It didn't strike me at all the first few times I saw it. Just another NBA-themed movie promotion aiming to coax a few more sunburned summer bodies into ten-dollar theatre seats. I suppose we've all become a bit numb to David Stern's marketing machine. It is, after all, part of the league's promotional strategy to produce a 30-second pat-on-the-back advert every time one of its 500 or so millionaire players reads Dr. Seuss to a classroom of underprivileged kids. But on a championship June evening, one commercial among the sea of Madison Avenue sludge made a lasting impression on me.

The concept was simple: rapid-fire images of Shaquille O'Neal dunking the ball and grabbing rebounds intercut with clips from the upcoming Superman flick. The logo on the Caped Crusader's chest merging with the faded tattoo on the Diesel's arm. Special effects and highlights. Movie heroism and sporting heroism. The Big Icy Hot selling us the next summer blockbuster.
 
But these weren't clips of O'Neal ripping down the basket as a lean young star in Orlando, or extending his giant right paw three feet above the rim to throw down a Kobe lob against the Blazers in the Western Conference Finals. This was the current incarnation of the Diesel: still larger than life, but heavy and slow, no longer the go-to guy on his own team. Booming sound effects and exploding graphics couldn't make Shaquille that player again. Not even for 30 seconds.
 
And instead of Christopher Reeve and Gene Hackman playing comic book chess with the future of humanity, Kevin Spacey and some chiseled cheekbone kid I've never heard of stood in their place. The movie sequences looked computer-graphic slick, big budget modern, and the important details seemed familiar. But in the end it just didn't feel quite the same.
 
It was the same as watching Shaq labor through this year's NBA Finals. There were momentary flashes during the series when we got to see the dominant player we once knew, but it was never sustained and didn't feel right. While Dwyane Wade was busy establishing himself as the new face of professional basketball with a one-man show for the ages, the player who had carried that mantle since the retirement of Michael Jordan was left lurking in the shadows, rarely even given the opportunity to touch the ball down the stretch of the most important games of the season.
 
O'Neal's diminished performance can't be written off as the result of technicalities like free throw problems. When the Lakers beat the Indiana Pacers in the 2000 NBA Finals, Shaq had a miserable time from the line, shooting just over 38% for the series. But he still managed to average 38 points while carrying the Lakers to victory and winning Finals MVP. The "hack-a-Shaq" strategy was devised during his most dominant Laker years, and the big fella never let it temper the tenacity of his play.

Shaquille would probably like us to believe that his deteriorating numbers are merely the result of his deference to the emerging genius of Dwyane Wade. While Shaq has an undeniable superstar serving as his right hand man these days, he was never comfortable sharing the spotlight with Kobe Bryant, who, for all his faults, has the ability to be every bit as spectacular in a seven game series as Wade was. The lasting impression of his relationship with Kobe will always be tainted by the rancorous way his stay in Los Angeles ended. But the big man's baritone Wade is the best in the World rhetoric after game six sounded suspiciously like the Kobe is the best player in the World rhetoric Shaq used on occasion during the happier times in La-La land. If O'Neal still had the same ability to dominate, it's a fair assumption that he wouldn't be nearly as content taking a back seat to the emerging Wade.  
 
Simply put, and as difficult as it is to admit, Shaq's physical abilities have deteriorated to the point that he is hardly recognizable when compared to clips from just a few seasons ago. It's obvious to anyone who watches the games objectively. He no longer utilizes the turnaround finesse jumpers and rhythmically sweeping footwork that combined with his unmatched strength to set him apart from every other power player in the league. The big man ballet O'Neal danced in the lane every night was as much a hallmark of his game as the two handed monster dunk that comprised his shoe logo. Now virtually anything he throws up outside seven feet from the basket fails to get higher than the rim. He's still deadly within arm's length of the hoop, but the changing defensive rules in the NBA have allowed teams to more effectively deny him the deep catches he now requires to score.
 
While the reviews for the newest incarnation of Superman have yet to make their way to newsstands, the reviews for the new and far from improved Shaquille O'Neal came in Tuesday night, and they were universally positive. How could anyone, even the most rabid Lakers fan, not be thrilled to see the big guy up on the championship podium again, beaming that million dollar smile from ear to ear? The fact that he didn't carry this Heat team to a title won't matter twenty years from now when Shaq's career is discussed in retrospect. Shaquille O'Neal is back where he belongs, in the NBA winner's circle, and it ultimately matters little that he had to play second-fiddle to make it there again. His performance may not have been dominating, but when the NBA's final history is written, his legacy will be.

I have dreaded seeing the Superman series remade, but maybe I should give this new Man of Steel a chance. I mean, if you had told me several years ago that Shaquille O'Neal would score nine points in the clinching game of the NBA Finals, and his team would come out on top, I wouldn't have believed it. Two great American brands, linked by an upper arm tattoo and now by a silly commercial, have changed before our eyes. The Big Aristotle has gotten older and slower, while the Caped Crusader has gotten younger and flashier. Those of us who haven't been lucky enough to catch a sneak preview of the Hollywood remake can't yet attest to whether it is good enough to carry the brand name. But as the NBA Finals came to a close Wednesday night with all the blinding lights of victory shining on Dwyane Wade and his supporting cast, we all got a glimpse of an aged Shaquille O'Neal, his wife at his side, reminding us that while newer isn't always better, sometimes it's more than good enough.