A few weeks ago the NBA’s Philadelphia 76ers retired former
star guard Allen Iverson’s jersey number. On paper, it certainly made sense;
supposedly one of the best pound-for-pound basketball players, the 6-0, 165-lbs
Iverson averaged 26.7 points-per-game over his 17-year career, including four
scoring titles. But after the 2007-2008 season playing for the Denver Nuggets,
injuries, low production and “personal” issues marked his remaining few years
in league. A few people might question the relevance of the honor bestowed upon
him, since Iverson was blamed for the introduction and acceptance by certain
demographics of “gangsta” culture in the NBA, which alienated many in the white
audience. That is obvious around here, since only a hardcore group misses the departed
Seattle Sonics, while the Washington Huskies basketball team has hardly been
noticed, since they are not winning.
The “Afro” hair style of the 1970s was more amusing than
“threatening,” but the corn-rows, baggy shorts, tattoos, skin-piercing and
wearing “street” outfits instead of suits was something else. So were players
bringing guns into locker rooms, and court brawls between players and/or with
fans, and deliberate attempts to maim and injure opponents. At the very least,
Iverson brought the look and attitude of the “street” into the NBA, although he
preferred to let those in his “entourage” do his fighting for him.\
Iverson grew-up in
impoverished circumstances in Hampton, Virginia which is about evenly split
between whites and blacks. Gang activity is a problem of note, although no
different in scope than similar locales. Local law enforcement notes that most
gang-related crimes (burglary, assault, murder) are committed by those who are
legally juveniles; many civic leaders in the community complain that these
offenders are often given “lenient” punishment by the court system, which does
not deter further offenses. Iverson himself was “initiated” at an early age in
this culture, having been present when a murder was committed when he was
eight. His mother’s next boyfriend he called “dad” and who apparently was a
career criminal; but Iverson never found fault with him, claiming that his
“dad” committed crimes “for them.”
Iverson was a star
athlete in high school, although apparently this drew as much unwanted as
wanted attention in the racially-polarized city. When he was 17 he and his
friends (all black) allegedly caused a “disturbance” at a local bowling alley,
after which a brawl broke out with white patrons, all who would claim
“self-defense.” Iverson was alleged to have beaned a woman in the head with a
chair, but he claimed he left the building when the fight started. He and his
friends fled before the police arrived, but the battered whites knew who
Iverson was and named him as the “responsible” party. Iverson and three others
were arrested and charged, but none of the whites were. The case became the
occasion for charges of racism, including by the local media and the white
judge who doled out outrageously heavy-handed punishment—15 years in prison, 10
suspended. The notoriety of the case was such that after four months in prison,
the governor granted Iverson clemency, and his conviction was overturned on
appeal.
Iverson was sent to a
high school for “at-risk” students, but Georgetown coach John Thompson took a
flyer with him after Iverson’s mother paid him a visit. Iverson was a star for
the Hoyas, and although he managed to avoid incidents with the law, Thompson
was unable to “reform” Iverson or instill an appreciation for the educational
opportunity he was being given. At a time when most star college players were
still doing their four years, Iverson chose to leave college after two—the
first player for Thompson to have left school early.
The next stop for
Iverson was the Philadelphia 76ers, where he starred almost immediately.
However, coach Larry Brown accused him of being “selfish” and “lazy.” Iverson’s
high scoring percentage was clearly the product of taking a lot of shots, as
his career 42 percent field-goal shooting indicated; he averaged 31.4 points in
2001-2002 despite a near career low 39.8 shooting percentage. Charges that he was “lazy” certainly stem
from this and his oft-stated aversion to “practice.”
But it was Iverson’s
iconoclastic cultural “values” that drew the most attention, mostly negative. His
off-court activities—guns, drugs, alcohol, fights, gambling, out-of-control
spending—merely confirmed what people saw in his manner of dress and style.
Iverson’s need for “respect” apparently also required an unusually large “posse”
or “entourage,” with as many as fifty people serving as “aids,” friends and
moochers. Wherever they turned-up anyone in the way had to part like the Red
Sea; when they didn’t, brawls were likely to occur. In at least three such
incidents, Iverson and his various bodyguards were charged with assault and
causing serious injury.
Ralph Wiley wrote
about how like Tupac Shakur, Iverson became caught-up in the “thug life” when
he didn’t need to, and wouldn’t let go of it:
Oh, no? Sure they
have. All those men have been in the same or similar situations, of being the
Outsider, one way or another. But they made it to the inside, and so has Allen
Iverson, only he can't see it, doesn't realize it, or doesn't want to. The men
who would be surrogate fathers have gotten frustrated with Allen for thinking
the world had a special crucible just for him. He's too young to be bitter, but
he was.
He’s not the only
one, of course. Aaron Hernandez, formerly of the New England Patriots, had
received a second chance after being implicated in a homicide, inking a new
multi-million dollar contract and living in a mansion in an exclusive
neighborhood. Unfortunately, he couldn’t leave the “thug” in him behind, or his
mooching sycophantic “entourage.” Today, he awaits trial on a new murder
charge, having thrown the good life away without a thought of the consequences.
Others, like Ron Artest (who hypocritically calls himself “Meta World Peace”),
likely would be dead or serving a long prison sentence by now if they didn’t
have the good fortune of having enough talent for the NBA not to ignore.
Iverson’s refusal to
live a normal life has cost him dear. The “price” for having “friends” on his
payroll ran into seven-figures each year, When he filed for bankruptcy last
year, past due payments, mortgages, massive gambling debts, alimony and child
support were just part of his then expense account. His income was “only”
$62,500 a month, and he claimed he needed $10,000 for clothes, $10,000 for
groceries, $10,000 for dining and entertainment—and $1,000 for dry cleaning
(for what—suits he never wore?). After taxes, that doesn’t leave much. Iverson
also lost millions on his foreclosed mansions, which he seemed to have little
use for himself to begin with. He eventually settled with his ex-wife after a
divorce court judge told him he “didn’t know how to be a father,” paying out $3
million plus $8,000 a month in child support.
Iverson isn’t totally
broke, however; it was revealed that he has a secret “trust fund” worth $32
million set aside for him by Reebok, who had a shoe endorsement deal with
Iverson. It still exists because Iverson can’t get his hands on it until 2030,
at which time his ex-wife will get half of it.
When you have a lot
of money that is too easily had, it doesn’t seem real. It’s just there to
spend, with no thought of the future. Iverson apparently never thought of the
future, just living for the day. That’s all part of the nihilism of the “thug
life,” showing off to people and buying “respect.” But at least Iverson had a
good time while the money lasted, and he has his jersey hanging from the
rafters. So much for sending a “message” to our youth.
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