Answering The Bell: Five Preeminent Allen Iverson Postseason Performances
Thank Gawd It’s Friday.
The Do-Or-Die Way…
Let’s Call It A.I. Day.
The Legendary Lil Man Coming Wit The Calvary to Main Line TGIFriday’s!!!
The OG who on the Hall of Fame podium explained: “if it’s you and it’s me? It’s me.”
Let’s take it back like a Mitchell & Ness throwback.
As in Pre-9/11 during the year 2001.
For those outside back then, lemme ask a simple question that requires no thought answering: were you not entertained?!?
For some those were halcyon days of The Matrix and Sixth Sense in theaters, first taste of working independence, cheap rent, cell phones becoming a thing, Stankonia and Chronic 2001 being brand new albums, multiple untaxed cash jobs funding trips, Yung Andy Reid & Company elevating our Birds to levels we hadn’t seen yet, a seemingly endless stream of good friends and/or potential romantic interests, the true beginnings of the internet (shout out to Okayplayer #ThatSite was social media before social media), live concerts from The Roots to Jigga to P-Funk or Zeppelin in many permutations, but atop that list…
Do you remember who was truly the muggfugging best?!?!
ALLEN IVERSON
For those of exquisite taste, there was no more important icon in life than A.I. then.
Nowadays?!?
Ask the question: what does AI mean?
The Answer to that inquiry, contemporaneously, feels more akin to a nightmare rather than a mercury-manuevering-here-to-destroy-all-foes-ultralight-beam-stamped-by-the-city-of-brotherly-love-supreme-team-dream.
Those two letters combined, A.I., in this time, mean something totally different.
In ‘01 AI was barely a Spielberg flick set in Haddonfield with Haley Joel Osment.
Nope…for the few of us who grew up in real deal Haddonfield, or millions more that never did, Haddonfield means Halloween. Don’t look up Haddonfield, Illinois, because there literally is no such thing. Haddonfield, New Jersey, however, is a legitimate spot, solidified in name by cinematic native Debra Cox, HMHS ’68, who wrote a script, moved to Los Angeles, handed it to her man John Carpenter, who went on to direct, as both discovered a talented nepo-baby named Jamie Lee, who became a Scream Queen.
But again, apologies to one of America’s greatest auteurs in Steven Spielberg (also from the area) or young Haley Joel, for those near home, or most other Earthly places folks roamed, during the late nineties crossing Y2K over into the 2000s…AI meant only one thing:
ALLEN IVERSON.
In my spirit it still means that to me.
The Sixers have since been blessed with other elite talents, notably MVP Joel Embiid.
A big man standing 7’2” who drains free throws consistently and sinks threes.
Allen Iverson in socks can’t reach six feet.
But each game AI played, like it was his last, was spent dashing to the basket, careening into the trees, at breakneck speed.
So when I say A.I., what it means to me is a piece living, breathing performance art, who was at the forefront of sports and popular culture, playing five PATCO stops from me, just across the Delaware River.
A drop of mercury who could, then would, regardless of whether he really should.
Slipping-n-dipping, quick-dashing-n-hard-crashing against broad shoulder blockades of intervention, at the expense of a 160-LB frame subsisting off Hennessy and chicken wings.
Before Boston Scientific’s animatronic Hellhounds suit up in final form Boston Celtic riot gear, then drag us poor souls into an automated apocalyptic atmosphere, played out at a Crypto-sponsored Battle Royale near…I wanna take this moment we have to remind me and you how much we appreciate(d) AI, a phenomenon beloved for feats seemingly Herculean, while at the same time being, unapologetically, a human being.
That AI, the realest one, Bubbachuck, Allen Iverson, The Answer, Aye Yung Tiny Dancer, can’t ever be forgotten in favor of humankind’s fading future or its dread-soaked question.
The man who rapped as Jewelz, who rocked more than a few, a flawed dude covered in tattoos, long before millennials or zoomers made it far less edgy and cool, a young man who put MJ on skates, who gave Jadakiss his biggest corporate break, that doo-rag-bedazzled kid his Cru Thik cohorts called Bubbachuck, an ESPN cover story declared ‘Notorious MVP’ well known for not giving a fuck, dual-sport All American high school legend turned Tom Brokaw interviewee to governor pardoned felon, the guard that Head Coach Larry Brown reluctantly gave license to chuck. That dude, Allen Ezail Iverson, Bad News Virginia’s Own, Bethel Dynasty Raider, Georgetown Hoya Big John Thompson Savior, cannot be replicated by any robot.
Meanwhile, practice be damned, unlike players who followed him in Sixer uniform, ahem, including even the more prominent ones to trustfully process among them…
You cannot name a Sixer playoff game AI played in when he didn’t give all he got.
Whether he had it or not.
When it was the time of the season to ante up, when even those gaudy season averages needed to be exceeded?
The smallest figure on the court had a hard-earned rep for stepping up big.
