AI: End of an Era

There's an old cliche that says you never know a good thing until it's gone. Now we know.

He enters the League in 1996, a 6-foot shooting guard with a troubled past. He lacks the size for his natural position that the pass-first mentality for the position people say he should play. It doesn't matter. He proves right away that he deserved to go #1. The way he slices through defenses and finishes at the rim. The way his 160-pound frame takes contact from giants a hundred pounds bigger and shrugs it off. The way his heart never lets those beatings force him to miss a game.

Years later, fans still remember watching the rookie go up against the greatest basketball player that ever lived. Watching him rock the living legend with a baby crossover before catching him with a big one and hitting a fadeway. We didn't know it then, but in that one play, Allen Iverson told the world he wouldn't "Be Like Mike." He would be AI.The Sixer Years

His hair grows. He covers himself in ink. He wears du-rags in post-game press conferences and downplays the importance of practice. He shoots too much. He is a nightmare for men sitting in NBA offices that want to market superstars as role models. And because of that, he becomes more than just a role model.

The numbers and accomplishments pile up. Six years into his career, he already has three scoring titles; two steals titles; and an MVP. His resume speaks for itself. Then, you see that he is one of the smallest men on the court, and as a child, you suddenly believe that you can do anything. You watch him carry a team of role players to the championship round, dropping 50-point games in the playoffs, even beating Shaq & Kobe in Game 1 of the NBA Finals. You see him step over Tyronn Lue after burying a jumper from the corner, and you get chills. His unlikely superstardom makes you believe you can overcome anything.

The best part is that, for all the good that he is doing (perhaps without even the man himself realizing it), the NBA tries to change him. They make his crossover illegal. They add zone defenses. They institute a dress code. Because some players run into trouble involving drugs and weapons (Iverson's past includes both), the NBA is worried about its image. Stricter fines and penalties are created. Clean superstars are pushed to the forefront while others aren't marketed. Yet Iverson stays true to himself; in a League where everything is changing, AI remains unchanged.

USA 2004He adds to his individual accomplishments (a 4th scoring title, a 3rd steals title, more All-Star selections), but his lack of team success has made it easy for people to criticize. He leads a US team that takes home the Bronze in 2004. His Philadelphia 76ers get progressively worse. He single-handedly carries them to the playoffs in 04-05 with a monster season: 30.7 points, 7.9 assists, 4 rebounds, and 2.4 steals per game. He comes back next season with 33 points, 7.4 assists, and 2 steals. Yet, when someone looks for someone to blame for his team's losses, all fingers point at Iverson.

He's finally traded. People start believing that no team can win with Iverson. That he is selfish. Somewhere, David Stern is smiling. It's become easier for his League to promote other superstars because Iverson's way just doesn't work.

The change of scenery does not result in a change of self. With AI, the Nuggets win 45 and 50 games, respectively, but they flame out in the first round of the playoffs both years. Iverson is blamed. Ignore the fact that they played no team defense; that their young players were inconsistent; that they had another shoot-first superstar who played selfishly. The blame falls on Iverson.

Iverson is traded again, shipped to Detroit in exchange for Chauncey Billups. Billups is the anti-Iverson, the ideal team leader who plays defense and distributes the ball more efficiently. The Nuggets are better with Billups. Or they are better without Iverson. Ignore the fact that Carmelo is making sacrifices he never previously made; that Nene is playing well for the first time ever; that the bench is better. The blame falls on Iverson.

Allen IversonFor whatever reason, in Detroit, Iverson changed. The man who showed this generation that people could succeed at whatever they choose to do while remaining true to themselves finally changed. The NBA has finally gotten what they've always wanted. He cuts his hair. He says all the right things. He's buying into a system that doesn't revolve around him. He is making sacrifices "for the good of the team" while "doing whatever it takes to win," two cliches that were never associated with him.

And who's better for it? Iverson? He is still getting blamed for his team's problems. Detroit lost eight in a row with Iverson in the lineup and have won their last two with him on the sideline. Meanwhile, his place in the record books and his individual legacy is being tarnished, falling from that coveted third spot on the all-time scoring list behind Jordan and Chamberlain. The NBA's best examples of teamwork (the Pistons) and individuality (Iverson) are gone, and fans are left mourning the end of an era.

It's not just the cornrows that we'll miss. It's the numbers; the statline that had you calling your friend to ask him if he saw what AI did last night. It's the passion, the drive. It's the man that made people believe they could accomplish great things no matter how great the odds or imposing the obstacles. But, most of all, it's the originality. It's the way he played the game unlike any man his size ever had, the way he did things no little man had ever done. And it's the way he stayed true to himself in the face of constant criticism.

What more could the NBA have wanted out of him? Work hard and stay true to yourself. That's what Allen Iverson was all about. He always did "whatever it took to win," playing through pain to give his team a chance to win. Everything he did was always "for the good of his team." They needed him to carry them. People throw around these cliches and try to make him out to be the bad guy, but for his entire career, Allen Iverson played harder than anyone at a level higher than most. All while remaining a unique individual and inspiring others to do the same while being criticized every step of the way. He changes, and the one thing that doesn't is the blame that falls on his shoulders.

They say you never know a good thing until it's gone.

Now we know.

Mike DeStefano can be reached at mike@hoopsdaily.com.