No Longer The Answer
It wasn’t long ago that Allen Iverson was the most feared offensive player in the NBA.
Now he’s the league’s most the feared free agent.
And not in a good way.
The 10-time All-Star and one-time MVP would be a lethal weapon for a second unit. With his ability to fill in at either guard spot, Iverson could add tremendous depth to any of the league’s top tier teams. And yet, somehow, in the midst of a frenzied arms race, none of the contenders seem to want him.
Why not? Because the only role he could encapsulate perfectly is the one role he’s refused to accept; Iverson simply won’t come off the bench.
Iverson has the fifth highest scoring average in NBA history by players who have at least 10,000 points. To place his ranking in proper perspective, consider that seven of the top ten are in the Hall of Fame and the others are Kobe Bryant and LeBron James. After Iverson, the next highest ranking player under 6-foot-2 is Isiah Thomas. He’s 65th on the list.
However, Iverson will never get another massive payday and he’ll never be a champion in the NBA. The door slammed on both of those opportunities in the span of about five seconds back in April.
As a member of the Pistons, A.I. was thrust into the role of back-up by then-coach Michael Curry. His production plummeted and the energy he was famous for slithered out of his body as though he had undergone an exorcism.
The Answer wasn’t ready to be the answer for Detroit. And, while muddling through a stretch off the bench, Iverson uttered a handful of words that would later cost him millions of dollars:
“I’d rather retire before I do this again. I can’t be effective playing this way.”
It didn’t matter that Iverson was suffering from back pain. It didn’t matter that his frustrations were compounded because the man he was traded for, Chauncey Billups, was leading a resurrection in Denver. All that mattered was that Iverson was unwilling to accept his fate. He pouted. He whined. He threatened. And days later, after acting about 30 years younger than his age, he quit. Officially, he was out for the remainder of the season with a sore back. But, unofficially, he folded up his pride, packed up his ego, and went home.
In all, he started 50 games for the Pistons and came off the bench for just four. But, in his mind, they were four too many.
It made sense. Throughout Iverson’s career, he played basketball on his terms – however he wanted, as much as he wanted.
Legendary Georgetown coach John Thompson completely revamped his offensive strategy to take advantage of Iverson’s unique skills. Instead of playing the inside-out style so effective throughout Thompson’s tenure, the Hoyas essentially inbounded the ball to Iverson and then cleared out.
As a rookie in the NBA, Iverson had free reign under Philadelphia coach Johnny Davis, whose only job was to appease the first overall pick. The job lasted just one year as Larry Brown took over in Iverson’s second season.
Brown and Iverson butted heads early on, but, with a constant lack of other offensive weapons on the roster, Brown would soon find the need to pacify his star pupil as well. Once again, a coach allowed Iverson to run the show. After the Sixers reached the NBA Finals in 2001, Iverson was deified in the City of Brotherly Love. There was no stopping his shoot-first mentality or his inability to inspire teammates. There was no one who wanted to do anything about it and it wouldn’t have made a difference if they did.
Iverson accomplished all that he accomplished because of his ongoing refusal to accept what his doubters had to say. Now that same denial has deteriorated his value. The best he can hope for is a solid contract from a team wanting nothing more than to sell tickets.
After the tumultuous events of last season, Iverson’s place in history has tumbled. The exuberance he was always revered for is almost forgotten and his remarkable stats are now mentioned alongside the nearly predictable dip in numbers belonging to his then-teammates.
A starring role as a reserve on a title team would have been the quintessential ending to his erratic, yet sensational career. He would get a final chance to score, captivate, and prove that the force driving him all these years was, indeed, winning.
Unfortunately, the same stubbornness which made him so brilliant is also what will prevent us from ever getting to see that happen.


