By Jack Kerwin | ydkjack1@gmail.com
He is a self-absorbed, immature a-hole.
This is news to people?
Not for nothing, the laughter, if not flat-out guffaws, being heaved in the direction of those who have genuflected at the mere mention of Allen Iverson now acting somewhat miffed by his recent irresponsible behavior is more than warranted.
Yo, wake up. You grew up. D-bags such as your bromantic love interest, umm, no. They never do.
We don’t need an all-out investigation headed by Columbo to determine that, or to somehow pretzel-logic his fetish for casinos as the excuse du jour and reason for sympathy.
The latest act of “all about me” A.I., which saw the former Sixers fan favorite blow off a scheduled Big3 League appearance in Dallas this past weekend much like he did in Philly less than a month ago, is merely another example of an individual who has shown no concept of accountability, or concern for others, at any point since he became a prime recruit back in high school a quarter century ago.
Well, unless there was some canned, staged event or team-fueled PR BS that served to put him in a positive light and didn’t cut into any of his late-night drinking or gambling binges. Then he might – MIGHT – get up off his keister and “invest” a moment or two of his precious time.
Remember those good ol’ days of your youth, when you’d watch him flex his verbal muscles about practice being too valued by his Hall of Fame coach? When you’d watch him make George “Chucker” Constanza seem like a pass-first player? When you’d watch Your Team, Your Town, Your 76ers construct a squad of defensive-minded, never-shoot minions to cater to his massive ego?
Fun times. Lotta entertainment. Lotta wins, too.
Lotta substance?
Kinda hard to nail that one down in the positive category.
Even the one memory-making trip to the NBA Finals driven by Iverson, really, was nothing more than a flash-in-the-pan, lightning-in-a-bottle deal. There was never any chance, even with getting to that stage, of the Sixers becoming champions during his run in Philly.
That first-game stunner in L.A. was nice, but strictly a precursor to the four-game mauling at the hands of the Lakers that quickly ensued.
This legacy he has tarnished of late … what was it?
Take away the teenage girl-like attraction to his stardom, heavily fueled by an ever-misplaced admiration for his acting like the spoiled child he was, and you’re left with one incredibly gifted athlete who forever marched to his own drum, and everyone else be damned.
That hasn’t changed. Nor is it ever going to change.
Self-absorbed, immature a-holes never do.
He is a self-absorbed, immature a-hole.
This is news to people?
Not for nothing, the laughter, if not flat-out guffaws, being heaved in the direction of those who have genuflected at the mere mention of Allen Iverson now acting somewhat miffed by his recent irresponsible behavior is more than warranted.
Yo, wake up. You grew up. D-bags such as your bromantic love interest, umm, no. They never do.
We don’t need an all-out investigation headed by Columbo to determine that, or to somehow pretzel-logic his fetish for casinos as the excuse du jour and reason for sympathy.
The latest act of “all about me” A.I., which saw the former Sixers fan favorite blow off a scheduled Big3 League appearance in Dallas this past weekend much like he did in Philly less than a month ago, is merely another example of an individual who has shown no concept of accountability, or concern for others, at any point since he became a prime recruit back in high school a quarter century ago.
Well, unless there was some canned, staged event or team-fueled PR BS that served to put him in a positive light and didn’t cut into any of his late-night drinking or gambling binges. Then he might – MIGHT – get up off his keister and “invest” a moment or two of his precious time.
Remember those good ol’ days of your youth, when you’d watch him flex his verbal muscles about practice being too valued by his Hall of Fame coach? When you’d watch him make George “Chucker” Constanza seem like a pass-first player? When you’d watch Your Team, Your Town, Your 76ers construct a squad of defensive-minded, never-shoot minions to cater to his massive ego?
Fun times. Lotta entertainment. Lotta wins, too.
Lotta substance?
Kinda hard to nail that one down in the positive category.
Even the one memory-making trip to the NBA Finals driven by Iverson, really, was nothing more than a flash-in-the-pan, lightning-in-a-bottle deal. There was never any chance, even with getting to that stage, of the Sixers becoming champions during his run in Philly.
That first-game stunner in L.A. was nice, but strictly a precursor to the four-game mauling at the hands of the Lakers that quickly ensued.
This legacy he has tarnished of late … what was it?
Take away the teenage girl-like attraction to his stardom, heavily fueled by an ever-misplaced admiration for his acting like the spoiled child he was, and you’re left with one incredibly gifted athlete who forever marched to his own drum, and everyone else be damned.
That hasn’t changed. Nor is it ever going to change.
Self-absorbed, immature a-holes never do.
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