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Iverson has long been a person-of-interest for hoops fans who value players with a proper mix of unbelievable talent and eccentric personalities. Oh, and he also invented the modern NBA crossover that humiliated hundreds of aspiring basketball players. I will litter examples of thos
e occurrences throughout this post.
Gimme that shimmy one more time..To be honest, the retirement is essentially ceremonial. Iverson, who last played in an NBA game in 2010 and last played professionally in Turkey in 2011 has refused to rule out a return to the league until now. But the end of this era is a great opportunity to profile the career of a player who, for better or worse, shaped the league forever following the Michael Jordan era.
The Beginning: The Trial of Allen Iverson
Born in 1975, Iverson showed promise as a football and basketball star at Bethel High School (VA) where he won the AP High School Player of the Year award in both sports. At the age of 17, Iverson and a group of friends got in a brawl with a group of white teenagers at a Virginia bowling alley, where he was eventually charged with striking a woman in the head with a chair.
In the aftermath of this fight, Iverson and three other friends (also African-American) were the only participants arrested. In a sadly ironic twist, he was convicted as an adult on the felony charge of maiming a mob, originally a Virginia statute designed to stop racial lynchings. He was sentenced to a 15-year prison sentence, but after four months he was granted clemency.
ESPN Films and Bill Simmons detailed the case in the breakout 30-for-30 documentary, No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson. The documentary details many of the legal and racial issues of the trial that divided a city and it is a fantastic film for anyone who hasn't seen it. Watch it here.
Georgetown, a Second Chance:
Georgetown basketball legend Coach John Thompson gave Iverson a second chance at fulfilling his athletic prowess and it paid off immediately. In his first year, AI won the Big East Rookie of the Year award, the Big East Defensive Player of the Year Award, and led the Hoyas to the Sweet 16 of the NCAA tournament.
Just to make everyone feel old for a second, Iverson's future NBA teammate was also a Georgetown star, the unforgettable Dikembe Mutombo...
And just to make everyone feel happy for a second..
In his second (and final) collegiate year, Iverson won the Big East DPOY once again and led the Hoyas to the Elite 8, averaging three steals a game during his college career.
The 1996 NBA Draft:
In the 1996 NBA Draft, Iverson was selected first overall by the Philadelphia 76ers. "Listed" at 6 feet 0 inches, Iverson was the shortest first overall pick in league history, but that was hardly the first league tradition he broke (he also ruined a fair share of ankles).
A quick side note: the '96 Draft is easily one of my favorite drafts in NBA history, with so many memorable characters and personalities that began to shape some of my earliest basketball memories.
#4 Overall: Stephon Marbury drafted by the Milwaukee Bucks (traded to Minnesota) **More to be said about Mr. Marbury's career coming soon on BDL courtesy of Tom Williams.
#5 Overall: Ray Allen / Jesus Shuttlesworth drafted by the Minnesota Timberwolves (traded to Milwaukee) **Want to guess who won that trade? The Timberwolves always screw it up.
#13 Overall: Kobe Bean Bryant drafted by the Charlotte Hornets (traded to L.A.) The Lakers always get lucky *shaking my head*
#15 Overall: Steve Nash drafted by the Phoenix Suns. 2-time NBA MVP.
#17 Overall: Jermaine O'Neal drafted by the Portland Trail Blazers. Most known for this..
#20 Overall: Zydrunas Ilgauskas: Ilguaskas, who hasn't played since 2010, is notably the player that has received the most Lebron James assists out of any NBA player. A list that also ranks Drew Gooden at #3 (maybe lower after this past NBA season, but still is terribly depressing)
Barnstorming the NBA:
In his first NBA season, Iverson jumped out to a quick start, averaging 23.5 points per game, 7.5 assists per game, and 2.1 steals per game. As a result he was named the 1996 Rookie of the Year and made the NBA All-Rookie First Team. However, the 76ers finished the season with a 22-60 record, only a four game improvement from their 18-64 record a season prior.
