For the rest of time, humanity can make valid arguments for who the best NBA player of all time was. Is it Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, or even LeBron James? Maybe it’s somebody else. Considering that you can’t fully appreciate an athlete unless you’ve lived alongside their highs and lows, awaiting their next game on ESPN, the world may never get an answer on this particular question. It mostly exists as a fun thought experiment that will never go out of style, especially as new generations pop up and prove their worth.
Though, if I’m being honest, there aren’t too many that have used their celebrity status quite as strongly as Shaquille O’Neal.
This is of course because he has one of the craziest branding techniques of all time. There is something about him that has continued to transcend time, making him a welcomed presence everywhere he goes. He pops up in commercials for General Insurance. He makes cameos in the Pepsi-funded movie Uncle Drew (2018). There is something about him that is inescapable, and you can’t help but fall for his dad jokes, his playful jabs with Charles Barkley, or that he seems to be a genuinely nice guy. So long as you’re not playing him on the court (even then, he was game for Aaron Carter’s “How I Beat Shaq”), you get the sense that he’s a cool guy to hang out with.
Maybe it’s just because I’m part of a generation that grew up during his peak. I’d watch The Lakers during the Kobe-Shaq era and felt like basketball would never get better. Even then, that came somehow LATER in his career. He had practically a decade before he elevated The Lakers to a three-peat championship. It’s hard to believe, but that is what makes his story both so surprising and even inspiring.
Yes, it’s a decade where he was more known as a prodigy during the Freshman season of The Orlando Magic, playing opposite Penny Hardaway. His story is just as mythic, serving as this seven-foot giant who was a beast on the court and had the potential to change the game in the decade going forward. New teams could do worse than to acquire someone of Shaq’s talent and future acclaim. It’s unlikely that most people could recognize someone from the original class of The Toronto Raptors.
That could explain why he formed his own cult in the years going forward. His name had this incredible ring to it. “Shaq” rhymed with just about everything and was short enough to fit into any phrase. He exploited it to its fullest potential, becoming known for things like The Shaq Attack, Shaq-Fu, and Hack-a-Shaq. He was starring in movies from Oscar-winning directors like William Friedkin’s Blue Chips (1994) and even in the quintessential rapping genie movie Kazaam! (1996) - now available on Disney+!
Which brings me to my point: Shaq was such an unstoppable force that he could and did just about everything in his career. This included having a rap career, becoming the first noteworthy NBA star to break out into hip-hop. Because of the public perception of Kazaam!, I’ve generally ignored his music career because I worried that it would be desperate, lacking any real charm. After all, nobody is really talking about “Shaq Diesel” when looking back at his many accomplishments.
Even then, there’s something worth considering with his rap career. He’s not the last person to do this. If you look at more recent examples, it includes The Portland Trailblazers’ Damien Lillard. By the name Dame D.O.L.L.A., people say that he “has bars.” It makes sense, especially since the worlds of hip-hop and basketball overlap very often. Both are first experienced on the streets, in parks, where people commune and find these braggadocios ways to express themselves.
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It’s clear that Shaq clearly hung around this crowd. He’s always been willing to crack jokes and undercut his friends’ confidence. The playfulness of Shaq’s rap career comes from somebody who was clearly hanging around latchkey kids watching afternoon cartoons and playing ball in the park. So much of this music exists in some youthful fondness for the media of childhood, and it’s both a delightful aspect of his career, but also explains why his music isn’t considered to be on par of the artists that his music clearly owes credit to: Dr. Dre, A Tribe Called Quest, and even Public Enemy.
But hey, he did good when you look at the figures. For starters, he’s one of the only NBA stars to have a professional record contract (on Jive). His song “(I Know I Got) Skillz” became a Top 40 hit. Also, and this may be his biggest bragging right, “Shaq Diesel” is the only album of this classification to go platinum. That’s over a million copies sold.
Not just anyone can sell a million off of a gimmick as rich as Shaq’s. That just explains how massive his appeal was in 1993. It’s also evident with how much “Shaq Diesel” is rooted way too much in the music culture of 1993.
I think one of the most difficult things about approaching an album like this 27 years later is how the genre has changed in that time. It isn’t just that it has become more respected. It’s that things have become more complicated. Sound has been played with and rappers have told more elaborate stories. If you compare Shaq to later artists like Jay-Z or Kendrick Lamar, you’re going to wind up disappointed. Where they’re trying to find ways to push the game forward, Shaq is just a goofball who even in his 20s was mastering the art of dad jokes.
“Shaq Diesel” is not an essential record in any respect. With that said, it exists in the world of party records, where you put it on not to think about what you’re listening to, but just get into the spirit. It has the soul of a jock jams collection, serving a lyrical dexterity that is only slightly less vapid. Still, if Shaq is trying to appeal to any crowd, it’s those who make this music to get pumped up, recognize their self-worth, and have fun. It’s about living in the moment, enjoying the fact that you can afford people like Phife Dawg and Fu-Schickens for cameos.
