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April 6th- There has been much uproar surrounding Allen Iverson’s recent comments that he’d rather retire than continue coming off the bench. Say what you will about Iverson. He clearly has had some problems functioning within a team concept, he’s been a malcontent at times, and he has had some off-the-court issues. But the criticism he has endured from his recent comments (and subsequent shelving for the season) is totally undeserved.
Accepting a lesser role is always difficult for a superstar. Players who perform at a high level naturally expect the best from themselves. The difference is where each player chooses to draw the line.
Elgin Baylor, who had endured several operations on his knees over the course of his career, was 37 years old at the beginning of the 1971-72 season. He lacked the energy and explosiveness to fit into new coach Bill Sharman’s fastbreak gameplan and would have had to accept a limited reserve role. It was a difficult thing to ask of Baylor, considered the greatest forward the game had seen and perhaps the father of modern basketball. Baylor retired nine games into the season (without having played on a championship team), and ironically the Lakers immediately went on a 33-game winning streak and went on to win the championship.
Magic Johnson struggled to fit in with a younger generation of players during his ill-fated comeback midway through the 1995-96 season. After years of directing every aspect of the offense, he found it difficult to cede those responsibilities. No longer the superstar he was in his prime, he didn’t command the same respect as he once did, and his efforts to lead his younger teammates were unsuccessful. Johnson would retire for good after the season.
By contrast, some superstars have continued their careers in lesser roles in spite of how difficult it may have been for them. Bob McAdoo, for instance, was once the league MVP and scoring champ with the Buffalo Braves. At the prime of his career he was traded to the New York Knicks, where he was supposed to be a savior for a declining team in search of talent. McAdoo continued to put up stellar numbers but was unable to halt New York’s decline. He then had stops in Boston, Detroit, and New Jersey. In each place McAdoo came into a losing, dysfunctional organization. He kept putting up numbers, but became seen as damaged goods due to injuries and the mediocrity of his teams. McAdoo was then acquired by the Lakers, who asked him to come off the bench. He later acknowledged that the new role was very difficult for him to deal with, but it proved to be successful as the Lakers immediately won a championship with McAdoo averaging 17 ppg and 7 rpg during the 1982 playoffs.
Other greats may have played too long. Patrick Ewing and Hakeem Olajuwon embarrassed themselves with bit roles at the ends of their careers on the Magic and Raptors, respectively. Even their biggest fans cringe when they think of their final days in uniform.
Most of the “experts” who are criticizing Iverson and most of the GMs who may be interested in signing him during the offseason would like for Iverson to do what McAdoo did. But the fact is McAdoo is the exception, not the rule. The list of Hall-of-Fame caliber players who have been able to make successful transitions to the bench is very, very short. The Elgin/Magic and Ewing/Hakeem scenarios are much more common.
Something tells me that if we were talking about a more media friendly player with a more clean-cut image, this whole incident would have been spun differently. We’d hear about Iverson’s competitive spirit, and how he knows when it is time to quit. There would be talk about how he holds himself to the highest standards and refuses to lower those standards even if it means losing out on millions of dollars that he could collect by opting not to retire. (On the flip side of that, I wonder what would happen if Iverson continued to play until he reached his Hakeem on the Raptors stage. Would he be celebrated for supposedly loving basketball too much to quit? Or would he be berated for seemingly being in it just for the money?)
After all, that is what Iverson’s comments suggest. He didn’t come out saying, “I’m Allen Iverson, former league MVP with multiple scoring titles. I deserve to start.” He said:
"I'd rather retire before I do this again. I can't be effective playing this way. I'm not used to it. It's tough for me both mentally and physically. If I'm able to go out there, I should be able to get it done and I can't right now. It's my fault. I have to be able to overcome the adversity and do what I have to do. I just have to find a way to get it done. Not being 100 percent makes it harder and you can see that I'm not 100 percent."
Iverson expressed the greatest concern with his quality of play, not his ego. And on top of that he took all the blame. It would have been very easy for him to rant on about what he should be entitled to as a player of his stature, but he chose not to go that route.
Now surely his ego is still a factor here. All great players have massive egos and it would be naïve to assume Iverson’s ego isn’t bruised. But we are talking about a man who takes great pride in performing at the highest level, and he is genuinely concerned about his ability to continue to do so. What many observers have failed to recognize about Iverson throughout his career is how high he sets the bar for himself. One of his defining moments was the postgame press conference after Game 1 of the 2001 NBA Finals. The underdog 76ers had just dealt the Lakers their first loss of the postseason. Iverson had scored 48 points. Yet he stressed that there was nothing to be happy about and that the 76ers expected to win.
Several years later, after years of being entrenched in mediocrity, Iverson stressed his desire to win a championship with the 76ers and mentioned that he did not want to be a washed-up superstar joining an elite team in a bit role to chase a championship ring. He didn’t want any charity. He wanted to win, but he wanted to earn it himself. The legitimacy of “ring chasing” late in one’s career can be argued back and forth, but the bottom line is that Allen Iverson is a first-rate competitor.
