Thoughts?
David Stern wants Allen Iverson Dead
By Donald Christopher
January 9, 2007
"Art is not a seperate activity, in itself or for itself: it is a social activity, a technique of living, a handicraft in fact."
-Leopold Senghor, African poet
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=100 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD>
</TD></TR><TR><TD class="smallText boldText">Allen Iverson battles the perception of being bad for business in the NBA.</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
In the corporate powerhouse known as the NBA, its commissioner, the affirmative David Stern, wants Allen Iverson dead. Not deceased as in the Godfather of Soul James Brown (rest in peace) but dead as in the boxing career of Mike Tyson. He wants the somewhat detrimental image that the urban icon ad troubled NBA superstar represents to be done and completely over with.
The party is over. There's nothing happening. Go home.
Oh, it's nothing personal. It's just that the NBA is a long-standing enterprise which generates billions of dollars and as the case with any business, the product itself always has to be protected.
Perhaps originally, Stern underestimated the global impact that Iverson, an exquisite product of the Hip Hop Generation, would have upon his exuberant arrival into the NBA. When the "powers that be" instructively inserted the name Allen Iverson into its ever-present and money-driven marketing machine, it imminently failed to properly analyze the intangibles of a person built on being respected not for what others want him to be but simply for being himself. You see, Iverson is the definition of real. Not how the term is defined in Webster's Dictionary, but how it is widely perceived amongst today's generation -- Generation Y. Real, meaning what you see is what you get, and not attempting to be anything other than who or what he matter-of-factly is. No hidden clauses. No fine print. No unanswered questions. There is nothing false nor fake about him. Simply put, when you look at Iverson, what you see is the unsolicited truth. He is also the reason why fellow NBA superstar Kobe Bryant is widely considered as being fake.
With Iverson, it is never about being accepted by mainstream America because, as with many beliefs of urban America, it's not as if they are accepted anyway. As urbanized as they come, Iverson brought along the street-born culture with him into the NBA. Now it's highly impossible that Stern can change an entire culture without suffering the same fate as Saddam Hussein, but he can possibly change the manner in which his product is affected by culture.
When it appeared as if everyone and their momma was swinging from the...um, gym shorts of Stern favorite Michael Jordan, there was a playground-flavored rookie in Iverson who arrived into the league flaunting the persona of America's Most Wanted. And never afraid to say whatever he wanted. True to his gangsta, he seemingly "took" the spotlight from Jordan. The upstart rookie's double-crossover administered on His Airness during a game may have had something to do with it. Iverson "shook" MJ. The move made the ever-popular Jordan look silly, and it also signaled a braid-less Iverson's arrival by showing the world that he had some junk in his trunk as well. The NBA wasn't going to give the spotlight to Iverson; he was going to have to take it. And he did.
Unlike the cat that always showed up at the playground looking like a true baller until you find out after having picked him first on your team that he has little or no game, Iverson does have game. Mad Game. He can hold his own with anyone in the league. A prolific scorer with suberb handles, he possesses the skills to "take you out" on the basketball court. During the filming of the Reebok commercial marketing his A6 gym shoes, rapper Jadakiss emphatically stated, "The league implemented a zone to try and stop him." Pound for pound, Iverson is arguably the best player in the game.
Iverson is also a definitive illustration of the Hip Hop Generation's infatuation with both force and change -- the wild romance with independence. A generation which believes only in what it can see. His relevance gets swiftly to the sobering reality of career sanctioned "freedom" -- the ambivalent social movement that seems to undermine the dream of NBA success. His blatant emergence symbolized a compounding presence, one of, "We're here..." In that churning atmosphere, every dreamy-eyed kid who spends hours on a playground knows the excitement of this kind of culture quake. Likewise, there was a great enthusiam in the way a player with the talent level of Iverson connected with his generation's public feeling of what young people had in their hearts which society had previously ignored -- you don't have to respect us, but we don't have to respect you either.
Surely, there will come along those who may emulate the walking emblem of contemporary chaos that Iverson is, but just as the case with hip hop music, there will be nothing remotely like the real thing. For instance, rap artist The Game may entertain you, but he doesn't quite grab you with the same force that late gangsta rapper Eazy-E (Eric Wright) succeeded in when his voice glared through your stereo speakers informing you of the ills and pitfalls of street life in urban America. Eazy-E simply lived his life and spoke about it in his lyrics while The Game is essentially given an account of the expressions of Eazy E. While the narrator of a story can be just as powerful as the writer, it's the person who creates that demands your respect. The Game can only reminds you of Eazy. Others will only remind you of Iverson. Again, there is nothing like the real thing.
