ON THIS DAY IN 2010: Kobe Bryant Clinches Fifth NBA Title with Lakers and Reminds the World — “I’ve Got One More Than Shaq” in Iconic Post-Finals Moment

Kobe Bryant stood in the spotlight on June 17, 2010, soaking in the glory of a hard-fought victory that earned him his fifth NBA championship. The Los Angeles Lakers had just defeated the Boston Celtics in Game 7 of the NBA Finals, 83–79, a gritty and emotional battle that pushed both teams to their limits. Confetti rained down inside Staples Center as Lakers fans erupted, but amidst the euphoria, Bryant’s mind was locked on more than just the moment. He was thinking about legacy. About battles fought. About names attached to his own. About one in particular—Shaquille O’Neal.

In the postgame interview, Bryant couldn’t resist the smirk when he delivered a now-legendary quote: “I just got one more than Shaq. So you can take that to the bank.” In those ten words, a decade-long storyline came full circle. The 2010 NBA Finals weren’t just about revenge against Boston, who had humiliated the Lakers in 2008. They were about legacy and rivalry. Not just team rivalry, but a personal, career-defining rivalry between two of the game’s greatest icons: Kobe and Shaq.

The Shaq-Kobe dynamic was one of the most compelling storylines in modern sports. From 2000 to 2002, the duo was unstoppable, leading the Lakers to a three-peat of NBA titles. But success bred tension. Shaq’s dominant physicality and larger-than-life personality clashed with Kobe’s obsession with preparation, discipline, and legacy. Despite their shared success, they couldn’t coexist. The locker room strained under their competitive friction until, in 2004, Shaq was traded to the Miami Heat. Kobe stayed in Los Angeles, determined to build a legacy of his own.

That trade marked a turning point in both careers. Shaq quickly won another championship in Miami in 2006, alongside Dwyane Wade. At the time, many whispered that Shaq had proven his worth and that Kobe, though brilliant, needed the big man to reach the top. Kobe heard those whispers. He carried the burden of that narrative through the darkest years of the Lakers’ rebuilding phase, from 2005 through 2007, when the team struggled in the postseason and failed to find a second star.

But Bryant never wavered. His commitment to greatness didn’t depend on headlines or popularity. It was rooted in the early-morning workouts, the relentless attention to detail, and the sacrifices that defined his career. When the Lakers traded for Pau Gasol in 2008, the tides began to turn. The Lakers returned to the Finals that same year, only to be demolished by the Celtics in six games. That defeat haunted Kobe. It gave him a new target—not just a redemption arc against Boston, but another title to inch closer to that mythical “six” and, in the process, to prove he could win without Shaq.

The 2009 Finals saw the Lakers overpower the Orlando Magic, with Kobe winning his fourth title and his first Finals MVP. It silenced some critics, but the hunger remained. The 2010 season was all about getting back to the mountaintop. The Lakers were now his team in every sense. The triangle offense, once mastered by the Shaq-led units, had become Kobe’s domain. He had molded the squad into a reflection of his personality—tough, intelligent, relentless.

When the 2010 NBA Finals pitted the Lakers against the Celtics once again, it was more than just a rematch. It was a career referendum. The Celtics had beaten the Lakers in 2008 with superior physicality and mental toughness. Kobe knew what was at stake: beat the Celtics, win a fifth ring, and pass Shaq in the championship count.

The series was brutal. Games were physical, defensive slugfests, with tempers flaring and emotions running high. Game 7, in particular, was a battle of attrition. Bryant shot poorly (6-for-24 from the field), but his impact was undeniable. He grabbed 15 rebounds, attacked the paint, drew fouls, and played fierce defense. In the final minutes, with everything on the line, he trusted his teammates—Gasol, Ron Artest, and Derek Fisher—to help seal the win.

As the final buzzer sounded, Bryant raised his arms in triumph, finally toppling the Celtics and capturing his fifth ring. For a player who had always craved respect as much as victory, this was the crowning achievement. When he sat down for the postgame interview, the weight of everything he’d endured—on and off the court—culminated in that unforgettable dig: “I just got one more than Shaq.”

The moment encapsulated everything that made Kobe unique. It was petty, competitive, and perfectly Kobe. He wasn’t just keeping score on the court; he was keeping score in the annals of history. His comment wasn’t malicious—it was honest. The decades-long debate over who was more vital to the Lakers’ early 2000s dynasty had just received a new chapter. With that fifth ring, Kobe could say, unequivocally, that he had achieved greatness both with and without his former running mate.

The quote resonated far beyond the locker room. Fans, analysts, and former players dissected its meaning for days. Shaq, to his credit, offered congratulations but also couldn’t help but respond with a bit of humor, tweeting that Kobe had done what he was supposed to do and that he was happy for him. The long-standing rivalry had matured into something more like mutual respect, but the edge never fully disappeared. That edge was what fueled both men, what pushed them to reach the rarefied air of NBA legends.

Bryant’s fifth title didn’t just add to his jewelry collection; it changed the conversation around his legacy. No longer was he the young sidekick to Shaq’s dominance. He was now a five-time champion, two-time Finals MVP, and the unquestioned leader of back-to-back championship teams. That fifth title became the exclamation point on a career that had evolved from potential to perfection.

The 2010 championship also marked the last time Bryant would reach the Finals. The following seasons saw the Lakers decline due to injuries, age, and roster mismanagement. Bryant himself would suffer a devastating Achilles injury in 2013, and though he returned to play for a few more seasons, he was never quite the same. But by then, the mission had already been accomplished. He had proven what he needed to prove.

Looking back on that night in 2010, it’s easy to see why it remains such a defining moment. It wasn’t just about beating the Celtics or hoisting the trophy. It was about the journey, the scars, the transformation from prodigy to leader, from sidekick to alpha. Kobe’s postgame jab at Shaq wasn’t just a line—it was a line drawn in the sand, a symbolic declaration that he had, at long last, emerged from the shadow of his former teammate.

Today, fans still talk about that Game 7. About the missed shots, the hustle plays, and the emotion on Kobe’s face. They remember Artest’s three-pointer, Gasol’s clutch rebounds, and Phil Jackson’s calm demeanor as he collected his eleventh ring. But most of all, they remember Kobe—hoarse from yelling, eyes blazing with intensity, gripping the Larry O’Brien trophy like it was a long-lost heirloom. In a career filled with unforgettable moments, this one stood out. It was personal. It was historic. And it was vintage Kobe.

As time passes and the legends of the game are measured not just by stats but by stories, the night of June 17, 2010, continues to loom large. That single quote—”I just got one more than Shaq”—has become more than just a jab. It’s a timestamp in basketball history, a reminder that the road to greatness is paved not only with victories but with the fuel of old rivalries, internal fire, and an unrelenting will to be the best.

Kobe Bryant was always chasing something—respect, perfection, immortality. That night, for a brief moment, he caught all three. And in true Mamba fashion, he made sure the world knew it.