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Block UserThat single thought has comforted me for the better part of the past decade. Until recently, I've been pretty confident that Iverson would retire in a Philadelphia 76ers uniform. Yes, he has a tendency to dominate the basketball in half-court sets - stifling the development of the players around him. Yes, his game doesn't mesh well with other stars - the Sixers have yet to find a player who complements his abilities. And yes, he isn't the most diligent player when it comes to practice. But Allen Iverson is one of the greatest players to have ever stepped onto a basketball court, and that alone should give the Sixers' front office pause when considering any potential deals.
And who could blame them? A previous regime made a similar mistake fourteen years ago, sending Charles Barkley to the Phoenix Suns for three players and a bag of magic beans. The only giant in that trade was Barkley, who led the Suns to the 1993 NBA Finals on the strength of his MVP season. The Sixers languished in mediocrity for several years following the deal until the arrival of an oft-misunderstood point guard from Georgetown University.
Ever since he was selected with the #1 overall pick in the 1996 NBA Draft, Iverson - who rolled into town with a low-cut fade, an infectious smile and a sick handle - has electrified basketball fans with his uncanny ability to get the rack, and his unquestioned desire to win.
Through the years, he's not only crossed over opponents on the court, but has done the same away from the game as well. Allen Iverson's fan base crosses all racial, ethnic and economic boundaries - a level of adoration reached by very few in the world of sports. The Answer has almost singularly made tattoos and do-rags fashionable while also making it OK for people in white collar professions to wear cornrows to work. Impressive feats, to say the least.
Fear of reprising the Barkley trade aside, one would think that the Sixers would be wary of trading AI for the simple fact that he remains a tremendous draw to this day. Shortly after Philadelphia drafted Jerry Stackhouse out of North Carolina in 1995, the soon-to-be completed Corestates Center (now known as the Wachovia Center), was referred to as "The House That Stack Built." But when Iverson arrived the following season, it would soon become "The House That AI Filled." The team's attendance figures increased every season from 1996-97 to 2001-02, and Iverson's jersey sales have consistently been at or near the top of the league's hottest sellers.
Ultimately, the Philadelphia 76ers are a business, and it doesn't take a person with an MBA to know that most organizations would be hesitant at the idea of shedding themselves of their leading source of revenue. Or, at least they should be.
My belief that AI would always remain a Sixer was challenged in 2000 when he was nearly the focal point of a four-team deal that would have resulted in Grant Hill coming to Philadelphia. The only thing that prevented the trade from going through was Matt Geiger's refusal to waive his 15 percent trade kicker. The near-trade led to a groundswell of support for Iverson, and disdain for the power brokers that had almost sent him away. Local sports talk radio shows were flooded with calls from Sixers' fans supporting their beloved 6-foot-nothin', 160-nothin' pound point guard. Coincidentally, the Sixers would make a magical run to the NBA Finals the following season, and for a while, everything was good. In those days, it was always sunny in Philadelphia.
But while the era of good feeling would soon come to an end - due in no small part to the love-hate relationship between Iverson and coach Larry Brown, culminating in the surreal "we talkin' 'bout practice" press conference - it was clear to everyone that despite his flaws, Allen Iverson was (and still is) the type of player that you build around. Everyone, it seems, except the people who actually make the decisions on matters such as these.
As such, my faith is being tested once again.
What makes it worse is that the Sixers haven't even bothered to make any attempts to disguise their plans. Being the team's franchise player for the past 10 years, Iverson deserves a far better fate than having to hear his name tossed around in trade rumors every summer.
I don't know - maybe I'm biased. Iverson is arguably the most talented Philadelphia athlete I've ever witnessed in his prime. I still get excited each time AI breaks down a defender at the top of the key. And to this day, I get emotional whenever I see the footage of Iverson - with the Lakers' Tyronn Lue draped over him - hitting that fall-away jumper in Game 1 of the 2001 NBA Finals, and emphatically stepping over the fallen Lue, putting an exclamation point on the Sixers' impending victory.
There's no maybe about it - I am biased. A stack of AI-related newspaper clippings occupies a prominent space in my closet. One photo shows former Sixers' president Pat Croce pinching the cheeks of his young superstar shortly after he was introduced to the local media. Another image is of the Sixers' point guard angrily loosening his tie after leaving court in 1997 following his hearing on charges of gun and marijuana possesion. And of course, there's the mug shot of a haggard Iverson upon turning himself in after allegedly throwing his wife out of the house.
Allen Iverson isn't perfect. None of us are. But much like Randall Cunningham, Eric Lindros and Charles Barkley before him, he has provided me with years of enjoyment, even though he's never been able to lead his team to the promised land. So while I'll be upset if he goes, I do understand that it's the nature of the business.
At this point, I almost don't care if the Sixers trade Iverson. Whether or not AI is playing in Philadelphia next season, Sixers' GM Billy King has managed the cap so poorly that the team can't get markedly better unless they unload some of their bad contracts. Chris Webber is on the books for more than $43 million over the next two years. Don't let his 20 and 10 averages from last season fool you - $43 million is an extraordinary amount of money to pay someone who - despite being 6'10" - not only shoots 43% from the floor, but who is also one of the slowest defenders in the league.
The biggest cap problem on the team - in more ways than one - is 6'11" center Samuel Dalembert. For the moment, let's ignore the fact that Dalembert has a reputation for not being receptive to instructions of his coaches. Let's merely look at his statistics and see that Billy King has committed to giving a player who has averaged approximately 8 points and 8 rebounds for each of the past three seasons $50 million over the next five years.
No... Allen Iverson isn't the problem. If anything, he's The Answer.
The Sixers are going to trade Allen Iverson.
In the press conference announcing the deal, someone will mention the incident from last season when he and Webber showed up late for Fan Appreciation Night - a game in which neither was expected to play. A few days later, an "unnamed source" will leak word to the media that Iverson's practice habits are just as bad now as they were under the Larry Brown regime. They'd even bring up the infamous bowling alley incident if they could. All of that is to say that the Sixers will attempt to spin it in a way to convince their fans that it was an even trade. And all of us will know that the deal is the most one-sided transaction since Manhattan was sold to the Dutch in 1626 for a bag full of trinkets.
But I've prepared myself for that moment. As a life-long Philadelphia sports fan, I've steeled myself against feelings of disappointment due to several lifetimes worth of heartaches, near misses and unfortunate endings. Quite frankly, the inevitable Iverson trade will just be another entry to add to the ledger. And when the news comes across on the wire, I'll smile... because I'll know that he's in a better place.