Iverson's personification of today's generation is evident by the amount of love and excitement shown for him. His coming of age made the NBA a more hip environment, or as Jada so eloquently put it, "He brought the hood to the game and they love him for the braids and tats."
Allen Iverson is used to controversy following him. As both a high school basketball and football standout at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia, the 17 year old was found guilty of a felony charge of "maiming-by-mob" and was sentenced to five years in prison for striking a woman in the head with a chair during a bowling alley brawl which Iverson claim was started by racial slurs. Due to the received publicity the event garnered, he was eventually pardoned by then-Governor Douglas Wilder before the Virginia Court of Appeals overturned the conviction, citing insufficient evidence of his guilt, which allowed him to attend Georgetown University and presume his basketball career. As a member of the Hoyas, you would think he would've gone out of his way to avoid the public eye. Not Iverson. As a freshman, the phenom star drove a Mercedes-Benz around campus. So much from staying away from the spotlight.
In 1996, after just two years in college, Iverson was first player selected in the NBA Draft by the Philadelphia 76ers. Despite his free-spirited nature and past run-ins with the law, the Sixers annointed the barely six foot, 165 pound player as the savior of the franchise. The City of Philadelphia knew of the incredible talent they were getting, but little did they know they would also be receiving a young man who would later come to define and personify his generation.
At first, Iverson would draw the criticism of NBA great Charles Barkley, who ridiculed the flamboyant rookie for his attitude, his style of dress, and the large entourage which appeared everywhere the rookie was present. Barkley scorned him for his behavior but little did the former bad boy Barkley or anyone know that, yes, this is the way Iverson intended to be. Due to his defiance, he was labeled as having no respect for the game.
It turned out that the player affectionately nicknamed The Answer hadn't even unpacked his bags yet. On the list of his table of contents, it appeared he was somewhere between the Introduction and Chapter One. Unlike most rookies that enter into the league looking to earn the respect of his peers, he hardly looked to gain their respect. Parallel to the brazen attitude of his generation, Iverson boldly concurred that it was his respect that needed to be earned. He wasn't going to change his strong-minded character because of something as superficial as money. To change due to financial gain would be considered as selling out. And there's no abandoning of one's principles for reasons of expedience in the young man affectionately nicknamed "Iso," as in isolation -- a play designed to give a basketball player the oppurtunity to "take his man off the dribble." He was perfectly comfortable with his ability and who he was. Sell out for whom? What? Money comes and goes, but he is what lies inside of his heart, forever. In that aspect, Iverson became somewhat of an martyr for his generation -- extremely talented, yet unwilling to adhere to the standard mold.
With the help of being awarded the Most Valuable Player at the 2001 NBA All-Star Game and an outstanding performance during the NBA Finals in the same year, the league was put on notice that Iverson had arrived and wasn't going anywhere. Not only that, but even the negative publicity he would garner would add to his legend -- the bold attempt at a gangsta rap CD which drew criticism from Stern and several activist groups due to made derogatory remarks, and the well-documented love-hate relationship with former Sixers coach Larry Brown.
What was not understood by the powers that be was that when one is perceived as a martyr, or a person who is made to suffer greatly for their beliefs, such negative publicity is often seen as being heroic in the eyes of his admirers, as was the case with the troubled late rap artist Tupac Shakur. The late, great writer and ESPN columnist Ralph Wiley once described Iverson as being the "Tupac of this generation of NBA players." As a member of this emotional and under-developed era, I can note striking similarities between the two. Both are disturbing yet fascinating, extremely talented, naive, and in their own eccentric way, remarkably sophisticated. Both offered a sea of confusion that each man always had to try and swim through. The only difference being that Stern wants Iverson dead, and Shakur is dead. Apparently murdered by the very image he glorified in his music.
According to Stern and his newly-implemented rules and imposed policies, a professional basketball player should adhere to a certain professionalism. And rightfully so. No matter how many oohs and ahhs are drawn when Iverson splits four defenders and finishes under the basket with an off-the-side-of-the-backboard left-handed shot, the NBA is a commerical organization. Nowadays, with so many young fans collectively establishing their sports heroes as role models and thus emulating their manner, perhaps even following in their footsteps, it's essential that the league puts forth a better image. Isn't it quite ironic how it was the same once-troubled star Barkley who once boldly stood up in front of a TV camera and adamantly stated, "I am not a role model"?
