Marv Albert picked up the thread. "And the Houston Rockets—they're too old. Olajuwon is 37, Barkley is 34, and Pippen is 34. They can play above their level in Game 1 and steal a win, but they can't play like that in every game of a seven-game series. Their legs won't allow it, their knees won't allow it, and their lungs won't allow it. That's why I say the Lakers will finish this series within six games—not because the Houston Rockets aren't good enough, but because they're too old."
After the game, the Lakers' locker room was filled with the ease of release.
O'Neal sat in front of his locker with a gold chain around his neck and a bottle of Gatorade in his hand. The smile had returned to his face.
An ice pack rested on his knee, but he was smiling.
His stat sheet lay beside him: 35 points, 14 rebounds. He glanced at it, then crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash.
"Stats don't matter," he told the reporters gathering around him. "What matters is that we won. We won at home. We brought the series back to square one."
A reporter asked him, "Shaq, what do you think of the Houston Rockets' performance in Game 2?"
O'Neal smiled, wearing that trademark, slightly smug grin. "They were tired. Did you see Barkley in the third quarter? He couldn't run anymore. His legs were shaking. I'm not surprised at all—34-year-old knees playing 70 minutes in two days? It'd be strange if he could still run."
His smile faded slightly, and his eyes turned serious.
"But I want to say one thing," he said, his voice lowering. "When we get serious, no one can compete with us. We lost Game 1 because we weren't serious. Before the