by Nancy Chase - March 23, 2008
(Disclaimer: I ♥ Allen Iverson. So if you’re one of those who can’t stand him, stop reading right now)
Looking down onto the court from the vantage point of up in the stands, you’re struck by how small he really is when you see him in person. Despite being a solid six feet in height, he’s nearly always dwarfed by teammates a half-foot taller or more. But don’t be deceived, Allen Iverson is a giant in the world of basketball. As an NBA player, he ranks third overall in points scored per game; only Michael Jordan and Wilt Chamberlain are ranked ahead of him.
Statistics aside, Allen Iverson is not without controversy. He’s a ball-hogger, he’s vainglorious, and he struggles continuously with the fame that comes hand in hand with such huge talent. “There’s no team in Iverson” is a catchphrase repeated more often than not regarding his ability to be a cohesive team player. He’s a little gangsta, the epitome of the scrappy kid from the ‘hood who made it to the top. The headband, the cornrows and all the tattoos only accentuate his bad-boy, hip-hop persona.
But Allen Iverson is no persona, he’s the real deal. For almost ten years he played to packed houses with the Philadelphia 76ers, thrilling fans with his electrifying style and that cross-over dribble of his, inspiring young boys everywhere with hoop dreams and fantasies of NBA futures. I know this, because both of my sons were chief among his worshippers, they were the ones who made me aware of him. In my family, we have at least six sets of outgrown Iverson No. 3 NBA jerseys – as soon as one became too small, it was immediately replaced with another.
Talent-wise, comparisons abound of Iverson to Michael Jordan, but they quickly become unfavorable when discussing a certain quality of personal grace, or the ability to harness that staggering talent. As much as Jordan was deeply attached to his father, Iverson also yearned for that same paternal connection, and he seemed to find it through sports. The child of a teenage mother and a father who deserted him when he was an infant, he excelled athletically and was discovered initially as an outstanding high school football player, regularly playing up to 5 positions on his team, including quarterback. But basketball was his true passion, and when he came under the guidance of the Georgetown coaches during his college ball career, the mentoring attempts began in earnest. Drafted as a first round pick to the NBA while he was only a college junior, he signed on and never looked back That father/son dynamic was most notable with Larry Brown, his coach for 7 seasons with the Sixers. A brilliant span of thrilling basketball years followed, climaxing with almost winning it all in 2001, but walking away just short of the Grand Prize.
Iverson remained Philadelphia’s favorite adopted son through subsequent coach fallouts, changes in management, and an ensuing couple of years that were so frustrating it appeared the only solution was for Iverson to move on, and he did just that, albeit reluctantly. For the past year, Philadelphia has been in a kind of mourning, missing their black sheep superstar terribly; Iverson was one of a kind, irreplaceable. In the meanwhile, quietly and without any fanfare - the Sixers used the time wisely. They’ve regrouped and reassembled and have managed to pull together a pretty impressive young team all over again.
Flash forward to March 19, 2008.
Allen Iverson came home to a sellout crowd in Philadelphia this past Wednesday night, his first time back since the bitter trade to the Denver Nuggets 15 months ago. He was greeted with a house-shaking, crowd-roaring standing ovation by the Philadelphia fans, an ovation so loud it seemed it would bring down the walls of the Wachovia Center. Visibly moved and blinking back tears, he approached the Sixers table and hugged his former coach Mo Cheeks, continuing down the bench and warmly embracing each of his former teammates, prompting the crowd to near hysteria levels. It was a touching and genuinely unforgettable moment in Philly sports history, and it brought out the best in Allen Iverson. At a post game press conference (Sixers won by 2 points) he was relatively unfazed by Denver’s loss (uncharacteristic for him), acknowledging the Sixers had been the better team that night. He was smiling, happy, and still on a complete high from what happened earlier, clearly overwhelmed by the outpouring of affection shown him. But there was a distinct difference this time; Allen Iverson was full of gratitude. Gone was the defensiveness, the assignation of blame, the entitlement. This was a different Allen Iverson – a grown up man accepting responsibility and showing appreciation and acknowledging that things have moved on.
Come back Allen, come back. I think I ♥ you even more now, than I did before.
Nancy Chase is a writer from Pennsylvania. She also pens the Overheard column as topazz.