When we started training camp in ’03–’04, Kobe was coming off knee surgery. I told reporters he should be more of a passer
than a scorer until he heals. Looking back, it was kind of a dig. Old habit. Kobe fired back I should leave the guard play to him and go set up on the block where I belong.
So that was how the season started. There was tension. We were sniping at each other a lot.
I had my own issues at that point. We had been trying to get an extension from the Lakers on my contract and certain promises were
made. They told me if I could convince Karl Malone and Gary Payton to come to LA for less money, they’d take care of me on the other
end with my contract. So I’m on the phone begging these two future Hall of Famers to come. It wasn’t an easy sell. Karl had his legacy in Utah and he was leaving a couple of million dollars on the table. Same for Gary in Seattle.
But I held up my end of the bargain
and convinced them to join us.
The Lakers didn’t. The extension wasn’t materializing. We’re in Hawaii for a preseason game and I’m going off. I’ve got about 30, I’m interacting with the fans, I’m
feeling it
. So I turn around, hit a deep fadeaway, then run past Jerry Buss and shout, “Pay me.” Buss didn’t like it. I could tell he was ticked. He thought I showed him up.
By that point I had a new
agent named Perry Rogers. He called me up and said, “Man, you can’t do that.”
I said, “Hey, I was just playing,” but Perry was really angry at me.
“You messed this up,” he said. “Being disrespectful is not going to help these negotiations.”
So I’m on edge because I don’t have a new deal, and Kobe is on edge because he might be going to jail, so we’re taking it out on each other. Just before
the start of the ’03–’04 season the coaching staff called us in and said, “No more public sparring or you’ll get fined.”
Everyone knew it was simmering, but Mitch never came down. Magic Johnson, who was around all the time, never said anything.
But Phil was tired of it. Karl Malone and Gary Payton were sick of it.
I said, “All right, I hear you. I’m done.”
So what happens? Immediately after
that Kobe runs right out to Jim Gray and does this interview where he lets me have it. He said I was fat and out of shape. He said I was milking my toe injury for more time off, and the injury wasn’t even that serious. (Yeah, right. It only ended my damn career.) He said I was “lobbying for a contract extension when we have two Hall of Famers playing pretty much for free.”
I’m sitting there watching
this interview and I’m gonna explode. Hours earlier we had just promised our coach we’d stop. It was a truce broken. I let the guys know, “I’m going to kill him.”
That night Brian Shaw gets a call from rookie Devean George. BShaw had retired and was a scout for the Lakers in Northern California, but Devean told him, “They’re going to want you down here. The shit hit the fan today. Shaq is going
to destroy Kobe.”
Sure enough, a couple of hours later Brian gets a call from Phil and Mitch Kupchak. They ask BShaw to fly down and intercept me at the practice facility the next morning. My bodyguard, Jerome, got wind of what was going on, so the next morning he went by my house early to pick me up, but I was already gone. He knew if I was up that early that I was a dangerous man.
BShaw was
waiting at the training facility for me when I pulled in. He had been around me for a lot of years. He knew when the talking was done and it was time to knuckle up.
I said to Brian, “Did they bring you down here? It won’t matter. I’m going to kick his goddamn ass.”
Brian convinced me to go inside to the theater at the practice facility with Jerome and wait.
A few minutes later Kobe pulled up.
Brian said to him, “Shaq is going to kill you. He’s going to fuck you up on sight.” Kobe grinned and said, “Ooooh, am I supposed to be scared?”
“Yes,” Brian told him. “This is no joke.”
Meanwhile Horace Grant and Karl Malone have joined me and Jerome in the theater. They were backup in case they had to physically restrain me from going after Kobe. GP was too small for that job, but he wasn’t
about to miss all the great Shaq-Kobe drama, so he was in there, too.
They get me and Kobe into the theater and instantly it’s a shouting match. We’re cursing each other and calling each other names and I’m making a move for Kobe when BShaw steps in and tells us both to sit down.
Brian starts with me. He says, “Shaq, you are being childish and immature. You dunked on Eric Dampier in preseason
and started acting like a goon and yelling at Jerry Buss, ‘Pay me,’ and now that’s coming back to bite you in the ass.”