Stern doesn't want there to be any confusion or doubt concerning his stance. Contrary to what anyone may believe, he has made it clear that the NBA no longer condones the portrayed image that is synonomous with the Hip Hop Generation. No sir! Get rid of the jerseys, the durag's, the baseball caps, the Cartier shades and the eye-popping jewelry. And tuck your shirt in while you're at it. In other words, you are professional basketball players, not rappers. No longer does he want to project anything other than a professional and efficient atmosphere. Never mind the fact that the long, baggy uniformed shorts worn by NBA players speaks of trend. That is besides the point. What is important is that when Stern attends games, he is no longer bombarded with a number of notable players who looked as if they just stepped out gangsta rapper 50 Cent's video for "In The Club."
To the younger generation, this attitude and fashion can be thoroughly appealing, but to the older generation, the nature itself can become completely frightenening. While public schools and workplaces have installed their own policies towards such style of dress amongst their students and employees, the NBA has now followed suit. If there was some way that Stern could implement a policy that required all tattoos to be removed without sparking cries of racism from great civil rights leaders such as Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton (sic), I'm sure he would. Although I am certain each man would "have the big one" if their young children were to suddenly arrive home one day with their bodies completely covered in tattoos. Not saying that Stern is racist or that Jackson and Sharpton are hypocrites, but there is a smidget of salt even in Kool-Aid. Above all, I believe Stern is merely making an effort to clean up the product's image and make it more appealing to ticket buyers, worldwide viewers, sponsors and investors -- money still talks. And with his ideals of expanding the NBA overseas in the future and decreasing ticket sales, it's fair to say he acknowledged that the league's image should be more business-like and less "culture-oriented." Yes, the almighty dollar has spoken.
As for the decline in quality of the NBA, it's impossible to truly say what played the most significant role. It could be other factors such as but not limited to:
The image once represented commercial appeal, but now it has become bad for business.
David Stern wants Allen Iverson Dead
By Donald Christopher
January 9, 2007
"Art is not a seperate activity, in itself or for itself: it is a social activity, a technique of living, a handicraft in fact."
-Leopold Senghor, African poet
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=100 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD>
</TD></TR><TR><TD class="smallText boldText">Allen Iverson battles the perception of being bad for business in the NBA.</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>In the corporate powerhouse known as the NBA, its commissioner, the affirmative David Stern, wants Allen Iverson dead. Not deceased as in the Godfather of Soul James Brown (rest in peace) but dead as in the boxing career of Mike Tyson. He wants the somewhat detrimental image that the urban icon ad troubled NBA superstar represents to be done and completely over with.
The party is over. There's nothing happening. Go home.
Oh, it's nothing personal. It's just that the NBA is a long-standing enterprise which generates billions of dollars and as the case with any business, the product itself always has to be protected.
Perhaps originally, Stern underestimated the global impact that Iverson, an exquisite product of the Hip Hop Generation, would have upon his exuberant arrival into the NBA. When the "powers that be" instructively inserted the name Allen Iverson into its ever-present and money-driven marketing machine, it imminently failed to properly analyze the intangibles of a person built on being respected not for what others want him to be but simply for being himself. You see, Iverson is the definition of real. Not how the term is defined in Webster's Dictionary, but how it is widely perceived amongst today's generation -- Generation Y. Real, meaning what you see is what you get, and not attempting to be anything other than who or what he matter-of-factly is. No hidden clauses. No fine print. No unanswered questions. There is nothing false nor fake about him. Simply put, when you look at Iverson, what you see is the unsolicited truth. He is also the reason why fellow NBA superstar Kobe Bryant is widely considered as being fake.
With Iverson, it is never about being accepted by mainstream America because, as with many beliefs of urban America, it's not as if they are accepted anyway. As urbanized as they come, Iverson brought along the street-born culture with him into the NBA. Now it's highly impossible that Stern can change an entire culture without suffering the same fate as Saddam Hussein, but he can possibly change the manner in which his product is affected by culture.
