Everything that Shaq wanted to battle Kobe for last year he now wants to hand-deliver to him. MVP, scoring title, recognition as the league’s best all-around player -- there’s nothing Shaq doesn’t want Kobe to have.

But the Diesel’s world is too loud, too large, too technicolored to simply say that. He needs superheroes and marketing theory and a home-spun -- seemingly from whole cloth -- tale to convey his newfound equanimity.

"My father took me out in the evening one time just as the sun was setting," says Shaq. "He said, ‘See that? The sun don’t shine forever. You won’t be famous, the dominant center, forever.’ Wise man, my father."

Never mind if this Hallmark moment seems too good to be true. Talking to Shaq is like watching Cirque de Soleil -- forget figuring out what everything means and why. Just enjoy the spectacle of an analogy slapped on top of a parable wrapped in a metaphor. He went on to note how Batman needed Robin and Superman needed the Super Friends to be extraordinary. Suddenly he’s switching to economics, and to whom the general public relates best.

"No one roots for Goliath," he says. "In marketing, they like the little guy. I understand that. I’m cool with that."

Although he’s only 30, his teammates talk as if he already has one arthritic toe on the retirement threshold. "He’s really here for us now," says point guard Derek Fisher. "He’s not here for us to give him the ball and score 60 points on his birthday. It’s like your big brother handing something down to you."

Forward Rick Fox, for one, understands that he wouldn’t have two rings and a shot at a third without the Daddy. "I told him I hoped he wasn’t offended by how he carries me," Fox says.

But as good as the Daddy may be, one can’t help but imagine him 20 years down the road.

Maybe it’s the fanciful tales, or the skipping through the locker room after a massage singing, "I feel gooood! I feel gooood!" or the custom-made drawstring purple suits -- but what would be better for a kid than to have Shaq as his Granddaddy?

He has appeared on TV with a muffin-caked smile, and he has a line on all the chocolate and burgers you could want. He makes it his business to have all the latest and greatest toys, doesn’t let reality get in the way of telling a good story and routinely refers to himself as a comic-book character. There isn’t anything one of his grandkids could do that couldn’t be defended by, "Yeah, but Granddad did it …"

As good as he has been on a basketball floor, something tells me the best is yet to come -- off it.

Ric Bucher covers the NBA for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at ric.bucher@espnmag.com.