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Clearly exhausted, certainly relieved, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar sat quietly in the home locker room of the Thomas & Mack Center. His 7-foot-2-inch frame was hunched over, his forearms resting just above the knees of his incredibly long legs, and his head was down, his eyes closed.

Almost a half-hour had passed since Abdul-Jabbar had finished his final interview with the swarm of media that had come to Las Vegas that night -- April 5, 1984 -- and he finally was alone, save for a towel boy unobtrusively going about his business after the rest of the Los Angeles Lakers had showered and were leaving the arena.

Maybe the moment had just hit him. Perhaps the significance was just sinking in.

But at that instant, Abdul-Jabbar appeared oddly vulnerable. Nothing like the man -- suddenly the myth -- who had just surpassed Wilt Chamberlain's vaunted NBA career scoring total of 31,419 points.

Still, I approached him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Abdul-Jabbar," I started nervously, "would you mind, um, signing this?"

I remember my hand trembled slightly as I extended to him a card, titled "Kareem's Record Announcement," that I had read early in the fourth quarter of the Lakers' 129-115 victory over the Utah Jazz. It was the announcement -- provided by Jazz media relations director Laura Herlovich and certified by the league office -- that, as the game's public address announcer, I was to read to the 18,389 fans in attendance at the moment Abdul-Jabbar surpassed the great Chamberlain for No. 1 on the all-time list.

Abdul-Jabbar, 11 days shy of turning age 37 at the time and 9 years older than me, opened his eyes and slowly turned up his head upon hearing my somewhat stammering request.

"I don't usually ask for au ... autographs," I continued, "but I was just wondering."

Understand, Abdul-Jabbar had developed a reputation as one of the NBA's most unapproachable players, someone who took basketball seriously but never really felt comfortable -- until well after his playing days -- with the acclaim that accompanied his greatness.

On the other hand, years of working in the media mandated that I must never ask for an autograph. But at this particular time I was on one of my brief career ventures of working "for" the media -- as the first public relations director for the then-Las Vegas Stars baseball team -- instead of "in" the media. I had been an accomplished PA announcer since my high school days, and with usual UNLV basketball "voice" Dick Calvert broadcasting professional soccer in Phoenix this particular night, I was asked to be on the arena mike.

"What is it?" I remember Abdul-Jabbar asking of the card as he extended his right hand to take it from me.

"I was the PA announcer tonight. It's what I read when you set the record," I replied.

Abdul-Jabbar took the card and read the first few words. Then he did something I didn't expect: He smiled.

Looking back up, he asked, "You gotta pen, kid?"

I reached into the left inside pocket of my sports coat and pulled out a black-ink, fine-point pen, which I handed to him.

He quickly signed "Abdul Jabbar" at the bottom of the card -- no hyphen, by the way -- and handed it back to me.

"I don't think it'll ever be worth anything," he said, still smiling. "But if it makes you happy ..."

I thanked him -- profusely, if memory serves correctly -- and quickly left the locker room.

Every once in a while, I look at that card, as well as a color picture that then-Review-Journal photographer Wayne Kodey gave to me of the soft, baseline sky hook that Abdul-Jabbar shot over Utah's Mark Eaton with about 10 minutes remaining in the game. That shot set the mark and set off a wild on-court celebration.

Abdul-Jabbar retired in 1989, and his 38,387 points remain No. 1 all-time. If the incredible Michael Jordan, who scored 32,292 points in 15 seasons, and the durable Karl Malone, who ranks second at 36,928 points over his lengthy 19 seasons, couldn't eclipse Abdul-Jabbar, there's a great chance that his mark will stand for some time -- perhaps forever.

Maybe Abdul-Jabbar was right, in a monetary sense, that his signed card won't ever be "worth anything."

But as I pull it out of its safekeeping this week to again look at it, the fact that he not only took the time to sign it but smile as he did so makes it personally invaluable.

Joe Hawk is the Review-Journal's sports editor. He can be reached at 387-2912 or jhawk@reviewjournal.com.