Basically, it’s the kind of album that you’d expect to play in the background of basketball games, not really thinking about the lyrics. The only thing that makes it something more exciting is that when Shaq brags about being better than everyone, he is one of the few that is capable of being serious. He’s the guy whose massive size has pulled down backboards. We don’t need to question every brag he does here because unlike say The Beastie Boys, we’ve seen him do it. He can reference changing his name to The Mailman since Karl Malone can’t deliver because The Magic probably beat The Utah Jazz sometime in the past (also, it’s one of his better burns here).
Unlike The Beastie Boys, he’s also someone who isn’t capable of sustaining his appeal for an entire album. Oh sure, every song has this wonderful flow to it. It takes itself as seriously as it needs to. However, once you get to the third song “Where Ya At?” you are noticing the novelty start to fade. What started as something fun and goofy begins to become clear. Shaq’s wit is limited in what topics he can pull from: his talent, basketball, and TV shows. Boy does he love TV shows. He even references the slogan for the very-90s company Ubu Productions. THAT’S how rooted in the moment this is.
With that said, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that “Intro” has this strange appeal to it. It’s a montage of moments that are meant to get us hyped. Starting with his NBA Rookie Draft announcement, it’s clear how much he has achieved. We are awaiting The Shaq Attack. What is he going to deliver? The production is so sharp that you can feel your heart starting to race. The smoke is about to clear and here comes the man of the hour. As far as music to play us in, this works as one of the instrumental tracks for the late-80s Public Enemy. It’s call and response material that gets you on board.
It’s also the hypnotic tool that makes you wish that the rest of the album had any weight behind it. “(I Know I Got) Skillz” is an enjoyable enough song. Add that to the next song, the origin-making “I’m Outstanding,” and you’ll get the sense that we’re getting a unique look into him. I love how “I’m Outstanding” is a story about him being grateful for the direction that his career has taken. Because he idolized basketball, he avoided a more dangerous path. This is an emotional moment that may not be the densest but makes you believe that there’s a complexity to “Shaq Diesel” that will be rewarded by the end.
Eh… not really.
Guest vocalist Def Jef has more of an arc than Shaq’s childhood.
If you want to see this as high art, it’s a disappointing record. After “I’m Outstanding” adds depth to everything that came before, Shaq returns to the style he began the album with. No more heart on his sleeve. All there is is a bunch of music reflecting the style that was popular at the time. P-Funk pops up here and there, while “Where Ya At?” plays like a goofy hide and seek song that makes Shaq sound more senile and blind than hip. Other times guest rappers trip over their words. The style is cool, but this is clearly sampling all of the big hits.
By the end, “What’s Up Doc? (Can We Rock),” it’s fallen into a full-on cartoon. As the title suggests, there are several Bugs Bunny references to be had. There’s even a shout-out to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood in-between talking about how Shaq is able to dunk on just about everyone. Of course, by then, you're mostly thankful that the album technically only has 10 songs and runs under 40 minutes.
That’s what ultimately works about “Shaq Diesel.” It doesn’t outstay its welcome. It’s innocuous enough that you don’t mind being stuck in these songs. As mentioned, it’s a party record at its heart, and it does everything to achieve this. Given that Shaq had a significant rap career after this, it’s clear that others liked it. Frankly, I’m a fan enough of this that I wouldn’t mind seeing what else he has to say. I am not expecting a masterpiece, but Shaq is one of those ubiquitous artists that I feel can get away with the tough guy act alongside some of the greatest self-deflating brags in history (his favorite cartoon was “Bullwinkle the moose”).
That may be his ultimate charm. Outside of basketball, most things exist to entertain himself. So long as he’s having fun, we’re all having fun. That’s the thing. “Shaq Diesel” doesn’t need to prove anything. He is allowed to make dumb jokes and brags, and I’ll enjoy it all the same. Most of all, I think he genuinely is good at this rap thing. I figured that he would have more of a huffy quality to his flow, and yet he never makes a line feel forced. It’s all genuine to his vision, and I like it.
I’m scared to see what the world of NBA rap has to offer, if just because I don’t think any have had the platform that Shaq had. Even Kobe Bryant’s album got canned for some reason. Yet Shaq prevailed, managing to show that it isn’t so much about being the best, but just to evoke a sense of fun. I doubt many will reference this in his obituary in a few decades. I’m sure some madmen will reference Kazaam!, but that’s mostly because we all have different entry points for him. Still, The Cult of Shaq is real, and I’m here to say that even if this doesn’t explain why he’s so beloved, it explains what’s so charming about him. He followed his dreams no matter what. Nobody needs to tell him that he’s outstanding. He just is. You too can be outstanding if you apply yourself. That, my friends, is what makes “Shaq Diesel” good.
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