When it appeared as if everyone and their momma was swinging from the...um, gym shorts of Stern favorite Michael Jordan, there was a playground-flavored rookie in Iverson who arrived into the league flaunting the persona of America's Most Wanted. And never afraid to say whatever he wanted. True to his gangsta, he seemingly "took" the spotlight from Jordan. The upstart rookie's double-crossover administered on His Airness during a game may have had something to do with it. Iverson "shook" MJ. The move made the ever-popular Jordan look silly, and it also signaled a braid-less Iverson's arrival by showing the world that he had some junk in his trunk as well. The NBA wasn't going to give the spotlight to Iverson; he was going to have to take it. And he did.
Unlike the cat that always showed up at the playground looking like a true baller until you find out after having picked him first on your team that he has little or no game, Iverson does have game. Mad Game. He can hold his own with anyone in the league. A prolific scorer with suberb handles, he possesses the skills to "take you out" on the basketball court. During the filming of the Reebok commercial marketing his A6 gym shoes, rapper Jadakiss emphatically stated, "The league implemented a zone to try and stop him." Pound for pound, Iverson is arguably the best player in the game.
Iverson is also a definitive illustration of the Hip Hop Generation's infatuation with both force and change -- the wild romance with independence. A generation which believes only in what it can see. His relevance gets swiftly to the sobering reality of career sanctioned "freedom" -- the ambivalent social movement that seems to undermine the dream of NBA success. His blatant emergence symbolized a compounding presence, one of, "We're here..." In that churning atmosphere, every dreamy-eyed kid who spends hours on a playground knows the excitement of this kind of culture quake. Likewise, there was a great enthusiam in the way a player with the talent level of Iverson connected with his generation's public feeling of what young people had in their hearts which society had previously ignored -- you don't have to respect us, but we don't have to respect you either.
Surely, there will come along those who may emulate the walking emblem of contemporary chaos that Iverson is, but just as the case with hip hop music, there will be nothing remotely like the real thing. For instance, rap artist The Game may entertain you, but he doesn't quite grab you with the same force that late gangsta rapper Eazy-E (Eric Wright) succeeded in when his voice glared through your stereo speakers informing you of the ills and pitfalls of street life in urban America. Eazy-E simply lived his life and spoke about it in his lyrics while The Game is essentially given an account of the expressions of Eazy E. While the narrator of a story can be just as powerful as the writer, it's the person who creates that demands your respect. The Game can only reminds you of Eazy. Others will only remind you of Iverson. Again, there is nothing like the real thing.
Iverson's personification of today's generation is evident by the amount of love and excitement shown for him. His coming of age made the NBA a more hip environment, or as Jada so eloquently put it, "He brought the hood to the game and they love him for the braids and tats."
Allen Iverson is used to controversy following him. As both a high school basketball and football standout at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia, the 17 year old was found guilty of a felony charge of "maiming-by-mob" and was sentenced to five years in prison for striking a woman in the head with a chair during a bowling alley brawl which Iverson claim was started by racial slurs. Due to the received publicity the event garnered, he was eventually pardoned by then-Governor Douglas Wilder before the Virginia Court of Appeals overturned the conviction, citing insufficient evidence of his guilt, which allowed him to attend Georgetown University and presume his basketball career. As a member of the Hoyas, you would think he would've gone out of his way to avoid the public eye. Not Iverson. As a freshman, the phenom star drove a Mercedes-Benz around campus. So much from staying away from the spotlight.
In 1996, after just two years in college, Iverson was first player selected in the NBA Draft by the Philadelphia 76ers. Despite his free-spirited nature and past run-ins with the law, the Sixers annointed the barely six foot, 165 pound player as the savior of the franchise. The City of Philadelphia knew of the incredible talent they were getting, but little did they know they would also be receiving a young man who would later come to define and personify his generation.
At first, Iverson would draw the criticism of NBA great Charles Barkley, who ridiculed the flamboyant rookie for his attitude, his style of dress, and the large entourage which appeared everywhere the rookie was present. Barkley scorned him for his behavior but little did the former bad boy Barkley or anyone know that, yes, this is the way Iverson intended to be. Due to his defiance, he was labeled as having no respect for the game.