However, his incredible dribbling ability combined with his quick shot release and his penchant for drawing fouls while driving to the lane helped him set a NBA rookie record originally set by the great Wilt Chamberlain in 1959-60, who still holds his own impressive records. (No, not this one...This one)
In his first NBA season, Iverson jumped out to a quick start, averaging 23.5 points per game, 7.5 assists per game, and 2.1 steals per game. As a result he was named the 1996 Rookie of the Year and made the NBA All-Rookie First Team. However, the 76ers finished the season with a 22-60 record, only a four game improvement from their 18-64 record a season prior.
However, his incredible dribbling ability combined with his quick shot release and his penchant for drawing fouls while driving to the lane helped him set a NBA rookie record originally set by the great Wilt Chamberlain in 1959-60, who still holds his own impressive records. (No, not this one...This one)
After the game, Iverson laughed, "The craziest thing about it is, I hit him with my best move, and he still almost blocked it, tat's what was so crazy about it. That just let's you know how great a defensive player he was."
In subsequent seasons, Iverson showed few signs of slowing down and in the 1998-1999 season he averaged 26.8 points and won his first Scoring Title while leading the Sixers to the playoffs for the first time in the AI era. The next season, he averaged 26.2 points, 4.8 assists, 4 rebounds, and 1.3 steals per game, earning him a spot on the Eastern Conference All Star Team for what would be the first of 11 straight selections.
2000-01, A Season to Remember:
The 2000-01 season churned out many of Iverson's finest moments. That season he led Philadelphia to a 56-26 record, the best in the Eastern Conference that season. Iverson averaged 31.1 points and 2.5 steals per game over the course of the season, leading the league in both. His campaign led him to be named a starter in the All-Star Game (where he won the game's MVP award) as well as the 2001 NBA Most Valuable Player where he earned 93 first-place votes out of a possible 124.
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| Flip, flip, Flip-a-delphia |
In the playoffs, Iverson led the Sixers to victories over the Indiana Pacers, Vince Carter's Toronto Raptors, and the Milwaukee Bucks to advance to the NBA finals against the defending champion Los Angeles Lakers. It was the first NBA finals for Philadelphia since their 1983 championship run, but facing the dominant duo of Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal would prove to be a tough challenge.
During game one of the Finals, Iverson scored 48 points and beat the Lakers 107-101. The craziest part of that? That game was the only playoff loss that the Lakers had that season en route to the championship. Over the next four games, Iverson averaged over 30 points per game but it was not enough as the Lakers took home the title with a 4-1 series victory. Many experts predicted a series sweep, and although the Sixers fell short of the title the 2001 season will forever be Iverson's most successful moment.
The Rest, Not So Much:
In the following seasons, Iverson and Coach Larry Brown continued to get enough out of a questionably talented team to make the playoffs, however the next three seasons saw the Sixers make a string of early playoff exits. By 2003, after a second round playoff loss to the Detroit Pistons, Brown left the 76ers (as he would many, many, other teams) and the Philadelphia title window seemed to be slammed shut.
Subsequent head coaches Randy Ayers and Chris Ford were unable to corral Iverson and to work out any success with the 76ers team. Iverson was at the center of a number of incidents including being suspended for missing practice and refusing to play when Ford tried to bring Iverson off of the bench. In 2004-2005, Philadelphia would have one more playoff season with Iverson and Coach Jim O'Brien as the team added Andre Iguodala and All-Star Chris Webber. However, the team would lose in the first round to the Larry Brown -led Detroit Pistons once the playoffs arrived.
In the 2006-07 season, Iverson demanded a trade out of Philadelphia and refused to play until his request was met. That next season he was traded to the Denver Nuggets where he was teamed with rising All-Star Carmelo Anthony. In 2007, Iverson argued with referee Steve Javie and was subsequently fined $25,000 by the NBA. Over the following seasons, Iverson spent time with the Pistons, the Memphis Grizzlies, and even made a brief half-season comeback to the 76ers in 2009, only to be sidelined by injuries and personal problems.