I wanted to tell him,
I did that because Jerry Buss said he was going to give me an extension and it hadn’t materialized, yet,
but before I could say anything BShaw held up his hand.
“And Kobe,” he said. “Shaq takes a beating every season. You know that. Phil told Shaq to take
the summer off and let his body recover. He’s always told Shaq to take his time getting back in basketball shape.”
So now Kobe starts saying, “But I work so hard every summer . . .” but BShaw has his hand up again.
Then BShaw hits us both across the bow. He starts telling us how after we lost in ’03 we told the media we needed to get younger and more athletic, and that ended up costing him and
Robert Horry their jobs. “You guys are so worried about yourselves that you didn’t even think about us,” he said.
I was kind of shocked. BShaw was right. I’d never considered that what we had said had anything to do with him or Rob not being asked back. I was just trying to give the politically correct answer. I hadn’t meant to undercut Brian or Rob.
Kobe is trying to hear BShaw out but he can’t
contain himself. He stands up and goes face-to-face with me and says, “You always said you’re my big brother, you’d do anything for me, and then this Colorado thing happens and you never even called me.”
I did call him. Everyone knows Jerome is me. I had Jerome call for me—twice. But Kobe never picked up. I told him, “We reached out to you but you didn’t accept that. You kept us all out. You
didn’t tell any of us anything. None of us in this room have any idea what went on in Colorado.”
To this day, I still don’t know what happened in Colorado. Kobe never came clean. He came in very quiet to practice and stayed away from the topic. The only details we knew were what were reported in the papers. Kobe eventually admitted to having a sexual relationship with the girl but said it was
consensual.
So here we are now, and we find out he really was hurt that we
didn’t stand behind him. That was something new. I didn’t think he gave a rat’s ass about us either way.
“Well, I thought you’d publicly support me, at least,” Kobe said. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”
BShaw chimed in with “Kobe, why would you think that? Shaq had all these parties and you never showed up for any
of them. We invited you to dinner on the road and you didn’t come. Shaq invited you to his wedding and you weren’t there. Then you got married and didn’t invite any of us.
“And now you are in the middle of this problem, this sensitive situation, and you want all of us to step up for you. We don’t even know you.”
At that point GP and Horace put in their two cents’ worth. They told us we were
hurting the team with our bickering back and forth in the papers.
Everyone was starting to calm down when I told Kobe, “If you ever say anything like what you said to Jim Gray ever again, I will kill you.”
Kobe shrugged and said, “Whatever.”
Karl said, “This has got to stop. It’s petty and stupid and we’re tired of it. I didn’t come here for less money to deal with this bullshit.”
They finally
made us hug. It was a black bro hug. We tapped each other and agreed we’d have a truce.
But, from that day on, I was done dealing with Kobe. I was done dealing with Jim Gray, too. What goes around, comes around. When he got fired, he actually had the nerve to call me and ask me to help him out. What, did you lose Kobe’s number?
In spite of all the fireworks, we started out that ’03–’04 season
winning twenty of our first twenty-five games. Kobe was dealing with the sexual assault charges every day, and even though the charges were eventually dropped, the stress was finally wearing on him. He was trying to fix it all on the basketball court by scoring as many points as humanly possible. Naturally I’m not happy about it.
By this point our relationship had really broken down, although
we kept it out of the public eye.
Phil wasn’t saying much, but he never did. He understood he was dealing with two alpha males. Two crazy dudes. Two crazy dudes, but we were winning and playing. People had this idea of what it was like on the outside, but it wasn’t like that on the inside.
It was almost like a game. Kobe would use TJ Simers or Bill Plaschke to put the wood to me, then I’d come
back and use JA Adande to get my message across.
Simers was the real joke. He liked to puff his chest out and say, “I talked to Kobe today.” Good for fucking you. Nobody else wanted to talk to you anyway.
The back-and-forth stuff was uncomfortable for the other guys, but for Kobe and me there was a benefit to it, sort of an untelevised reality show. It kept us in the spotlight. We could handle
it—until that final season.