It turned out that the player affectionately nicknamed The Answer hadn't even unpacked his bags yet. On the list of his table of contents, it appeared he was somewhere between the Introduction and Chapter One. Unlike most rookies that enter into the league looking to earn the respect of his peers, he hardly looked to gain their respect. Parallel to the brazen attitude of his generation, Iverson boldly concurred that it was his respect that needed to be earned. He wasn't going to change his strong-minded character because of something as superficial as money. To change due to financial gain would be considered as selling out. And there's no abandoning of one's principles for reasons of expedience in the young man affectionately nicknamed "Iso," as in isolation -- a play designed to give a basketball player the oppurtunity to "take his man off the dribble." He was perfectly comfortable with his ability and who he was. Sell out for whom? What? Money comes and goes, but he is what lies inside of his heart, forever. In that aspect, Iverson became somewhat of an martyr for his generation -- extremely talented, yet unwilling to adhere to the standard mold.
With the help of being awarded the Most Valuable Player at the 2001 NBA All-Star Game and an outstanding performance during the NBA Finals in the same year, the league was put on notice that Iverson had arrived and wasn't going anywhere. Not only that, but even the negative publicity he would garner would add to his legend -- the bold attempt at a gangsta rap CD which drew criticism from Stern and several activist groups due to made derogatory remarks, and the well-documented love-hate relationship with former Sixers coach Larry Brown.
What was not understood by the powers that be was that when one is perceived as a martyr, or a person who is made to suffer greatly for their beliefs, such negative publicity is often seen as being heroic in the eyes of his admirers, as was the case with the troubled late rap artist Tupac Shakur. The late, great writer and ESPN columnist Ralph Wiley once described Iverson as being the "Tupac of this generation of NBA players." As a member of this emotional and under-developed era, I can note striking similarities between the two. Both are disturbing yet fascinating, extremely talented, naive, and in their own eccentric way, remarkably sophisticated. Both offered a sea of confusion that each man always had to try and swim through. The only difference being that Stern wants Iverson dead, and Shakur is dead. Apparently murdered by the very image he glorified in his music.
According to Stern and his newly-implemented rules and imposed policies, a professional basketball player should adhere to a certain professionalism. And rightfully so. No matter how many oohs and ahhs are drawn when Iverson splits four defenders and finishes under the basket with an off-the-side-of-the-backboard left-handed shot, the NBA is a commerical organization. Nowadays, with so many young fans collectively establishing their sports heroes as role models and thus emulating their manner, perhaps even following in their footsteps, it's essential that the league puts forth a better image. Isn't it quite ironic how it was the same once-troubled star Barkley who once boldly stood up in front of a TV camera and adamantly stated, "I am not a role model"?
Stern doesn't want there to be any confusion or doubt concerning his stance. Contrary to what anyone may believe, he has made it clear that the NBA no longer condones the portrayed image that is synonomous with the Hip Hop Generation. No sir! Get rid of the jerseys, the durag's, the baseball caps, the Cartier shades and the eye-popping jewelry. And tuck your shirt in while you're at it. In other words, you are professional basketball players, not rappers. No longer does he want to project anything other than a professional and efficient atmosphere. Never mind the fact that the long, baggy uniformed shorts worn by NBA players speaks of trend. That is besides the point. What is important is that when Stern attends games, he is no longer bombarded with a number of notable players who looked as if they just stepped out gangsta rapper 50 Cent's video for "In The Club."
To the younger generation, this attitude and fashion can be thoroughly appealing, but to the older generation, the nature itself can become completely frightenening. While public schools and workplaces have installed their own policies towards such style of dress amongst their students and employees, the NBA has now followed suit. If there was some way that Stern could implement a policy that required all tattoos to be removed without sparking cries of racism from great civil rights leaders such as Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton (sic), I'm sure he would. Although I am certain each man would "have the big one" if their young children were to suddenly arrive home one day with their bodies completely covered in tattoos. Not saying that Stern is racist or that Jackson and Sharpton are hypocrites, but there is a smidget of salt even in Kool-Aid. Above all, I believe Stern is merely making an effort to clean up the product's image and make it more appealing to ticket buyers, worldwide viewers, sponsors and investors -- money still talks. And with his ideals of expanding the NBA overseas in the future and decreasing ticket sales, it's fair to say he acknowledged that the league's image should be more business-like and less "culture-oriented." Yes, the almighty dollar has spoken.
As for the decline in quality of the NBA, it's impossible to truly say what played the most significant role. It could be other factors such as but not limited to:
- The retirement of Michael Jordan
- The word "potential"
- Abnormous contracts
- Free agency
- Expansion
The image once represented commercial appeal, but now it has become bad for business.
was mentioned.
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