Between 2005 and 2010, Iverson was cited in numerous intoxicated altercations at nightclubs and casinos, culminating with reports that he was "broke" in 2010. During this time, he also faced nasty divorce proceedings with his wife of eight years Tawanna.
Unforgettable Moments, No Matter How Hard We Might Try:
--The Style/Accessories:
This is not going out on a limb at all. No athlete in modern history changed the way players and fans of the sport dressed, carried themselves, and accessorized their game day wardrobe. It was Iverson who almost singlehandedly made tattoos, cornrows, and the arm sleeve essential parts of every NBA player's style. Hell, everyone wanted the arm sleeve and you can still see everyone from NBA superstars to rec-league scrubs to prep school white kids wearing it on the court today.
He first hit the scene with the greatest Slam Magazine cover of all time. The 'fro, the chains, the baggy jersey. Iverson was a figure who perfectly resonated with late 90's culture and the post-Jordan era. Yet, as fondly as I and many others remember those days, there were certainly other segments of the population who were threatened by an individual as expressive as Iverson, whether it was his cornrows, body ink, or open affiliation with the hip-hop culture of the 90's.
--The Questions:Although Michael Jordan has easily had the most worldwide and lasting success of with his Air Jordan shoe line, no player entered the league with a cooler shoe concept off-the-bat than AI. In 1996, during Iverson's first game in the NBA, he debuted The Question, a Reebok shoe design that resembled the Air Jordan XI. After his stellar rookie campaign, he then debuted The Answer in his sophomore season, a shoe that first featured his signature I3 logo and was the start of Reebok's most popular basketball shoe line. It was a genius marketing success and I remember fearing any opponent in grade school basketball who rocked the I3's, just because of the shoes.
Few commercials completely sum up a player's style and cultural impact better than the A6 commercial that Iverson did with rapper Jadakiss. Check it out, man, the 90's were special.
--The Dress Code:In 2005, NBA Commissioner David Stern instituted a new mandatory dress code for players to wear while entering/leaving the stadium and while on the sidelines or bench. It was the first mandatory dress code to be instituted by any major American sport and it specifically prohibited clothes and accessories often most associated with hip-hop/African-American culture including flat bill hats, do-rags, t-shirts, large jewelry, and Timberland-style shoes.
The dress code was essentially a reaction to a combination of the new wave of hip-hop style popularized mainly by Iverson and the fallout of the 2004 Pacers-Pistons brawl. Iverson and other players openly voiced their objections, claiming that such a rule had serious racial undertones. Iverson was quoted as saying, "The dress code is not who I am and doesn't allow me to express myself." In an interesting twist, the new dress code has significantly effected the new wave of NBA "style" that has inspired athletes to find league-acceptable ways to add flair to their pre-and-post game wardrobes, most notably with Dwyane Wade and Russell Westbrook.
--The Rap album that never happened : During the 2000 NBA offseason, Iverson recorded a rap song entitled "40 Bars" that was initially planned to be the start of his first commercial album, entitled Misunderstood that he planned to release under the alias Jewelz. The album was never completed, however, after many people complained about the single's derogatory remarks about homosexuality and other urban themes. However, the end of Jewelz's rap career did not stop Iverson from staying at the forefront of hip-hop culture.--The Step:
As Lue fell to the ground, Iverson took a defiant step over the guard on his way to the other end of the court. It was one of those moments that if it was around today, it would break Twitter. Actually, there were tons of moments like that in Iverson's career, however "the step" became synonymous with both the careers of Iverson and Lue.
On May 7, 2002, Iverson delivered one of the all-time great interviews when asked about his practice habits with the 76ers. What proceeds below is a hilarious scene in which AI repeats the word "practice" at least twenty times. Sadly, the video, along with his other late-career troubles still remains at the forefront of his public perception and has probably been overblown. Still, the press conference shows just how unafraid AI was of being himself to the media.
