People have hobbies.
Lots of people. Lots
of hobbies. These hobbies
are different from what these people do as their day jobs; that's what
makes them hobbies.
Many people play basketball as a hobby. Not Shaquille O'Neal. Ol' Shaq plays basketball as his day job, so he needed
to find something else to do for a hobby. He found it. Shaquille O'Neal is a part-time,
amateur superhero.
Now, this shouldn't really surprise anyone: Shaq is the most visible example of superhuman we
have. He's right in the
vicinity of seven feet tall, and he weighs something like three hundred
pounds, but it's all muscle. Being a professional athlete
means he's in excellent shape, so he's able to outlast, outlift, and outrun just about anyone. I mean, the man has convincingly
portrayed a motherfuckin' genie, for Christ's sake.
No, what's really surprising is that Shaq actually has the motivation to fulfill his superhero-esque
responsibilities; I mean, even Spider-Man had to see his uncle die as a
result of his inaction before he got up and did something about
it. Not Shaq,
though; he learned that lesson early, presumably from those same comic
books reporting the plight of Peter Parker et al.: "Fool me once,"
boomed Shaq in that voice which strikes
terror into the hearts of the wicked, "shame on you. Fool me twice," he
continued, "SHAQ on you!"
See, Shaquille O'Neal spends the NBA
off-season as a sheriff's deputy somewhere in Virginia... when he's not making
movies, commercials, video games, and
not-quite-as-bad-as-you-might-rightly-assume hip-hop releases. He made headlines a couple of
months ago when it was reported that he was involved in a raid on an
alleged child porn distributor.
It turned out, of course, that the warrant was for the wrong
home, and the guy they busted in on, whose front door was presumably
considerably enlarged by Shaq making his way
through it, was not at all involved in child pornography, or anything
illegal at all as far as anyone can tell.
This one anecdote entails a number of
distinct facts. And
contrary to what the media have irresponsibly portrayed (think J. Jona Jameson's irrational hatred of Your Friendly Neighbourhood Web-Slinger), it's all very
reassuring, good news.
First: Shaq is out
there, fighting crime and helping to preserve our safety. Sure, he might not be everywhere, but shit, even
Superman can't be everywhere;
I find it pretty reassuring to know that some day, somewhere (probably
Virginia, apparently... which I guess is good, because I can't think of
a single other superhero covering that part of the world), my
life/purse might be saved by Shaq... who
doesn't even need a superhero name, since his actual name
("Shaquille O'Neal," if you'll recall) has enough assonance
to fulfill roll-off-the-tongue secret identity requirements, and his
moniker, "Shaq," is plenty
superhero, as far as I'm concerned.
Second: all the facts seem to point to Shaq actually being a pretty decent superhero, and
he is, in fact, staying true to the whole "with great power comes
great responsibility" thing; I mean, he's an honest-to-God
deputy! What's even better;
he's good at it! (Catch the
Boondock Saints reference? Good kid; it's all in the spirit
of crime fighting/vigilantism/real-life superheroes.) I mean, think about it: you can't run from him, because
he'll catch you. You can't
fight him, because he'll fuckin'
swallow you. You can't even hide from him,
because motherfucker has a warrant
and knows where you live!
Third: just like a real superhero, he can
catch you even if the police have no idea what you're up to. That's what's great about the
supposedly "botched" child-porn raid: even if you're the
slickest crook there is, leaving no trace, and the police have no idea
what you might be doing, there remains a slight but non-zero chance
that someday, somewhere (again, probably in Virginia, but you don't
know that shit for sure...), Shaq might bust
in on you, and catch you in the act... and then he'll stop you, because
he can. And don't think
that bullets can stop him; they clearly can't. As everyone knows, Shaq's only weakness is free throws, and it's
pretty hard to work that into some kind of criminal scheme, if you ask
me; I mean, even kryptonite could be made into a bullet, or put in
Clark Kent's food, or something.
Just think about it: let's say the dude they
had the warrant for, the mistaken child-porn guy, was actually some
kind of international human-trader, or arms dealer, or Doctor
Octopus. Well, the police
may not have known that at all... and it might have gone on like that
forever, had it not been for Shaq, who just
happens to "mistakenly" wander in on Lex
Luthor trying to blow up the Moon or some
shit.
"Goodnight, Moon!" Luthor cackles, evilly.
"Not so fast, evildoer," rumbles Shaq, unexpectedly smashing through the wall of the
den in Lex Luthor's
suburban Virginia ranch house.
"Blast! Foiled again!" exclaims Luthor, eyes bulging as he submits to a headlock
from a seven-foot mountain of a man. "And I would have gotten
away with it, too, if it wasn't for that meddling Miami Heat
centre!"
Now that is a reassuring thought, and I can
sleep more easily because of it.
Goodnight, Moon... Good to see you're still around. Thanks, Shaq.