It is true that the optimal situation would call for Iverson to prepare himself for a McAdooesque second act, but very few superstars can do that. Let’s cut him the slack we would cut any other superstar. While recognizing that ego is inevitably a big part of all of this, let us also recognize Iverson’s pride and competitiveness and drive for perfection. After all, that’s what we would do if he had a more mainstream, fan friendly image (like, say, Michael Jordan).
http://www.talkingpointfreesports.com/arti...g_starting_time
Nice article i found. Thought you guys would enjoy
Accepting a lesser role is always difficult for a superstar. Players who perform at a high level naturally expect the best from themselves. The difference is where each player chooses to draw the line.
Elgin Baylor, who had endured several operations on his knees over the course of his career, was 37 years old at the beginning of the 1971-72 season. He lacked the energy and explosiveness to fit into new coach Bill Sharman’s fastbreak gameplan and would have had to accept a limited reserve role. It was a difficult thing to ask of Baylor, considered the greatest forward the game had seen and perhaps the father of modern basketball. Baylor retired nine games into the season (without having played on a championship team), and ironically the Lakers immediately went on a 33-game winning streak and went on to win the championship.
Magic Johnson struggled to fit in with a younger generation of players during his ill-fated comeback midway through the 1995-96 season. After years of directing every aspect of the offense, he found it difficult to cede those responsibilities. No longer the superstar he was in his prime, he didn’t command the same respect as he once did, and his efforts to lead his younger teammates were unsuccessful. Johnson would retire for good after the season.
By contrast, some superstars have continued their careers in lesser roles in spite of how difficult it may have been for them. Bob McAdoo, for instance, was once the league MVP and scoring champ with the Buffalo Braves. At the prime of his career he was traded to the New York Knicks, where he was supposed to be a savior for a declining team in search of talent. McAdoo continued to put up stellar numbers but was unable to halt New York’s decline. He then had stops in Boston, Detroit, and New Jersey. In each place McAdoo came into a losing, dysfunctional organization. He kept putting up numbers, but became seen as damaged goods due to injuries and the mediocrity of his teams. McAdoo was then acquired by the Lakers, who asked him to come off the bench. He later acknowledged that the new role was very difficult for him to deal with, but it proved to be successful as the Lakers immediately won a championship with McAdoo averaging 17 ppg and 7 rpg during the 1982 playoffs.
Other greats may have played too long. Patrick Ewing and Hakeem Olajuwon embarrassed themselves with bit roles at the ends of their careers on the Magic and Raptors, respectively. Even their biggest fans cringe when they think of their final days in uniform.
Most of the “experts” who are criticizing Iverson and most of the GMs who may be interested in signing him during the offseason would like for Iverson to do what McAdoo did. But the fact is McAdoo is the exception, not the rule. The list of Hall-of-Fame caliber players who have been able to make successful transitions to the bench is very, very short. The Elgin/Magic and Ewing/Hakeem scenarios are much more common.
Something tells me that if we were talking about a more media friendly player with a more clean-cut image, this whole incident would have been spun differently. We’d hear about Iverson’s competitive spirit, and how he knows when it is time to quit. There would be talk about how he holds himself to the highest standards and refuses to lower those standards even if it means losing out on millions of dollars that he could collect by opting not to retire. (On the flip side of that, I wonder what would happen if Iverson continued to play until he reached his Hakeem on the Raptors stage. Would he be celebrated for supposedly loving basketball too much to quit? Or would he be berated for seemingly being in it just for the money?)
After all, that is what Iverson’s comments suggest. He didn’t come out saying, “I’m Allen Iverson, former league MVP with multiple scoring titles. I deserve to start.” He said:
"I'd rather retire before I do this again. I can't be effective playing this way. I'm not used to it. It's tough for me both mentally and physically. If I'm able to go out there, I should be able to get it done and I can't right now. It's my fault. I have to be able to overcome the adversity and do what I have to do. I just have to find a way to get it done. Not being 100 percent makes it harder and you can see that I'm not 100 percent."
Iverson expressed the greatest concern with his quality of play, not his ego. And on top of that he took all the blame. It would have been very easy for him to rant on about what he should be entitled to as a player of his stature, but he chose not to go that route.
Now surely his ego is still a factor here. All great players have massive egos and it would be naïve to assume Iverson’s ego isn’t bruised. But we are talking about a man who takes great pride in performing at the highest level, and he is genuinely concerned about his ability to continue to do so. What many observers have failed to recognize about Iverson throughout his career is how high he sets the bar for himself. One of his defining moments was the postgame press conference after Game 1 of the 2001 NBA Finals. The underdog 76ers had just dealt the Lakers their first loss of the postseason. Iverson had scored 48 points. Yet he stressed that there was nothing to be happy about and that the 76ers expected to win.
Several years later, after years of being entrenched in mediocrity, Iverson stressed his desire to win a championship with the 76ers and mentioned that he did not want to be a washed-up superstar joining an elite team in a bit role to chase a championship ring. He didn’t want any charity. He wanted to win, but he wanted to earn it himself. The legitimacy of “ring chasing” late in one’s career can be argued back and forth, but the bottom line is that Allen Iverson is a first-rate competitor.
It is true that the optimal situation would call for Iverson to prepare himself for a McAdooesque second act, but very few superstars can do that. Let’s cut him the slack we would cut any other superstar. While recognizing that ego is inevitably a big part of all of this, let us also recognize Iverson’s pride and competitiveness and drive for perfection. After all, that’s what we would do if he had a more mainstream, fan friendly image (like, say, Michael Jordan).
http://www.talkingpointfreesports.com/arti...g_starting_time
Nice article i found. Thought you guys would enjoy