A Hall of Fame Career?
In wake of his retirement, the typical talking heads in the media have been debating whether Iverson deserves enshrinement in the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Massachusetts. Some claim that he falls short, citing his off-the court troubles, abysmal field-goal percentage, and his lack of a championship ring. Others point to his on the court antics and his public feuds with league officials including David Stern.
To be fair, in the wake of sabermetrics and an increased focus on numbers, it is notable to point out that in his 2001 MVP season, he shot only .420 from the field and .320 from the 3-point arc. These numbers do seem inefficient considering the amazing production of current players like Lebron James and Kevin Durant, however, what cannot be quantified is how his mediocre supporting cast and his diminutive size affected the number of shots he needed to take.However, one of my favorite NBA factoids is this: There has never been an NBA season MVP who has not entered (or will not) the Hall of Fame. It's just never happened. In a league so talented, the MVP of the NBA is clearly the most significant of the individual awards in all of sports. As you will see below, there were few players who were as talented and as polarizing as Allen Iverson. He was an amazing athlete and an incredibly unique character and there is no way that he should be denied entry to Springfield. Take a look at his career if you'd like.
Bill Simmons said in best in his AMAZING Book of Basketball with the following passage on Iverson:
“As the years and decades pass, both Iverson and no. 21 on the Pyramid will be picked apart by an army of statisticians looking for various ways to undermine their careers. And that’s fine. Just know that Iverson passed the Season Ticket Test every year this decade (starting with his ’01 MVP season): when season tickets arrive in the mail, the recipient invariably checks the schedule, marks certain can’t-miss games and writes those dates down on a calendar. The importance of those games is measured by rivalries, superstars, incoming rookies and the “I need to see that guy” factor. That’s it. From 1997 to 2007, Iverson always made my list. Always. So I don’t give a crap about Iverson’s win shares, his ranking among top-fifty scorers with the lowest shooting percentage or whatever. Every post-Y2K ticket to an Iverson game guaranteed a professional, first-class performance (no different from reservations at a particularly good restaurant or hotel), and for whatever reason, he was always more breathtaking in person. He’s listed at six feet but couldn’t be taller than five-foot-ten, so every time he attacked the basket, it was like watching an undersized running back ram into the line of scrimmage for five yards a pop (think Emmitt Smith). He took implausible angles on his drives (angles that couldn’t be seen as they unfolded, even if you’d been watching him for ten years) and drained an obscene number of layups and floaters in traffic. He had a knack for going 9-for-24 but somehow making the two biggest shots of the game. And he played with an eff-you intensity that only KG and Kobe matched (although MJ remains the king of this category). For years and years, the most intimidating player in the league wasn’t taller than Rebecca Romijn. I always thought it was interesting that Iverson averaged 28 minutes of playing time in his eight All-Star Games and played crunch time in every close one; even his temporary coaches didn’t want to risk pissing him off.
Iverson’s career personifies how the media can negatively sway everyone’s perception of a particular athlete. There was a generational twinge to the anti-Iverson sentiment, fueled by media folks in their forties, fifties and sixties who couldn’t understand him and didn’t seem interested in trying. Nearly all of them played up his infamous aversion to practice (overrated over the years) and atypical appearance (the cornrows/tattoos combination) over describing the incredible thrill of watching him play in person. They weren’t interested in figuring out how an alleged coach-killer who allegedly monopolized the ball, allegedly hated to practice and allegedly couldn’t sublimate his game to make his teammates better doubled as one of the most revered players by his peers. They glossed over the fact that he was saddled with an incompetent front office, a subpar supporting cast and a revolving door of coaches in Philly. They didn’t care that he was one of the most influential African American athletes ever, a trendsetter who shoved the NBA into the hip-hop era (whether the league was ready or not) and resonated with blacks in a way that even Jordan couldn’t duplicate. They weren’t so interested in one of the most fascinating, complex athletes of my lifetime: a legendary partier and devoted family man; a loyal teammate who shot too much; a featherweight who carried himself like a heavyweight; an intimidating competitor who was always the smallest guy on the court; an ex-con with a shady entourage who also ranked among the most intuitive, self-aware, articulate superstars in any sport. If I could pick any modern athlete to spend a week with in his prime for a magazine feature, I would pick Allen Iverson. In a heartbeat.
