Allen Iverson: What Is His Legacy?

Allen Iverson is one of the great names in sports. As one of the most polarizing figures in NBA history, his name immediately evokes a reaction from any basketball fan. Whether it’s a positive or a negative reaction depends on the person. Iverson’s name is synonymous with individual success, ballers with tattoos and baggy shorts and off-the-court troubles all at once. When you hear “Allen Iverson,” you could recall any memory from his trip to the NBA Finals to his now infamous practice rant. It’s not often that a player is so revered by some fans and scorned by others. So now that AI is officially retiring, what will his legacy be?

Answering such a complicated question straight-on is impossible. So we start by examining the man himself, and the things he achieved on the basketball court. Allen Iverson, a 6’0″, 165-pound shooting guard out of Georgetown University, played two years of college basketball. He led the Hoyas to the Sweet 16 his first year and the Elite 8 in his second. Iverson averaged three steals per game and won the Big East Defensive Player of the Year Award both seasons. He won the Big East Rookie of the Year Award, was named a First Team All-American and left Georgetown as the Hoyas’ all-time leader in career scoring average at 22.9 points per game. The whole nation saw that this little guy could compete with the big boys, even though the bowling alley incident from his high school years still loomed over him like many defenders would one day.

But like those future defenders, A.I. overcame the obstacle. Selected first overall in the 1996 NBA Draft, Iverson had a lot of expectations to live up to, which was a tall order for the shortest No. 1 pick in NBA history. But despite being short and the fact that he was joining a Philadelphia 76ers team that was even shorter in the win column the prior season, Iverson won the Rookie of the Year Award, improved his team’s record by four games and averaged 23.5 points, 7.5 assists and 2.1 steals per game. Although the team still finished at the bottom of the Eastern Conference, Sixers fans could already tell they had something special.

As his time in the league went on, however, Iverson’s reception among basketball fans was mixed. He was undeniably one of the most dynamic scorers in the game at the time and his ever-increasing number of tattoos, iconic corn rows and impossibly baggy shorts took the nation’s youth by storm. Young hoopers identified with Iverson in a new and different way than any superstar before him. His outright irreverence for the standard rules, his unquestionable heart and ego on the court and his incredible ability to put the ball in the basket resonated with young basketball fans. But not everyone saw him in such a positive light.

Some fans, especially older fans and those with little tolerance for immaturity, saw Iverson’s individual act as a sort of selfish abandonment of the team game. His tattoos and corn rows were interpreted as another affront to to the game these basketball purists respected so much. His unapologetically profane interviews were seen as a derisive threat to a league that was heading further in the wrong direction. His natural talent was overshadowed by his off-the-court shenanigans for some. Where the easily influenced younger generation saw a winner, others saw a ghetto hoop star, a thug. For undersized, aspiring basketball players with NBA dreams, he was The Answer. For fans concerned about the future of the NBA, he was the problem.

Allen Iverson’s image was imitated by some and scorned by others. (Lipofsky Basketballphoto.com via Wikimedia Commons)

On the court, he helped the Sixers improve to 31 wins in his second season. The following lockout-shortened season, he led the league in scoring (26.8 PPG), was a member of the All-NBA First Team and led Philly past the No. 3 seeded Orlando Magic to the second round of playoffs. The next season he earned his first of 11 consecutive All-Star appearances and helped the Sixers nab the fifth spot in the East. For his fans, Iverson’s play justified his $70 million contract extension. His critics were quick to bring up his numerous disagreements with head coach Larry Brown.

In fact, those frequent spats nearly prompted the 76ers to trade him to the Detroit Pistons the summer before the 2000-01 season. If Matt Geiger hadn’t taken exception to his $5 million trade kicker being forfeited, the deal would’ve happened, which also would have virtually erased the 2001 Philadelphia 76ers from the history books. But when it fell through, Iverson and Brown accepted the situation and decided to make the most of it.

