Malone's big night

Karl Malone being Karl Malone, the big fella was basking in yet another spotlight Thursday at the Delta Center.

The luncheon for friends, coaches and dignitaries. The press conference. The street renaming. The public unveiling of his 18-foot likeness next to the John Stockton statue on the Delta Center plaza, the retiring of his jersey at halftime. Malone had plenty to soak up.

But you know what the Louisiana man—who acknowledged at the statue unveiling that he has finally learned after 20 years that Utah is a state, not a city — was looking forward to the most?

"After all of this is done," said the NBA's No. 2 all-time scorer, "I'd like to take my little walk by it myself and kind of look at it.

"You know, the jersey is awesome, the retirement is awesome, but to me, my kids' kids' kids can walk by and say, 'That was my great, great grandfather right there. That was my great, great grandpa. That was my grandpa. Or that's my dad.'

"And, h---, I can say, 'That's me,' " said Malone, who picked the bronze likeness of him heading for a dunk that now stands next to the statue of John Stockton passing him the ball, near the corner of what is now John Stockton Drive (300 West) and Karl Malone Drive (100 South) as the strongest of the honors bestowed upon him Thursday.

"So after all of it settle down, I want to go sit myself and have my little quiet time with the statue before I leave. I really do." Malone said. "I want to kind of go there and just sit there and just look at it."

Heck, he might even say something to it while he's out there on the plaza by himself.

"I can talk to it, as long as it don't answer. That's when I'm going crazy," Malone said, laughing at the thought.

He was going to tell his alter ego, "Did you expect all this?"

That big ol' statue is something Malone could enjoy, but it's also something the average citizen, who may have no more money than Malone had growing up in Summerfield, La., can see for nothing.

"The jersey, you have to come inside the arena for some event" to see, Malone noted. "But the statue is like, it's free.

"Whatever you decided to do with it," Malone said, knowing full well after 18 years of taking many of the Jazz's troubles on his big shoulders as well as the accolades that there will be some who may want to make their own mark on the statue.

"If you decide to put a mustache on it, hell, whatever you do, that's you. H---, it ain't mine. The city got to keep that up.

"But to me, I'm going to enjoy it before somebody do something to it, today," said the Mailman, who still had the rest of the night's activities to get through before he could spend a little private time with himself.