In honor of our favorite Big Lil Man, hand-picked from a plethora of possible options, here is Five Times AI heard that bell ring…then came out balling.
Each vid clip is a small wonder to behold, even without the aesthetic benefit of HD.
Note: each of these five games below are superior to any single playoff game ever played by Kobe, despite Bean’s far better supporting cast and larger sample size. Just saying. Too Soon?
“ANTE UP!” : NBA Record TEN Steals in Philly Playoff Debut (5/12/99 ECSF vs. Orlando)
Allen Iverson rarely gets credited as a defensive force for obvious reasons.
In a jungle of Amazonian warriors, his five-feet-elevinish barely breaks even.
But cotdamn…this man could really wreak havoc in any passing lane.
Then murder you in the transition game.
In his brief stint at Georgetown University, that was a claim to Big East Defensive Player Of The Year fame.
It was a skill displayed to record-breaking degree in his debut NBA playoff game.
I remember where I watched this one.
In Westminster, MD, down the hill at some apartments known as the Greens with my fellow Sixer fan brethren Phil Shipos.
Watching this Game 1 win in Orlando, who held the best record in the East that 1999 season, let me know I had to be home by the upcoming weekend to see Game 3.
Days later cut back to NJ, a weekend visit riding up from Maryland with a fresh pair of Sixers-back-in-the-playoffs-first-time-since-Barkley tickets via Hot Seat on Rte 70, for me and my buddy Dukie, two kids back home to meet our OG Neil Townsend for a warm-up toast before a Philly tip-off at noon? Sixers were back and Pat Croce jumped over the moon.
As a blowout win was beginning to wrap, each and every time Anfernee Hardaway went to the line an entire arena in unison chanted “PENNY SUCKS”. The Magic PG receiving such hatred, who’d been a fan favorite, looked ready to cry or give up.
As the three of us made our way out towards the mid-day afternoon spring South Philly sun, soaking up the first home playoff game in a decade ending in a blowout upset win, I tightly clutched to a complimentary Daily News insert poster of Allen Iverson, while from the escalator out looking directly up at crazy-ass then-president Pat Croce, leaning over an arena staircase balcony, fist-pumping, then once arriving outside, walking up on countless strangers on our way to the car, explaining “I’m an investigator…trying to find the best player in the game”. Without fail, each pointed to the pic in my investigative hand, before responding with some variation of “THAT’S HIM!”.
52-Pick-Up (2001 ECSF vs Toronto Game 2)
This is a seven-game series too often forgotten by time despite including the two best players in the East at the time.
The Toronto vs Philly semi featuring Vince Carter vs Allen Iverson mano y mano?
To now understand how monumental that was then you mighta had to be there tho.
Carter set an NBA playoff record for threes, as the best player on his team, a high-wudder mark for over a decade until the game’s math changed, tied or broken by Steph Curry or Danny Green.
Speaking of Curry, peep Steph’s daddy Dell in this clip. No small wonder his son, bantamweight baller, took cues court-side, citing #3 as one he aspired to be.
VC scored 50 in at least one or maybe even two of these games.
AI scored 50+ in at least two if not three before the Sixers won out in Game 7.
No I’m not googling anything.
But feel free to fact check me.
There are many moving parts in this TNT playoff broadcast work of art…but Allen Iverson represents the bullseye dart.
Shout out to the great Hubie Brown.
Hubie is 91 years young now, still popping in once in a blue moon to bless basketball games with his billowing basketball encyclopedia of knowledge and flawless mastery of the second person tense.
“You see, you love to see AI throw down.”
I Love the 54 (2001 ECSF vs. Toronto, Game 5)
Vince Carter aka Air Canada was at his apex.
Shout-out to the previously mentioned Duker’s oldest sibling Kathy…
I remember being at Kath and husband Gene’s home on Princeton Ave, in the basement watching Carter do his thing, this being the same house I attended a boisterous fight party in which we shockingly witnessed Mike Tyson twice bite Holyfield’s ear. In that relative turn of the millennium era, you never could have convinced any of us there Carter wasn’t about to have a Hall of Fame career.
And sure he did…even if he became less known for acrobatic flair than longevity.
But he never, after flying back to Chapel Hill to get his UNC bachelor’s degree in the AM of an elimination game in Philly, clanking a prayer from Amen corner in Game 7, was the same after this series.
Please Olde Mike Tyson beat the brakes off this Gen-Z YouTube Doofus tonight.
Post-Election, I can’t handle two defeats of such monumental consequence and pretzel logic in a land feeling increasingly dystopian in back-to-back week, alright?
Grand Opening, Grand Closing: The Double-Nickel (G1 vs CHA, 2003)
I’ll never forget hearing the late great Bill Walton saying “when Allen Iverson starts gliding from side to side on court like he’s crossover dribbling atop the table in a game of air hockey…you’ll soon be doomed to be destroyed by its beauty.”
