Shaq Uncut: My Story (26 page)

We also had Jason Williams, who everyone called White Chocolate. I had always wanted to play with that dawg. He was a point
guard, a tough little son of a bitch, and he could throw the perfect lob. I used to daydream about throwing down one of his passes.

Miami was a great city with a lot of potential. When we moved there I bought this big, beautiful house on Star Island. It was Rony
Seikaly’s old house, and since Rony was a seven-footer I didn’t have to do much of anything to it. The showers were already the right
height; the ceilings were good. My wife loved the house, my kids were really happy. It was all good.

I used to host a party in every city while we were on the road. Basically I was showing DWade how it was done. I was also trying to get the team closer. The way it worked was, I had this guy named Money Mark who would deal with the clubs in cities when were out of town. They’d pay me to make an
appearance and host a party. I got DWade to come with me, along with Damon Jones, Posey, GP, Antoine Walker, Udonis Haslem, and Dorrell Wright. Once in a while, if we were in Washington, D.C., or New York, Zo would show up wearing his little hat. Zo always had to wear a hat ’cuz he was bald.

We called the parties our “team meetings.” We’d talk about having a “team meeting” right in front of the
coaches. They thought we were sitting in a room talking basketball when we had those “meetings.” We all knew what “team meeting at eleven meant.” Be in the lobby ready to party.

Pat didn’t like it because GP, Antoine, Posey, and those guys would go at it a little hard with the partying. Me? I’d be sitting in my little section drinking water. Damon Jones, who was only with us for one season, would
grab the mic and we’d start rapping.

Damon Jones was the first one to call us the Heedles. Those dudes in Miami who call themselves the Heedles now stole that from us. We were six years ahead of them. C’mon, DWade, come clean. You know that’s true.

We had a great time at those parties and it gave us a chance to do some bonding. It made it easy on my bodyguard, Jerome, too, because we’d all roll
in the same limo and be in the same little section so he could keep track of all of us.

Miami was a young, fabulous city but they were a little short on young, fabulous people. I was just doing my Shaq thing, spreading the love.

We had some great parties at our house on Star Island. I used to take my kids to the zoo once a week and I got to be friendly with the owner. I convinced him to let
me have a zoo party and he brought all the animals to the house.

When people drove up, there were the lions and tigers out in the front driveway in their cages so people could take pictures with them. We had camels and elephants wandering around the property. Monkeys, too. We had a big stage put up so people could dance and have fun.

Another time we had a Midsummer Night’s Dream party. Guests
had to dress like Egyptians. Everyone came—the actors, the politicians, the chief of police. We had superstars flying in from LA. Our guest list could have anyone from Donald Trump to Ludacris.

For one of my birthdays we had a Scarface party. Everyone had to come dressed in white mafia suits. We rented the house in Miami where the movie was shot and we passed out cigars. Every week, my wife Shaunie
and I were in the papers. It didn’t take long for me to take over the city. Zo called me “the Largest Human Wonder of the World.”

But Pat didn’t come to many of the parties. The only one he came to was when I helped the Heat out of a jam. They had some major season ticket gala they were planning and something went wrong and they were scrambling for a place, so I offered Pat my house. We put on
an amazing party and Pat was really appreciative. All these boats pulled up to the island to hear Gladys Knight and the Pips put on a show for us.

Those were the memories of Miami that helped me get past how it ended in LA. Our team was stacking up Ws, the guys were gelling, I was in full Shaq mode, and we were going to win a championship. I could just feel it.

When the 2006 playoffs rolled
around we had won fifty-two games and were peaking at the right time. Pat came into the locker room with this bowl. They were index cards all mixed up in there with everyone’s name on it. His slogan was “15 strong.” Each card
had a little saying on it. Pat made it clear he wanted the contents of the bowl to be a secret. Each time we opened the locker room to the media the bowl was covered. He
threatened us with a pretty hefty fine if we told anyone what was in that bowl.

One day he came in and said, “This is my championship ring, and I’m putting it in the bowl today.” Sometimes he put inspirational DVDs in there. Other guys put pictures of their families in the bowl. I never actually put anything in, but I understood what Pat was doing.

Fifteen strong. It made sense to all of us.
We bought into it, but I had to Home-Boy-ize it up to make it a little more interesting. The whole idea of it was kind of corny, so I made up a raunchy rap about the bowl so we could relate a little better.