Here’s the funny thing about our so-called feud. All I ever said about Kobe is what everyone is saying now. I just had the balls to say it. I made sure I didn’t belittle him too much because I knew we needed our one-two punch. I was putting up big numbers and he was putting up big numbers, so we weren’t really all that worried about much. Phil knew what was going on,
which was why he rarely stepped in. Phil knew what was driving me: Kobe. And he knew what was driving Kobe: me. In four years together I can remember Phil calling me and Kobe into his office only one time. He knew the tension was good for us, good for the team.
He also knew that sooner or later, two alpha males were going to tear each other limb from limb. Only one alpha male is usually left
standing.
By February, our negotiations with the Lakers were at an impasse. They were offering two years at $21 million a season, and that wasn’t going to work. After I won three championships and three Finals MVPs, they wanted me to take a $10 million pay cut—and they were willing to guarantee only two years.
Now, did I start acting crazy? I suppose I did. But their approach was a slap in the
face. It was a sign of disrespect. Deep down, I knew I could get the money somewhere else. Perry told them if their offer didn’t improve, I would be asking for a trade that summer.
Somehow Kobe and I made it through the rest of the year without any major issues. BShaw managed to get us back on track. It’s kind of funny when you think about it. All these supposed Lakers leaders who care so much
about the franchise, all these Lakers legends, none of them ever had the courage to say anything to Kobe and me. Not Kareem, not Magic, not Mitch Kupchak, none of them. Only Brian Shaw took us on. Yet when the Lakers job came up in 2011 they didn’t give Brian Shaw a chance by looking right past him. Go figure.
Anyhow, Kobe and I put a lid on our little differences. Even if I don’t like you, if
you’re open I’m going to get you the ball anyway.
Even though we backed off each other, we were still dealing with a divided team. You were either a Kobe guy or a Shaq guy. We even had two trainers. If Chip Schaefer taped me for practice, then Kobe wouldn’t go to him. He’d use Gary Vitti instead. Childish stuff. Juvenile. We all got caught up in it.
Fun times with the Lakers. That gives you
an idea of what my last season in Los Angeles was like.
Somehow we still won fourteen of our final seventeen games. Our championship chances took a big hit when Karl Malone injured his knee. He played in the postseason but he wasn’t the same guy. We needed him more than we realized.
We still managed to beat the Spurs in the playoffs. We were tied 2–2 in games with San Antonio, and Duncan hit
a tough fadeaway one-legged jump shot with ten seconds to go. We couldn’t believe it.
So now it’s our turn. We’ve got the ball out of bounds with 0.4 seconds to go, which leaves you barely any time to get a shot off. But we get the ball to a wide-open Derek Fisher and he drains the sucker. I saw the red light go on and ran as fast as I could before they could change the call. Lakers win. We go
up 3–2 in the series and ended
up closing them out. Everyone is asking me about DFish’s miracle shot and I told the truth: “One lucky shot deserves another.”
We’re set to play Detroit in the Finals, and both Kobe and I felt we were the better team—we just forgot to play like it. Every time our offense bogged down, Kobe tried to take over. After the loss in Game 3, which put us behind 2–1 in the
series, someone said to me, “They were going to you over and over again, and you were getting the ball down low and scoring every time, but then it seemed you guys went away from that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Story of my life, buddy.”
The Pistons beat us in five games. It was a little stunning. Nobody was very happy about it. Right away I could tell something was up. We had a dinner/reception at the
hotel after the game, and my wife, Shaunie, and I were sitting there and who walks in but Jerry Buss.
He’s never usually around, but there he is talking and laughing with Kobe and his wife, Vanessa. We’re sitting just a few feet away but he doesn’t come over, doesn’t say a word to us all night, doesn’t even look at us.
Nothing.
A couple of days later I’m at home, and I find out Phil Jackson
isn’t coming back. His contract was up and they didn’t renew him. I turned to Shaunie and said, “It’s over.”
I was told by Mitch I was going to get an extension and be a Laker for life. The next thing I know I’m sitting in my kitchen eating my Frosted Flakes, and he’s on television saying they’d consider trading me.
We had an agreement with the Lakers. The agreement was we would have no discussions
with the media at all about my future from either side—them or us. If they were asked about whether they were going to extend me, they would say, “We’ll leave that to ourselves.”