GREENBURGH, N.Y. -- Allen Iverson skipped a practice. Stephon Marbury skipped two games. Beyond that blurry similarity in occupational negligence, the comparisons should end there.
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| Will Pistons coach Michael Curry and Allen Iverson patch things up? (Getty Images) |
One has a lot more talent than the other, which is something that shouldn't be overlooked.
But it goes beyond that. Iverson, nearing the end of a sensational and controversial Hall of Fame career, entered the season with a $21.9 million expiring contract. The Nuggets were able to trade him to the Pistons for Chauncey Billups, a very capable point guard who has led them to a 9-3 record since the trade.
Marbury entered the season in the last year of an identical max contract, and yet the Knicks can't trade him for an ownership stake in Steve & Barry's, which sold the Starbury line of shoes and clothing before filing bankruptcy this month.
Part of the reason is that Mike D'Antoni and Donnie Walsh -- to steal a phrase from the outgoing president -- severely misunderestimated the chaos Marbury is capable of spawning. But a bigger reason is that Marbury, with two known exceptions in his 13-year career, has never learned the skill that has given Iverson the ability to find new coaches to torment and new cities to embrace with each "fresh start" and "change of scenery."
When Iverson has screwed up -- and he's had a lot of practice, so to speak -- he's always said he's sorry. Whether you believe him or not, or whether you think he will ever learn from his mistakes, isn't really important. The fact is, he has learned that people have a tendency to forget about your irresponsible actions when you follow them up with a dose of humility and remorse.
Iverson has run off more coaches than Marbury has, but there has never been a shortage of new ones willing to step up and embrace him -- while clutching a bottle of Tylenol to deaden the pain. Welcome to the fraternity, Michael Curry. Yes, that is a trapped door beneath your feet.
Iverson was reviled from the day he set foot in the NBA, booed like a criminal when he won MVP of the All-Star rookie game in Cleveland almost 12 years ago. As he travels around the league now, he hears applause. His stubborn, non-conformist ways have become almost endearing.
Sure, he skips a practice now and then -- who among us wouldn't, if permitted? -- but he still brings it like nobody else when the ball goes up at 7:30 p.m. Even after all the years of pounding -- and partying -- nobody plays harder.
Even after the hateful rap lyrics and concealed weapons charges, even after infamously skipping a game -- while injured, mind you -- for the Sixers' fan appreciation night, there is one thing about Iverson: If healthy, he would never turn down a chance to play. Or rather, he would never turn down a chance to play without apologizing for it, without throwing himself under the bus for the sake of preserving his ability to make among the finest livings in the world.
Which brings us back to Marbury.
Last Friday night in Milwaukee, with the Knicks short-handed after two trades, D'Antoni told Marbury he could play for the first time all season if he wanted to. Marbury said he wasn't interested, shoving D'Antoni's line about "going in a different direction" back in his face.