Because I was the only one with a ring, the guys asked me all the time how to prepare. My advice was simple: do the same thing all season. If you started the year going to bed at 2:00 a.m.,
then end the year going to bed at 2:00 a.m. If you have been going out the night before a game all season, then keep doing that. I’ve found through the years that kind of consistency matters. Your body gets into a certain rhythm and you want to maintain that.

“I told the guys, ‘Just go with it, dawgs. Let’s ride this thing home. I can’t wait for the playoffs. We’re going all the way. I’m already
thinking about what I’m going to wear for the parade.’ ”

We beat Chicago, New Jersey, and Detroit on our way to the Finals. None of those teams really gave us much of a scare.

So we got to the Finals feeling pretty good about our chances against the Dallas Mavericks. And that’s when we got punched in the face. Jason Terry dropped 32 on us in Game 1, and the Mavericks won. Then, in Game 2, Dirk
Nowitzki had 26 points and 16 rebounds, and suddenly we were down 2–0 in the series.

DWade reminded me a little bit of myself when I was in that first Finals against Hakeem. He was being too nice, too respectful of the opponent. I told him, “Get mean. Get hungry. You can take over this series.” They were fronting me and backing me, so I couldn’t do shit. DWade needed to step up and take over.

I told him, “All we’ve got to do is win one game and then we’ve got them. Trust me, I know those boys from Dallas. They’re going to get tight. Jason Terry never did like pressure.”

The Dallas owner, Mark Cuban, did us a huge favor. They were up 2–0 and he started talking about planning a parade. They actually published the route in the paper. Pat got ahold of it before I did.

He came into the
locker room all pissed off. He was banging the table and throwing chairs and handing out body slams and shouting, “After all we’ve been through, fifteen strong, are we going to give up? This fucking guy is planning a goddamn parade.”

A little bit of it was for show, but he got his point across. I got my boys GP and Antoine and Posey riled up, and DWade took care of the young guys, and we were
good to go.

Yet somehow we still managed to fall behind by 13 points in Game 3. For a second I was wondering,
Hey, maybe we’re not going to get this done.
But, just as I was thinking that, I looked at Posey and he had this “It ain’t over” look on his face, and so did Antoine and GP and DWade. So we got in a huddle and I said, “Let’s keep doing what we’re doing.”

Truth is, we were used to playing
from behind. I loved that group of guys because they never panicked. We had our moments where we’d get mad at each other once in a while, but we believed in each other.

Udonis Haslem was a hardworking guy who would do anything you asked him. Anything at all. He
is
Miami. He was born and raised there, and he would do whatever it took to stay there. He had a couple of free-agent offers after the
2009–10 season that would have paid him more money, but he wanted to stay put. He loved Pat and Pat loved him. If Riles told him to run into a brick wall he’d say, “How fast?” His body fat was always right where it should have been. He never complained, whether he got a lot of shots or no shots at all. He’s the kind of guy who helps you win championships.

Alonzo Mourning was the same way. He
sacrificed a lot to be on that championship team. He could have gone somewhere else and
played more minutes, but he was willing to play behind me for the good of the team.

In Games 1 and 2 I had missed 14 out of my 16 free throws. I was ticked off and embarrassed about that, so the night before Game 3, when we were back in Miami, I went to the gym to work on it. It was late—about nine or ten
o’clock—and I heard music, and some noise.

There’s DWade working on his fadeaways, his floaters. I was impressed. It was the first time since Kobe that I saw a young fella really working at it. I was just shooting free throws, but he was going full speed. He had a kid there throwing the ball off the backboard at half court so he could take off in transition.

Wade turned the series around for
us. He was fantastic. He just took over. In Game 3 he scored 42 points and dominated. I chipped in with 16 points, 11 boards, and 5 assists. GP hit a monster shot to win it for us, and Dirk missed a free throw in the final seconds.

One thing about the Finals is, once you get some momentum, nothing can stop you. When Posey hit some threes, Antoine hit some big shots, and I finally knocked down
some free throws, you could feel it all changing.

Our fans were awesome. Everybody in white, waving those towels, making noise. Once the crowd got into it, the look in Dirk Nowitzki’s eyes changed.