And yeah, his field goal percentage wasn’t that good and he took too many shots. Whatever. Fifty years from now, I hope people realize that Iverson had better balance than everyone else, that he was faster and more coordinated than everyone else, that he took a superhuman pounding and kept getting up, that he was one of the all-time athletic superfreaks. We already know that he was the best high school football player in Virginia history, but he also would have been a world-class soccer player, boxer or center fielder, someone who could have picked his sport in track and competed for an Olympic spot, and while we’re here, I can’t fathom how much ground he could have covered on a tennis court. Iverson wrecked his body on and off the court and somehow kept his fastball, which shouldn’t be counted as an achievement but remains amazing nonetheless. And he deserves loads of credit for dragging a mediocre Sixers team to the ’01 Finals when so many other scoring machines had failed before him. Unlike Gervin, McAdoo and Dominique, Iverson played with a swagger that pushed a decent team to a whole other level. He believed they could win, he killed himself to that end, and everyone else eventually followed. Watching Game 7 of the Bullets-Spurs series from ’79 and Game 7 of the Bucks-Sixers from ’01, the biggest difference between Gervin and Iverson—two spectacular offensive players—was the way they carried themselves. Gervin never gave the sense that the game was life or death to him, whereas Iverson went into foxhole mode, with his ferocity lifting his teammates and energizing the crowd.
That ferocity separated Iverson from everyone else after Jordan retired; for most of his twenties, he was the Association’s single most menacing player. He had a darker edge that belonged to nobody else, a switch that instantly transformed him into a character from The Wire. I remember attending a Boston-Philly game when Iverson was whistled for a technical, yelped in disbelief, then followed the referee toward the scorer’s table before finally screaming “Fuck you!” at the top of his lungs. The official whirled around and pulled his whistle toward his mouth for a second technical. They were maybe 25 feet away from me, so I could see everything up close. And I swear on my daughter’s life, the following moment happened: As the ref started to blow the whistle, Iverson’s eyes widened and he moved angrily toward him, almost like someone getting written up for a parking ticket who decides it would be easier just to punch out the meter maid. For a split second, there was real violence in the air. The rattled official lowered his whistle and never called the second technical. By sheer force of personality, Iverson kept himself in the game.
Look, I’m not condoning what happened. It was a frightening moment. I specifically remember thinking, “I am frightened.” But I haven’t seen a basketball player bully a referee like that before or since; it was like playing an intramural hoops game against the football team and watching the biggest offensive lineman intimidate a 130-pound freshman ref. And that goes back to the seeing-him-in-person thing. At his peak, Iverson played with a compelling, hostile, bloodthirsty energy that nobody else had. He was relentless in every sense of the word, a warrior, an alpha dog, a tornado. He was so quick and coordinated that it genuinely defies description. He was enough of a lunatic that officials occasionally cowered in his presence. And none of this makes total sense unless you watched him live. Could you win a title if Iverson was your best player and you didn’t have a franchise big man? Of course not. Could you win a title with Iverson as the second-best player and crunch-time scorer? Yeah, possibly. Would you pay to see him in his prime? In the words of Mr. Big, absah-fuckin’-lutely. I will remember him.”
So will I.
Oh yeah, and Tyronn Lue.
Adios Allen, it was a lot of fun.
Our team looks sharp in these jerseys and the matching shorts. This was such a great purchase.
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