Winning and Losing

By Jared Trexler

Winning puts a band aid on all problems. It masks faults and magnifies success. Locker room blowups are seen as motivational tools. Outward fire is called passion.

Losing rips that band aid off to loud screams and open wounds. Locker room blowups spell trouble. Outward fire is called frustration.

A warrior, one accustomed to winning every battle, will never accept losing. Tolerate it. Understand it. Swallow it like cough medicine.

That's why we are where we are. The Sixers can't win for no other reason than the collection of crippled veterans and young role players surrounding their embattled star.

It shouldn't be anything new for Allen Iverson. He's played his entire 10-plus year career in the City of Brotherly Love without an adequate supporting cast.

For MJ's Horace Grant there was Iverson's Derrick Coleman. For Hakeem the Dream's Clyde Drexler there was Iverson's Eric Snow.

Iverson's shot clock in NBA life is ticking toward its conclusion. Individual success has already etched his place at the top of Sixers basketball lure. The hunger for bigger and better, jewelry that will define his legacy in Springfield drives his will and his way.

He wants it so bad that looking at Kyle Korver to his left and Samuel Dalembert to his right has to piss him off. After 10 years of playing nearly every game, with career averages of 28.1 points, 6.1 assists and 2.3 steals, THIS is the thanks he gets.

Team chairman Ed Snider stood in front of a group of reporters Friday night and stated, "We want our young players to grow. We hoped Allen would be part of that."

A veteran who has made Snider millions doesn't deserve to play out his illustrious career as a babysitter. He deserves to exit as a champion.

Can Iverson be a bastard sometimes? You bet. He doesn't fully understand the gravity of his position in society nor does he read between the fine lines of his job description.

However, he is one hell of a player. I contend he's the greatest player in Sixers history. Wilt wasn't here long enough. Dr. J was an acrobatic NBA icon, but he wasn't as good as long while carrying the full weight of a franchise like Iverson.

AI doesn't want to lose anymore. While his ego brought delusions of grandeur that he could carry a young team to the promised land in the mediocre Atlantic Division, defeat finally brought sense on the United Center floor this past week.

The warrior looked defeated. Lost. He finally grasped how bad the players around him were.

Playing with Paul Pierce? KG? Iverson deserves as much after a career spent on the brink of excellence....and exhaustion. He played that hard night in and night out.

We are where we are for only a little longer. Then we can take a fine-tooth comb and analyze Iverson's career in Philadelphia.

Hopefully, he'll be winning somewhere else as the Sixers race for a lottery pick. He deserves that much.