It was no coincidence, then, that Iverson’s best season immediately followed. The Sixers raced out the gates to a 10-0 record and finished with the best record in the Eastern Conference at 56-26. Iverson averaged 31.1 points per game that season, earning his second scoring title, the steals title (2.5 SPG) and his first and only MVP Award. The Sixers downed the Indiana Pacers in the first round, edged Vince Carter‘s Toronto Raptors in the second round and defeated the Milwaukee Bucks’ nucleus of Sam Cassell, Glenn Robinson and Ray Allen seven games to earn a trip to the NBA Finals. Iverson dropped 44 in the decisive Game 7, prancing around as the clock winded down and soaking in the crowd’s unyielding “Beat L.A.!” chants (at the 8:25 mark of the video below).

The Sixers met Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant‘s Los Angeles Lakers in the Finals. That Lakers team would three-peat and become one of the great lost dynasties in NBA history. What did the 2001 Sixers have, other than their Mighty Mouse-sized MVP? Theo Ratliff and Dikembe Mutumbo. So near the end of Game 1, when A.I. crossed up Tyronn Lue, hit a deep two in overtime to seal the victory on the road and stomped over his defender, Iverson’s fans were vindicated. He had posted 48 points in a winning effort against a superior Lakers team in Staples Center. But awesome as it was, nobody knew that Iverson’s career had just reached its apex in that moment.

The Sixers lost four games straight, three of which were in Philadelphia, and Iverson’s best shot at winning a title had dissipated. No one knew it yet, but Iverson would never reach the NBA Finals again. His Sixers would see their season end in early playoff exits as the head coaching position became a revolving door in Philly. From 2003-06, the Sixers would go through four different coaches. Iverson averaged a career high 33 points per game during the 2005-06 season, but was traded to the Denver Nuggets in December 2006.

He played well in Denver but the Nuggets never made it far in the postseason. A.I. had stints with the Detroit Pistons and Memphis Grizzlies before he returned to the Philadelphia 76ers in 2009. His return was met by a righteously rocking ovation that felt well-deserved. Iverson was finally home. But three months later, he would leave the team again, saying he had to tend to his daughter’s health problems. He would never play another NBA game after 2010.

Iverson’s legacy is hard to peg. It’s a combination memories, varying from person to person. He was a dynamic scorer with insane ball-handling skills, enhanced even more by of his tiny frame. He singlehandedly inspired the NBA dress code. His ego, pride and heart were unparalleled during his time in the league. He singlehandedly carried a team to the NBA Finals and racked up an MVP Award, 11 All-Star appearances, four scoring titles and three steals titles. Iverson finished with more than 24,000 points, 5,000 assists and 3,000 rebounds. His career regular season scoring average (26.7 PPG) is sixth on the all-time list and his career playoff scoring average (29.7) is second only to Michael Jordan.

He also became reviled and pitied for his off-the-court issues just as much as he was revered for his on-the-court talent. Whether it was his publicized divorce, his financial issues or his drinking and gambling problems, Allen Iverson remained in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Any time Iverson was in the news the past few years, it was never anything good. And he’s fully aware of it. You had to feel sorry for the way The Answer’s career turned out when he gave his second-most famous press conference and broke down in the process.

No matter what your opinion of him is, Allen Iverson changed the nature of the NBA. He was simultaneously everything that’s right and wrong with the modern basketball superstar. Our love for efficiency stats now shows us that Iverson wasn’t as prolific on offense as we used to think; his career field goal percentage was 42.5 and his career 3-point shooting percentage was even worse at 31.3. But he was a joy to watch, a physical specimen unlike any other. It’s impossible to watch highlights of Philly’s run to the 2001 NBA Finals and not marvel at how this small but incredibly quick and resilient player found ways to score over the trees, just like it’s impossible to watch the practice rant without cracking a smile. Between his college and NBA accomplishments, he’s a surefire Hall-of-Famer and one of the ten greatest shooting guards of all time. Now that he’s officially retired, hopefully he can get his life back together for his children and for himself. But no matter what, it’s safe to say that Allen Iverson’s legacy is perfectly fitting for one of the most polarizing figures in the history of professional sports.