock Exchange. When someone asked the inevitable question—why?—a broad smile spread across his face. "Numbers, baby," he said. "Numbers."

The moniker may not stick, which won't bother O'Neal, who gives himself a new one almost daily. Thanks to Big Stock Exchange and a new dedication to defense inspired by coach Phil Jackson, the market is Bullish on the Lakers, who are flourishing the way Jordan & Co. once did. Through Sunday, Los Angeles had ridden a 14-game winning streak—capped by a comeback from a 19-point deficit for a 110-100 victory over the SuperSonics in Seattle—to a league-best 29-5 record, and O'Neal was laying waste to any unfortunate center who wandered into his path. His scoring average of 27.8 was tied for second in the league, he was shooting a second-best 57.6% from the floor, he led the NBA with 14-5 rebounds per game, and, most significant, he was averaging 3.18 blocks, his most since he was a rookie. "I definitely think they're the favorites to win the championship," says Philadelphia 76ers coach Larry Brown. " Kobe Bryant is playing at a high level, Glen Rice is playing at a high level, and Shaq is playing off the charts."

But talk of a title in January is especially premature when it involves the Lakers, who have made a habit of sizzling in the regular season and then flaming out in the playoffs. In 1997-98 they opened with 11 straight victories and went on to win the Pacific Division with a record of 61-21, only to be swept by the Utah Jazz in the Western Conference finals. Last season they were wiped out in four straight in the second round by the San Antonio Spurs. "With our history we can put up all the numbers we want, and no one is going to take us seriously until we do it in the playoffs," says forward Rick Fox.

There's no denying, however, that the Lakers' success is built on a firmer foundation than in previous years. Even the sometimes shaky relationship between O'Neal and Bryant, the spectacular shooting guard, has never been better. The two were watching television in the locker room before a game last week when Bryant commented on how silly the commercial they had just seen was. "That was almost as bad as you and Hakeem on those little bikes," Bryant told O'Neal, referring to a fast-food commercial Shaq made with Hakeem Olajuwon a few years ago.

"Hey, that won awards," O'Neal said, laughing. "It wasn't as bad as you in that one where you wore that cook's uniform." Bryant donned an apron in a recent soft-drink ad." 'If I was a cook, would you care what I drink?' " O'Neal said, mimicking Bryant in the commercial. On they went, two stars good-naturedly needling each other about their thespian turns.

With the notable exception of his abysmal free throw shooting—44.9% at week's end—there is nothing about O'Neal's primary career to poke fun at these days. He is almost unanimously thought to be playing his best basketball since he entered the league. The only dissenting opinion comes from Shaq himself. "I played better my second year," he says, referring to 1993-94, when he averaged 29.3 points, 13.2 rebounds and 2.8 blocks and finished fourth in the MVP balloting. "After that year I got my first taste of being injured, and I was a couple of steps slow. The last couple of years I've had stomach injuries that kept me from doing a lot of things defensively that I used to do. Now I'm 100 percent, and I'm getting back to where I was early in my career."

O'Neal might have been better then, but so was the competition, which leads to a frightening thought: Even though he has been abusing backboards and opponents for seven years, even though he has career averages of 27.1 points and 12.2 rebounds, the era of O'Neal's true dominance might just be starting. When he and Alonzo Mourning broke into the league, the centers who were at or near the top of their games included Olajuwon, Patrick Ewing, David Robinson, Dikembe Mutombo, Rik Smits and Brad Daugherty. Today Daugherty is retired and Olajuwon, Ewing, Robinson and Smits are in varying stages of decline. The number of traditional back-to-the-basket pivotmen is dwindling as more teams turn, by necessity, to glorified power forwards to man the middle, which is like offering bite-sized snacks to the 7'1" O'Neal. After watching him rack up 22 points and 24 rebounds against 6'9", 206-pound Jerome Williams of the Detroit Pistons on Dec. 12, Pistons coach Alvin Gentry said, "That's not fair. Shaq eats more for lunch than Jerome weighs."

You could argue that O'Neal has to face only four topflight pivots who are in their prime: the Spurs' Tim Duncan, the Atlanta Hawks' Mutombo, the Miami Heat's Mourning and the Sacramento Kings' Vlade Divac. More often he has his way with centers who lack either the bulk or the quickness—or both—to offer much more than token resistance. No player in the NBA is so often hacked as a last resort, and not just because of his free throw woes. In a 118-101 win over the Los Angeles Clippers on Jan. 5, O'Neal was the main reason that the lead-footed Michael Olowokandi fouled out in just 18 minutes. O'Neal treated Olowokandi's matchstick-thin backup, 7'3", 212-pound Keith Closs, the way a wrecking ball treats a window pane. He bulled his way through Closs for prime post-up position and then turned and dropped the ball in the net as casually as if he were placing a book on a shelf, finishing with 40 points and 19 rebounds.

It is that apparent ease that has caused O'Neal's superiority to be taken for granted. While acrobatic slashers such as Bryant and the Toronto Raptors' Vince Carter seem to create a new move every time they take to the air, there is a repetitiveness to O'Neal's dominance that is almost numbing. Amid the aerial spectacle presented each night by the league's young stars, it's easy to forget that dumping the ball inside to Shaq is as sure an offensive play as there is in the league.

O'Neal has proved this year that his game is also adaptable, readily adjusting to the triangle offense installed by Jackson and assistant Tex Winter. The system calls for Shaq to find cutters with his passes, which accounts for the modest rise in his assists. (He's averaging more than three for only the second time in his career.) The triangle's spacing and ball movement also have allowed O'Neal to get even better low-post position because it is harder for defenses to sag on him. "This is an offense that should enhance the abilities of a dominant center, not take away from them," says Winter.