Iverson, 76ers face tough task Repeating last season’s magic run won’t be easy He cups his ear to the crowd, and a non-Laker nation applauses. Genuine applause because he appears so genuine, that he’ll scar his body and jar his body for the dollars and the cause, that he’ll cry if that’s not enough, that he’ll wear emotion with the same pride he does the needled tribute to his daughter and his dare on his canvas body. In a big man’s game, he is certainly the little kid who did, who can do with Shaq looming and Kobe trailing, the underdog’s dogg. And who can’t love him? THE WORLD FOUND a place for Allen Iverson last year. In one magical season, culminating in a Finals that made L.A. the unwitting universal foe, he went from the poster child of Generation Ruination to favorite son. Everything in life is perception, and suddenly Iverson’s flaws were his charm, and Kobe Bryant’s greatness felt almost snooty. Fact: We will take soiled sort over spoiled sport every time. Somehow it’s always more palpable going bottom to top than from perfect to imperfect. In fairness, Kobe was a gentleman in June, even if he was a brat in February. But every time Allen cupped his ear to the crowd, we all cheered.  Yo, Bubba — thump chest with right arm — it’s all good now, baby… The images are still so fresh, in fact too fresh. In sport, those images must give way to new ones at the beginning of every cycle. It’s our job to forget, to grow fickle and bored, looking elsewhere for the next storyline, and to hell with last year. This, of course, is bad news for Iverson’s Sixers. Dodging mines against the Bucks and Raptors, leveling a scare into the mighty Lakers, playing on all the sore feet and shoulders and knees and ankles and elbows, all that will be nothing compared to doing it all over again. The Sixers were so great at defying the odds last season that the odds will seek revenge, bloody and calculating, without sympathy.  The climate has already changed in Philadelphia. Pat Croce, the charismatic team president who climbed bridges in the Finals and greater heights with a dormant franchise during in his five-year tenure, got tangled in a corporate spiderweb. The Sixers lost part of their soul and their face when they lost Croce during an uncomfortable summer news conference.  Larry Brown, the sage coach, decided to stay on that day, but there is always an air of uncertainty that surrounds him. He is in the twilight of a Hall of Fame career, a coach’s coach who wants, more than anything, his players to show reverence to the game. That means crazy things in this NBA — defense and rebounding and playing for 48 minutes every night. Brown quit once last season. He had to retreat to Malibu to return this season. He has already belied his own history of burnout and carpetbagging. The relationship between Brown and Iverson has been strained in the past. It’s good now. Winning has always been the great cure-all, losing the great divider. Only Brown could create a team like last year’s Sixers and only Brown could have won the East with them. That style, however, takes a toll, both on the body and psyche, both on coach and player. Brown’s brilliant coaching always seemed to have an expiration date.  The Sixers came limping into the season, with Iverson and Aaron McKie recovering from offseason surgery that took place too deep into the offseason — providing another source of dismay from the fanbase. Philadelphia opened with five consecutive losses as Iverson watched from the sidelines in agony. The Answer’s return seemed to provide an answer, as the Sixers won seven straight before falling to the Raptors on Sunday. But this team still has injuries, questions and fallacies. Starting point guard Eric Snow is out for another two months with a shattered thumb. Matt Geiger, bad knees and all, is injured and retiring. Tyrone Hill has been traded. So has George Lynch. Speedy Claxton, last year’s rookie who ripped up his knee and missed the season, is back, but how many minutes can the 5-7 Claxton and 5-11 Iverson play together?  By the way, Iverson doesn’t like the new rules on zone defense. He says it will block the lane on him. Matt Harpring, the new starter at the three, can hit an open 16-footer and should get some open looks when teams collapse on Iverson. Then there’s Derrick Coleman. Remember DC? Sixers fans do from the dire days and that’s the problem for Brown, who has always been enamored — like the rest of the world, to no avail — with Coleman’s abilities. In truth, the Sixers had little option but to bet the defense of their East crown on DC. Left without a true power forward after the trade of Hill, since the Robert Traylor (don’t call him Tractor, just call him fat) experiment couldn’t even last a preseason. Philly also got help at the point (Vonteego Cummings) and depth at the four (Corey Blount) in the deal for the hardnosed Lynch, but how far the Sixers go could depend on DC. In a basketball sense, it makes sense: Coleman’s offensive touch compliments Dikembe Mutombo’s solid defense and rebounding. He can also open the floor for Iverson with his range. Just two years ago, DC averaged 16.7 points and 8.5 boards. With Toronto, Milwaukee and Orlando all improved, the Sixers need to be healthy and meshed by spring to have a chance to win the East (and lose to the Lakers again, because, in reality, there’s no way in hell the Lakers don’t threepeat).  Of course, DC never plays a full season. Only once in the past seven seasons has he even played 70 games, and DC somehow always proves as a disruptive or destructive force. A top-five talent, a top-five waste, DC equals Jeff George. DC is a potential virus, and Charlotte cites so with its substantially better record with him out of the lineup.  The most worrisome scenario for the Sixers is DC’s affect on the league’s MVP. Iverson likes DC. He liked him during his first tour when Iverson was a rookie. The two like to hang out. Now this may sound insidious, painting Coleman almost as the bogeyman in a pimp hat, but the biggest fear of DC is not whether he’ll skip a shootaround in Detroit but whether he’ll pollute Iverson.  Iverson became a different person last year. He lost some of the chip on his shoulder. He embraced some of the duties stardom. He realized the bigger scope and that he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted because he can ball and he’s got money and he was wronged in the past, the very distant past. Sometimes he even made it on time to practice. Best of all, he tried. He even stopped production of his rap album, which was due out in the fall and due to really offend some people. A person familiar with the demo said “the rest of the album made the first track (40 Bars) sound like the Star Spangled Banner.”  Now Iverson didn’t change. It’s the greatest misnomer in life. We may experience a change of heart, of thought, of habit, but we don’t change the fabric of our being. We grow older, and sometimes that means we grow wiser. Allen Iverson realized last season that it might be cool to be the outlaw but that’s no comparison to being loved. He realized that most people want to find a reason to like you when you are Allen Iverson. Sports fans, in particular, crave redeeming values in their heroes, and we will sometimes fabricate them just to prove our emotions aren’t offered in naught; after all, how silly would we look then?  Allen Iverson made us feel good last season. It’s a bigger challenge this season.		Author Anthony L Gargano   Source MSNBC   Return to Articles