In Game 4 it was our defense that won it for us. That, and another fabulous game from DWade. We held the Mavericks to 7 points in the fourth quarter, which was a new record.

During Game 4, Jerry
Stackhouse was called for a flagrant foul on me. He was upset because in Game 1 he came to the hole and I just stood there, and he rammed into me and broke his nose. He probably wanted to get me back. The good thing about me is I’m groomed to take the punishment. Sarge made sure of that by the tactics he used on me growing up.

I was breaking to the basket in transition, and Stackhouse went up
and put his elbow in the back of my head. I didn’t even feel it.
When someone comes at you with everything they’ve got and you don’t even make a facial response, you have them.

I learned that from Hakeem in my first Finals. I bowled him in the stomach and he said, “That was a good one.” He never talked trash, never got mad. He came down on the next play, threw five moves at me, and hit a fadeaway.
As we were running back down the floor he said, “You’ve got to hit me harder, big fella.” I remember thinking,
Damn, so that’s how it’s done.

When I went to the basket and Stackhouse tackled me, my first thought was to come up swinging, but
ding! ding! ding!
I can’t do that now. The best thing I could do, especially being a terrible free-throw shooter, was just get up and knock down both free
throws, which I did.

After the game they asked me about the play and I told them, “My daughters tackle me harder when I come home.”

I’ve always known how to fight, but also how to take a punch. People ask me, “Who hit you the hardest? Who was the toughest?” I tell them, “It’s my father. No one else is even close.”

So we come back from being down 2–0 in the series to tie it 2–2, and Jerry Stackhouse
gets suspended for Game 5 because of his attempted takedown on me.

Game 5 goes to overtime. At that point it seemed to me Dallas sort of panicked. DWade was destroying them and they had no answers, so they started blaming it on the refs. They claimed they weren’t allowed to touch DWade and were getting nailed with “phantom fouls.” DWade had 25 free-throw attempts in that game, which was as many
as the entire Mavericks team, so maybe they had a beef, but they really lost their composure.

After DWade won the game for us on two free throws, Dirk kicked the ball in the stands, and Cuban was going after the referees and talking about conspiracy theories, and it was all falling apart.

The Mavericks started arguing on the court. Eyes never lie. That fierce look that Jason Terry had in Games
1 and 2? Gone. All that
chest pumping—it stopped. In Games 3 and 4 the eyes of the Maverick players got bigger, and by Game 5 they were bug-eyed open. I actually heard one of them say, “The pressure’s not on us.”

Right. You’re cooked.

What I always do during the national anthem is start with my head down, then I look up to see who is watching me. A couple of Dallas players were staring at me
before Game 5, but as soon as I looked up and caught their eye, they looked down.

Same thing with Chris Webber when he was in Sacramento and Arvydas Sabonis in Portland. They’d look at me and I’d look back as if to say,
That’s right. I’m coming for you.

After we won three games in a row to go up 3–2, we had to fly back to Dallas to try and close it out in Game 6. Pat came in and said, “Everybody
better pack only one suit. We’re finishing this up in one game.” He was serious. He told the guys, “If you pack two suits, then you might as well stay home. I’m not letting you on this bus.” He actually checked our luggage as we got on.

I packed myself a black suit with a black shirt, because in my mind we were going to kick some ass and then have a funeral. Once we got to Dallas, Pat separated
us from our families. He put them in one hotel and moved us somewhere else.

We beat the Mavericks 95–92 to win the championship. There was one guy I felt sorry for, and that was Dirk Nowitzki. Dirk was no front-runner. He’s a great player. He’s always done what he’s supposed to do. He’s a good guy, a hard worker. I’m one of those people who understands you can’t do it alone. I knew what was about
to happen to the poor bastard. It was going to be all his fault, even though he had played great.

After we won we had a fabulous party at the Crescent Court Hotel. We partied all night. Pat Riley was a dancing fool. I really enjoyed watching him let loose. A lot of guys got up on the mic and said what they loved about our team. I didn’t say anything, though. It wasn’t my show. It was DWade’s
night. I was so happy for him and Udonis and Zo. It was my fourth championship and they don’t ever get old,
but there’s something about the first one that is always special. So I kind of hung back and watched the guys who had never gotten one before, like Antoine and GP and Posey.