Shaquille O'Neal video calls his neighbors to check up on them amid stay-at-home-orders

Shaquille O’Neal video calls his neighbors to check up on them amid stay-at-home-orders

“The Giant Next Door: How Shaquille O’Neal Lifted an Entire Neighborhood With a Single Video Call”

In the spring of 2020, as the world trembled under the weight of the COVID-19 pandemic and California entered an unprecedented stay-at-home order, a sense of loneliness settled across neighborhoods like fog. People stayed indoors, afraid. Streets were empty, laughter muffled behind closed doors. But in one quiet neighborhood in Southern California, the echo of laughter broke through the stillness — thanks to a 7’1” gentle giant named Shaquille O’Neal.

Shaq, a name synonymous with basketball glory, was about to remind the world that true greatness wasn’t just built in arenas — it could also be forged on the front porch of neighborly kindness.

It started on a Tuesday morning.

Linda Martinez, a retired librarian in her 70s, was sitting in her living room with a crossword puzzle she could hardly focus on. Her phone buzzed — a video call from an unknown number. Cautiously, she answered. And there he was, smiling ear to ear with that unmistakable grin: Shaquille O’Neal.

“Hey Ms. Linda,” he said, waving into the camera. “It’s your friendly neighborhood Shaq-man. Just checkin’ in.”

She blinked, speechless. Then she laughed, her first real laugh in weeks. “Shaquille? Is that really you?”

“You know it,” he chuckled. “Wanted to make sure you’re holding up all right. And to tell you to stop partying at night and playing bingo too loud. The whole block hears you.”

They both burst out laughing.

Shaq’s unexpected call was part of a bigger effort he quietly launched: The Neighbor Check-In Project. After hearing Governor Gavin Newsom urge Californians to reach out to their communities during the lockdown, Shaquille didn’t just donate money or post on social media. He pulled out his phone and started calling — personally.

His first call was to Linda, then to George, the Vietnam vet across the street who lived alone. Then to Rebecca and Todd, a young couple expecting their first child. And even to the neighborhood’s honorary prankster, Mr. Collins, who was notorious for putting flamingos in people’s yards during Halloween.

Each call carried the same message:

“This is the neighbor checking on neighbor team effort. Making sure you’re OK. And if you need anything, knock on the door—or just FaceTime me.”

But these weren’t just check-ins. Shaq turned each conversation into a moment of genuine connection.

To George, he listened patiently as the old man recounted war stories he hadn’t told in years. To Rebecca, he offered words of encouragement and a promise: “If that baby needs a middle name, I suggest Shaquita.” To Todd, who had just been laid off, he offered something more — a contact at a logistics company that was still hiring. “You didn’t hear it from me,” Shaq winked. “But they could use a good man like you.”

By the end of the week, word had spread. People who had never interacted with each other began waving from windows. Teenagers started dropping off grocery bags at elderly neighbors’ doorsteps. Someone even put up a handmade sign on their lawn:
“Be like Shaq. Call someone. Love someone.”

But Shaquille wasn’t done.

“Check on Charles Barkley too!” one neighbor joked during a video call.

“I will,” Shaq laughed. “But only if he promises to finally admit I’m better looking.”

His jokes lightened the fear. His presence reminded everyone that even in a crisis, humanity could be the most powerful thing of all.

What the neighborhood didn’t know was that Shaq’s motivation went deeper.

In a later interview, he shared:

“When I was growing up, my mom always said, ‘Treat the people next door like family, ’cause you might need them one day.’ That stuck with me. You can be rich, famous, tall… doesn’t matter. You still need people.”

The pandemic, in many ways, humbled everyone. And Shaq, who had seen the world from courtside seats and championship stages, found himself rediscovering something profound: the beauty of simple human care.

Michelle, a local news reporter, caught wind of the story and aired a short segment:

“THE LAKERS LEGEND IS SHOWING US ALL HOW IT’S DONE.
CHECKING IN ON HIS SURPRISED NEIGHBORS DURING THESE UNCERTAIN TIMES.”

The clip of Shaq telling Linda to stop partying at night went viral. Social media exploded with admiration.

“Shaq is the real MVP,” one tweet read.
“This is what leadership looks like,” said another.
Even Governor Newsom shared the story, writing, “Thanks for stepping up, @SHAQ. California sees you.”

But for Shaquille, it wasn’t about praise.

One day, a boy named Caleb, who lived four houses down, left a hand-drawn card on Shaq’s doorstep. It read:

“Dear Mr. O’Neal, thank you for making my mom smile again. She was really sad before you called. You are the biggest man I know. Not because you’re tall. But because you care. Love, Caleb.”

Shaq kept that card.

He later admitted that was the moment he realized the true weight of what he was doing. “I thought I was just checking in on people. But I was giving hope without knowing it.”

Weeks passed. California remained under lockdown, but the neighborhood changed. People looked out for one another. Shaq started hosting Neighborhood Zoom Bingo Nights, complete with prizes like Lakers memorabilia and signed sneakers. He even had Charles Barkley crash one of the sessions to everyone’s delight.

For Easter, he sent chocolate baskets to every house. For Mother’s Day, flowers. For Memorial Day, he hosted a virtual tribute to George, the veteran, and asked others to share stories of loved ones.

He wasn’t just in the community — he was the heart of it.

By the time restrictions eased, the neighborhood felt tighter than ever. And when Shaq walked down the street, it wasn’t “Shaquille O’Neal, the superstar.” It was “Shaq, our neighbor.”

In a world of social distancing, he brought people closer than ever before.

When asked later in an interview what he learned during that time, Shaquille said:

“You don’t need a cape to be a hero. Sometimes all it takes is a phone, a smile, and a couple of jokes. That’s it. Just show up for people. That’s the magic.”

And magic it was.

From his living room, with nothing more than a video call and a warm heart, Shaquille O’Neal didn’t just check on his neighbors — he lifted an entire community out of fear and into hope.

Be like Shaq.
Call someone.
Love someone.
And always — check on your neighbor.