That’s an actual statement, give or take minor word placement, made live on air by a national broadcaster, then compensated handsomely by NBC to provide cogent color-commentary.
Most would dismiss such a comment as trippy nonsense. Gotta admit I didn’t. On some cosmic level, watching it, I sorta knew what Bill meant.
For AI’s 55-point explosion, I was blessed to be in attendance for the performance…alongside lifelong friend and podcast co-host Jason Keenan. We were in the best seats either of us ever sat in for a Sixers game. Passed down at last minute by my about-to-retire old man, who received them bequeathed via Camden work connection. Row 4 back-behind-basket/bench corner, directly diagonal across Questlove courtside spot from us. Shortly after the anthem and lights-out team intros, I’m telling you, from the opening brightly lit tipoff, you could feel his Bruce Leroy Last Dragon glow. We watched on first possession Allen Iverson wiggling in Waltonesque description, shake free of defenders into an open midrange space top corner by us. When we saw that first midrange bank shot? Ge was already in rhythm ready to go. Next thing you know? Double-Nickel.
The Step-Over Game (vs. LA, Game 1, NBA Finals, 2001)
If we’d been injected with truth serum, none of us would have admitted it back then, but historically this likely represents the Apex of the Allen Iverson Experience, while on the game’s grandest stage, at tail end of an MVP season.
AI scored 48 points. Shaq 44. Kobe mustered just 15 points on 22 shots while in the second half being mostly taken off primary guard duty on A.I. who despite Kobe D + double team assistance, was cooking early on to wild cheers in the city and for the franchise where Jelly Bean Bryant played on Dr J’s team.
Watch this clip. Better yet watch this whole game again if you feel inclined to do so. It remains an incredible thing. Rewatch this entire series as a reminder that Larry Brown musta been smoking something to think PRIME SHAQ could be guarded by Dikembe (RIP). Or nah, nix that plan indefinitely, no need to relive a good thing gone bad in SD.
For gluttons or completists, witness the ways the Sixers blew a golden opportunity late to fly from LA, jubilant in their underdog jet, returning to Philly up 2-0, wit three games left.
But with some late free throws in Game 2, then a clearly beat-up Sixers squad leaking oil by Game 3 at the half, a flailing home crowd that had been lifting their improbable squad up over the course of this unlikely run was now booing Young Beyonce during a Destiny’s Child nationally televised halftime show for looking too much like a Laker girl.
B, her competitive “Survivor” spirit even as a girl-group fronting Houston teen, performed thru the pain, then gave a few boobirds two birds of her own, before D.C. made their way thru the First Union Center concourse exit.
I can’t find photo evidence of this on the internet, but not only do I remember it, both back then and right now, as a Philly-born boy…I understood and respected it.
By Game 4 you could see the season was soon to be RIP, while Marc McGrath and Sugar Ray had to be introduced by Croce as a personal chaperone before that peroxided future VH1 host launched into a forgettable ditty called “When It’s Over”, in some bitterly tasting irony.
Sugar Ray flew toward one-hit-wonder anonymity almost instantly. Conversely, Beyoncé soon went solo, and now 23 summers since the Sixers won a second round series, just headlined a sold-out stadium tour that purposefully premiered in Philly.
It’s important to note that this Spring 2001 version was absolutely the best Laker team since Peak Showtime, or any season since. They ran thru a deep West playoff field like a blitzkrieg, never losing a single game, until they got all they ever wanted early on in this series, despite a starting lineup around AI consisting of: Mutumbo, Dikembe…Hill, Tyrone…Snow, Eric…Jones, Jumaine…C’mon, MAYNE.
Allen Iverson arrived in the same 1996 draft from Georgetown as Lower Merion’s Kobe Bryant. AI was easily a better player over their first five shared seasons. Then once again in their seventh season 2004/2005. After that…perhaps an argument can be made but objectively, from 2006 until both were no longer elite, the Kobestans can have it. But you will never convince me that if Kobe Bean would have been drafted at 18 by his hometown team, rather than arriving to Los Angeles at the behest of Jerry West, that the Sixers would have ended up winning anything, or even reaching an NBA Finals as they did under Iverson.
Nor can you convince that Prime Allen Iverson, playing his first eight NBA seasons alongside Prime Shaquille O’Neal, under the tutelage of The Best Coach Of All-Time, representing the NBA’s Greatest Organization Of All-Time, wouldn’t have won at least three times.
I will never believe that.
Nor pretend that during this three-peat Kobe wasn’t Robin to Shaq’s Batman.
Also can’t be told that for two decades, Tim Duncan wasn’t consistently better and more conducive to team winning goals than both. It’s not close.
Shoot, while we’re here, please allow me to state for all posterity another note:
Lebron, not MJ, is The GOAT.
But I remain grateful to still consider Allen Iverson my personal favorite regardless.
And this is all the realest shit I ever wrote.
Google ChatGTP and Tell Em’ That Quote.
