Good Days And Bad Days

Two months ago: Shaquille O’Neal and I played darts in an Allentown Hotel.

He laughed.

He joked.

He talked about his life, including becoming a father.

Four nights ago: Before the Orlando Magic-76ers game in Philadelphia: Shaquille O’Neal said, “I don’t want to bleepin’ talk to you.”

After he repeated himself, I left and didn’t return.

Go figure.

One day he’s friendly and funny. Another, cold and rude.

To summarize: the Magic were stuck in Allentown for three days during the Blizzard of ‘96. They hung out at a wedding, visited with Sesame Street Live characters and spoke to local media.

I was fortunate enough to spend an hour or so with O’Neal in the Hilton’s Trophies Sports Saloon. He talked about everything from the weather to a movie in which he’ll play a genie.

He also said he’ll be a father by the end of the summer. His girlfriend is expecting in August.

“I’m going to have a son,” he said. “I can just feel it.”

Well, I casually mentioned that in a column which ran Jan. 9. The Orlando media, specifically a bunch of radio guys, got wind of it and ripped O’Neal.

They had numerous questions. Who is the girlfriend? Where is she? Will they marry? And, of course, is O’Neal a good role model?

When O’Neal returned to Orlando, the media were in a frenzy. They labeled him a cad, assuming that he hadn’t gotten permission from his girlfriend before making the announcement.

O’Neal was hounded about his personal life. Finally, he called a press conference to say he wouldn’t talk about that part of his life anymore.

“Stuff that was done was very silly,” he said then.

Yes, one innocuous comment was turned into a week of talk-radio fodder. Teammates supposedly feared O’Neal would leave Orlando when he becomes a free agent after the season.

“A guy like Shaquille doesn’t have to take anything from anybody, especially in Orlando,” point guard Anfernee Hardaway said. “If they keep putting pressure on him, maybe that will drive him away and he’ll want to go somewhere like Los Angeles or a bigger city where people don’t make a big deal about anything like this.”

I prepared for the worst Monday night. That’s what I got.

“He won’t talk to you, will he?” Orlando guard Brian Shaw said. “Your story created a big problem for him.”

What about the guy who played darts and joked around? Where was the Shaq who sang an impromptu rap song about the snow?

The O’Neal I saw Monday was stern. He didn’t look at me, once he realized who I was. He didn’t raise his voice. About six teammates were around him. None said a word when he spoke to me.

“You just can’t talk to him when he’s like that,” said guard Darrell Armstrong, a good friend of O’Neal’s. “I even stay away.”

Two months ago, I liked Shaquille O’Neal. He was friendly and approachable. He signed autographs for anybody who asked (at least in front of me).

Monday, I had a much different opinion. I thought he was rude and unprofessional, anything but a role model.

Yes, I was angry. Shaq didn’t give me a chance. I don’t think he ever read my column.

Now, after thinking about it for a few days, I think Shaq’s just like everyone else. He has good days and bad days, just like me. Maybe Monday was one of those bad days. Maybe not.

Honestly, what right do I have to judge O’Neal? I’ve had two brief encounters with him: one lasted an hour, another about 10 seconds.

I really don’t know Shaquille O’Neal at least not well enough to judge him. So I won’t.

Neither should anyone else.