
Watching the Sixers play makes me wish I could create a new vocabulary to describe the way Allen Iverson plays, because the current string of words often used by broadcasters, fans and writers don't seem to do him justice.
To be able to properly understand how good a player is, a fan must be able to watch him night in and night out. Sadly, the Sixers haven't had many winning seasons in the last 9 years, and as a result, Allen Iverson's national TV time is more limited than perhaps it should be. But to say that Iverson is the most electric player I've ever seen play basketball would not be an overstatement.
Sure, there are the flashy numbers. This season, he ranked first in the league with 30.7 points per game, second in free throw attempts with 786, fifth in assists per game with 7.9, second in steals per game with 2.4, and second in minutes played per game with 42.3.
And in the playoffs? Iverson led the league with 47.6 minutes per game, ranked second with 31.2 points per game, second with 10.8 assists per game, and fourth with 2 steals per game.
But then there are the things you notice when you watch him play; the things that don't show on on stat sheets or on SportsCenter's flashy top 5 lists. Namely, there is this: Allen Iverson never stops moving. This is, no doubt, one of the things that makes him so difficult to play with, as his constant movement can be frustrating to those who would rather rely on set plays. On the flipside, it is also what makes him so challenging to play against. As a student at Georgetown, Iverson finished first on his team in the squad's endurance tests. As the story goes, those administering the test had to ask Iverson to stop running on the treadmill after it became clear that he showed no sign of slowing down. Such endurance is a key part of Iverson's offensive game, as he's often able to circle the half-court two or three times per possession to free himself of defenders.
And then there is Iverson's tenacity, which would surely break the scales if measured in numeric values. Weighing in at a mere 165 pounds, Iverson plays every game with a blue-collar effort, as if it is his last. He continually drives to the basket, undaunted by the fact that his defenders are twice his size. What he lacks in size he most certainly makes up for in determination and resiliency. While bigger, stronger players rely on their big hands or tall legs to make plays, Iverson throws his whole body around the court every single time down the court. No steal, no basket, no assist is too small; Iverson gives 150% for each and every one of them.
Unfortunately, sometimes, it's not enough. For years, Iverson has been surrounded by bit-part players who could not give him the help he needed. An inspiring effort from your leading scorer is not enough if the players surrounding him simply don't have the talent with which to work.
Until now.
Despite the Sixers' elimination in five games at the hands of the Detroit Pistons last night, one can't help but think that the club appears to have turned a very sharp corner. Gone are the days of aging NBA role players shuffling through the Sixers' locker room, each one trying to play Ben Affleck to Iverson's Matt Damon. Finally, the Sixers appear to have a future. Samuel Dalembert, Andre Igudala, Kyle Korver. Those are the names we'll be hearing more and more in the coming years. Those are the names that will help show the world the kind of player Allen Iverson really is.
Tenacious. Determined. Ambitious. Awe-inspiring. Fierce. Competitive. Electric. Or, one of the hundred new words that watching Allen Iverson makes me wish I could create.