Questions, and The Answer

Is AI's return to the Sixers a good thing? Yes! No! Maybe!

by E. James Beale

Editor's note: As this newspaper went to press, the 76ers had reportedly offered Allen Iverson a one-year, non-guaranteed contract, but AI had not yet accepted or declined the deal.

If the 76ers' quandary over whether to bring the recently "retired" Allen Iverson back to Philadelphia were a basketball decision — and let's be perfectly clear that, no matter what Ed Snider says, it's not — it would be easy: No.

For starters, there's the downside: In order to develop, the team's young nucleus needs minutes and shots — two things that Iverson has made clear he won't live without. There are other problems, too. AI would fill a leadership void, which sounds nice but isn't. If this team is ever to become contender-worthy, it'll have to find its own alpha dog. When AI is on your team, your team isn't looking for another leader. And, given AI's lack of defensive acumen and the time he's spent away from the court — recall that he's never exactly been celebrated for his practice habits, so some rust is likely — it's at least plausible that he simply wouldn't help much. Not only would AI hamper the youth movement, he could actually make the Sixers worse in the here and now.

And that might be the best-case scenario. If Iverson could somehow manage to turn back the clock and emerge as the offensive dynamo we remember him as, the 76ers will still be a vintage Elton Brand away from being good. With a record of 5-13 at press time, the 76ers simply aren't adequate enough for even the MVP version of Iverson to propel them to elite status. If Iverson came to play, the difference in the end of the season might be no "better" than the difference between the sixth pick in the 2010 draft and the 13th.

Despite all this, the Philadelphia 76ers should bring The Answer back home. They need him, and as a fan, you need him, too.

The anti-AI camp will point out that the only reason the organization is even thinking about bringing him on is its desire to sell tickets. Of course it is, but that's a ludicrous talking point. Even setting aside the financial aspect — not that an organization that lost a cringe-inducing $20 million-plus last year should ever do that — ticket sales are an honest gauge of interest. Right now 76er fans are either the least or second-least interested people in the nation. Rightfully so, too; this team isn't interesting. It's a defensive team with an offensive coach, with no one expected to emerge as an All-NBA talent and no foreseeable cap room. Their most expensive player's body hurts. Their "star" has never even been snubbed for the All Star game. Teams without a chance to win need a story to put asses in seats — like the fun-to-watch Suns, or the upside-fuelled Thunder, or the gimmicky Rockets.

The 76ers don't have one. They know it, too: Sammy Dalembert openly jokes about other cities he'd be fine playing in, Jrue Holiday admits he doesn't have people to hang out with and Thad Young, who last year became so endearing — in part because he always looked like he was having so much fun — hasn't smiled in weeks. The locker room feels like detention. It's the quintessential "13 cabs" team.

The owners are bleeding money, the players are unhappy and the fans don't exist. The status quo is unacceptable.

Allen Iverson, for all his warts, breaks that status quo. Bringing him back would be the most dynamic move the team has made since, well, letting him go. Maybe AI galvanizes the team. He's a legitimate NBA icon, and it is certainly plausible that the young guys on the team will want to prove to him that they can play. Maybe the rest of the team hates that a past-his-prime star comes in and wants to take over, and they become galvanized against him. Maybe playing in front of more than the eight random dudes who show up now instills some pride. Maybe none of that happens. Maybe AI blows up and leaves after three games like he did in Memphis. I'd tune in to find out. And so would you.

Last week, late in an 86-100 loss to the Atlanta Hawks, a small but vocal group broke out into a chant: "We Want AI." It was the loudest, strongest, clearest cheer of the night. The players heard. Now, I'm not suggesting that the 76ers need to base their personnel decision on the wants of a half-dozen drunken fans, but maybe it's time to take notice of the silence that let those fans have such a vociferous say.

E. James Beale puts asses in seats. E-mail him at e.james.beale@citypaper.net.