Inch for inch, pound for pound, Chicago’s own Isiah Thomas was the best and toughest basketball player ever. He stood 6 feet 1 inch. He weighed 185 pounds.
But he was two inches taller and at least 30 pounds heavier than the freak of nature who’s threatening his “best small guard” legacy. In Philadelphia, Isiah is no longer the final answer to that question. The Answer is.
Night after night I experience two phenomena I never could have imagined as a 5-11, 155-pound high-school player. My cable-TV package allows me to watch any NBA game I choose. My first choice is always watching a 5-11, 155-pounder go soaring, finger-rolling, glass-kissing and dunking over 7-foot, 300-pounders as if he’s the Son of Flubber.
In an era of Shaquille O’Neal, Mark McGwire and Randy Moss–of bigger, stronger, faster–dynamite has arrived in the smallest conceivable package. David has become Goliath. So far Allen “The Answer” Iverson is the NBA’s MVP. His 76ers have the best record, 29-9, including Wednesday’s 99-88 bullying of the Bulls.
Fred Hoiberg made the mistake of making Iverson mad with a flagrant foul. Iverson went for 43 points on 15-of-25 shooting and 11-of-12 free throws and added four steals to his league-leading total.
Thursday I asked Isiah if he’s impressed. By phone he noted he can’t speak quite as freely because he coaches the Pacers now.
But he did say: “He’s one of the few players worth the price of admission. He’s truly great in terms of stamina and the ability to compete every night. What gets him over the top is that he’s a great athlete who will never say die. He’s tough and fearless. There’s not a thing on the court he can’t do if he wants to do it.”
Which pretty much described Isiah Thomas, right? “Yes,” he said.
Yet I couldn’t remember Isiah continually outquicking defenders, flashing down the lane, launching himself through a forest of flailing branches and making two-point withdrawals from the bank.
Now the competitor flashed in Isiah. “In my day, if you drove the lane like that, you got hurt,” he said. “Different game, different era. Now you can’t hand-check the way you used to [on defense], which makes all those dribble moves on the perimeter much easier. It’s not like you have Michael Jordan at 6-6 putting his hands on you.
“But that’s to take nothing away from Iverson. I can tell you love to watch him. He’s as great an entertainer as he is a competitor.”
Fans in other cities once circled the dates that Jordan’s Bulls came to town. Now Bulls fans surely have circled March 14, Iverson’s next visit.
And to think I once engaged in an argument with Bob Ryan on ESPN about whether Iverson should go No. 1 in the 1996 draft. I said it was against my hoops religion to use the first pick on a 5-11 gunner without a consistent outside shot. Rudy Martzke made it a clip-and-save item in his USA Today column.
And top pick Iverson taught himself a sort of fallaway three-point shot that makes him virtually unguardable.
No, he still doesn’t have Isiah’s sweet stroke or shot selection. He still can’t make teammates better the way Isiah could. But Isiah didn’t quite have Iverson’s quickness or spring. Their pain threshold is a tossup.
Iverson recently separated his shoulder. The trainer said typical recovery time was two to four weeks, but for Iverson one to three. He missed one game.
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A writer initially as skeptical as I was, Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Bill Lyon, said: “I’ve been tough on him, but in my 44 years [of observing sports] he’s as fearless an athlete as I’ve ever seen. He and Larry Brown have been at each other’s throats, but he’s really learning to surrender the ball when it makes sense.”
Yet Iverson won’t lift weights. Lyon estimates he weighs “no more than 150. Kids love him because he isn’t much bigger than they are. He’s Peter Pan.”
Well, a totally tattooed Peter Pan. Despite his troubled past and troubling entourage, you must respect this about Iverson’s game: He doesn’t taunt or trash-talk, and he plays as hard on defense as offense.
Yet if Isiah didn’t have to coach against him, you suspect he’d say: “Legacies are made in the playoffs. Let’s see how he handles himself the next couple of postseasons.”
Instead Isiah merely cautioned that “the real basketball starts in the second half.” But quite convincingly he concluded: “It’s an honor to be asked how we compare.”