Written by Zach Harper | 02 April 2009

I'm an extremely competitive person when it comes to anything. When it comes to writing, basketball, getting my HD camcorder from Best Buy, or anything else I'm a relentless, stubborn attack of an unwillingness to lose.

Back when I used to play basketball three to four hours per day while spending five to six hours of my nightly routine at a gym (big time social life, I know), I would go up against all sorts of players. Teenagers younger than me, young adults far more physically developed than me, and middle-aged guys who used to play in high school that were trying to prove they still had it were the three most common types of people that I would play with and against on the hardwood. And since I'm an extremely competitive person, I hated to lose and would often take the task of winning on my back and try to will my team to get to the next game as winners. And most of the time it worked.

A tactic that I often used to psyche myself up when the team and myself needed a boost of energy was trash-talking. From back and forth with my older sister and always trying to one-up my friends with a funny comment, I've developed a pretty quick wit that would have helped me fit right into the writing team of Sports Night. So when I trash-talked, it was usually pretty good stuff that would frustrate my opponents and give me a psychological edge. It wasn't necessarily about making them angry. It was more of a motivational tool for myself. I was basically Sacramento's version of Billy Hoyle.

And one that often got to the inner frustration of the middle-aged player still trying to prove something was as the trash-talking began and we started to get into it verbally, I would make a play, score, or get a defensive stop and start singing the chorus to Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days." It was a way to remind them that I was younger, better, and more physically apt to dominate them no matter how good they thought they used to be. And it worked. It worked almost too well because it nearly caused a riot a few times. And somewhere inside them, it left the thought that maybe they were too old to keep playing against younger guys like myself. 

And that begs the question of, "when should I retire?" that professional athletes often throw around in the off-season. Michael Jordan struggled with it. It's been well-documented that Brett Favre changes his mind on an hourly basis about retirement. And now Allen Iverson has brought it up at the age of 33. But his potential retirement isn't out of inability to do his job or an unwillingness to take the punishment on a nightly basis. His is out of pride, bravado, and ego that makes him believe that it would be an insult to have him coming off the bench for a contender.

Now, some of this has to do with him adjusting to returning from a back injury and working with Michael Curry and the Pistons by coming off the bench. When asked about coming off the bench since returning a couple of games ago, A.I. stated that it was tough for him to come into the game rather than starting because of the mental aspect and the back injury. He tipped his hat to players who are effective at coming off the bench. But then added this precarious statement:

"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."

Knowing that Allen Iverson doesn't say things just to say them, that's kind of alarming to NBA followers who like Iverson and his fans that defend him to the death. The fact that he'd rather retire than come off the bench and try to be the perfect weapon as an unstoppable scorer in the second unit throws up some warning flags for me. He's clearly uncomfortable playing off the bench so far and the numbers show it. He's averaging 7.6 points, 2.6 assists, and shooting just 36% from the field since missing 16 games with a back injury.

He's had a down season in a system that is slow-paced and not designed around getting him the ball and letting him figure out a way to score. Actually, to say he's having a down season is an understatement. He's had by far the worst season of his career across the board. His scoring is at a career-low of 17.5 points per game. Before this season, he'd never averaged fewer than 22 per game and that was in his second season, more than a decade ago. And at the age of 33, it's hard to think that he'll sign a long-term deal in this economy for him to be a featured player. In fact, the best way to extend his career, win a title, and further grow his legacy is to become that role-playing, sixth man scorer off the bench for a team that is a piece or two away.

But it doesn't sound like he's willing to do so. He's more apt to retire early and go out in a Barry Sanders style than to admit that he doesn't have what it takes to be a no-brainer start at the shooting guard position for a team with championship aspirations.

Perhaps, he's still stuck in his glory days, which are starting to pass his super stardom by.  

< Prev		Next >