How is iverson doing

As proven by him being picked by the Sixers with the number one overall in the NBA's draft. He would go on to win Rookie of the Year honors and immediately established himself as one of the league's best players. The rest should have been history. His career should have been easy going from there. Everyone thought Iverson would spend his career in Philly, put up huge numbers, and win multiple championships.

But with a guy like Iverson, there are no such things as storybook endings. Iverson's on court play wasn't really a problem. His mix of solid shooting, sweet dribble moves , and relentless effort attacking the hoop established him as possibly the most dominant scorer since Jordan.

The importance of those games is measured by rivalries and the "I need to see that guy" factor. That's it. From to , Iverson always made my list. So I don't give a crap about Iverson's win shares, his ranking among top-fifty scorers with the lowest shooting percentage or whatever. Every post Y2K ticket to an Iverson game guaranteed a professional, first-class performance, and for whatever reason, he was always more breathtaking in person.

He played injured in the playoffs and established himself as perhaps the pound-for-pound toughest player in the game. But what perhaps spoke louder than his scoring was his swagger. That's a very overused word today, but Iverson had it. Hell, you can even say Iverson invented it. Iverson had cornrows. He had tattoos all over his body. He got off the bus and walked around in "gangster" clothes. He was friends with rappers. For better or worse, Iverson changed the whole cultural significance of the NBA.

You can pretty much credit him for David Stern's dress code. His off-court behavior fueled the fire as well. He recorded a Hip-Hop song that was never released supposedly because it was extremely homophobic. He was arrested for possession of marijuana and guns.

He was always getting into trouble at casino's and was actually banned from Atlantic City. It was at this time, around , that Iverson became the most loved and hated basketball player on the planet. The "new school" of NBA fans loved his energy. They loved his highlight reel plays.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar voice fills the Wells Fargo Center hallways—and there he is. Allen Iverson is 44 now and a little thicker around the middle, but otherwise looks much as he always has, with the important exception that his current fit is not nearly as baggy as before. Most notably, Iverson is also rocking a Yankees hat. Anyone else would be excommunicated from Philly for such blatant blasphemy.

With Iverson, no one even blinks. Iverson lives in Charlotte these days, but makes a handful of contractually obligated appearances a year for the Sixers as a … as a what? Fan favorite? It has been 10 years since Iverson last played in the NBA, wrapping up his Hall of Fame career with the same franchise that drafted him—a retirement send-off that culminated in the Sixers gifting him a personalized fishing boat with an outboard motor for reasons that are still unclear to me—but he remains as wildly popular among locals today as he did a decade ago.

And then ask yourself whether Rollins would make it halfway to the nearest exit before the new mutated Phillie Phanatic body-slammed him as punishment. The only requirement for him to be showered with love is the same now as ever: He just has to show up. That is sometimes an issue.

In , journalist Kent Babb reported that after Iverson missed practice one day during his first tour of duty with the Sixers, he was drunk for the subsequent and now infamous press conference rant.

More recently, the Sixers held an art exhibit with Reebok in November. But tonight, he is present and eager to get this latest reunion underway. I spend most of the pregame and game in his company and, as with most things Iverson, our time together is a blur. We end up having five different Aaron Sorkin walk-and-talk conversations, as his handlers rush him to and from countless grip-and-grin fan events and various media interviews all over the Wells Fargo Center before we eventually settle into seats in the alumni suite in the second half for a longer sitdown.

At the moment, being Allen Iverson means being a prop. During a halftime meet-and-greet with season-ticket holders, four evidently overserved and overjoyed fans pack in so tightly around Iverson while trying to take a picture that they all almost topple backward into a 76ers-branded backdrop.

Luckily Iverson catches himself and brushes it off. Still, he would prefer if, before he mugs for more pictures and shakes more hands and does more interviews, he could have his braids fixed. This is, after all, why his hair stylist is in tow.

Prince, the aforementioned hair stylist and her daughter, and more than a few friends. The format here is the same as all his other stops: a roughly minute flood of kids and adults eager for photos. The Temple Owl takes one with him. Her name is actually Vava. You might have caught her work in Crazy Rich Asians. Vava and Iverson pose for pictures together before being herded into another, much smaller windowless room for a joint interview with a Chinese TV station.

Iverson was careless with his money and spent it without any care or financial planning. There was also a time when Iverson forgot where he parked his car at the airport. Instead of looking for the vehicle, Allen Iverson ditched it and bought a new one instead.

While his draft stock had taken a plunge following his legal struggles, Iverson was selected first overall in the NBA Draft ahead of Kobe Bryant, Ray Allen, and several other soon-to-be stars. Aside from Jordan, no one changed the game like Iverson. Iverson marked a shift in culture in the NBA, bringing hip hop style to the basketball court. This came at the chagrin of David Stern, and the NBA, who imposed a strict dress code after Iverson and several other players started to wear street style in games.

At the same time, however, Iverson was a marketing dream. At his peak, he was an unstoppable force despite barely standing at six-feet tall.