Iverson's Reality
By: Matthew Gordon
RealGM.com Writer
September 14, 2009 6:21 PM
Whenever a player joins a new team, people look back to the one he left. If the split was amicable, there might be an impromptu message board remembrance ceremony or something similar. In many cases, there’s even a rumor that the player could return someday.
Allen Iverson’s departure from the Pistons is not likely to fall into this category.
Only a few days after Iverson’s decision to sign a one-year deal with the Memphis Grizzlies , the RealGM Wiretap relayed the alleged assertion from Iverson’s business manager that the Pistons had lied to his client about his role with the team. What the Pistons told Iverson in a private meeting, and what Iverson said back to them, is obviously out of the public realm, and for good reason.
I would contend, though, that what really happened was apparent to the public. It went unsaid, of course, because to say it could have caused a fan revolt. It also could have hurt Iverson’s feelings a lot more than the team apparently did.
Iverson’s reality, and it was by no means restricted to him, was this: he had an expiring contract. That was why the Pistons traded for him, that was why he rotted in ignominy while the team tumbled 20 wins below its 2007-2008 season, and that was why he got a paid vacation while everyone else received a world-class pummeling from King James. (Iverson, if you’re reading this, be thankful for that last one.)
Despite a great 4-0 start, it was clear that the Pistons didn’t think they could meet the previous year’s effort. Ultimately, they only had two options (and notice how each involves an expiring contract):
1. Unload highly-paid veterans for cap relief, which can then be parlayed into younger talent.
2. Trade Rasheed Wallace’s massive expiring contract plus whatever necessary sweetener (prospects, picks, etc.) for a hulking behemoth in the middle.
Option #2 is really the more interesting one. It’s the only one that allowed for the Pistons to meet, or even exceed, the previous season’s 59-win mark. It also would have added a type of player only known to the franchise in complementary pieces like Bill Laimbeer and aging tutors like Elden Campbell. However, it held a significant problem: who would this behemoth be?
Teams don’t make a habit of trading away their franchise, or semi-star, or let’s just say really good, centers. Orlando would never trade Dwight Howard. San Antonio would never trade Tim Duncan.
When the Lakers traded Shaq to Miami, no one talked about anything else for weeks. When Charlotte traded Emeka Okafor, I could hear the uproar from Toronto. The list goes on.
Why this is important to Detroit’s situation is that, as any general manager will say, it takes two teams to make a trade. While Detroit had Wallace’s expiring contract and numerous young players it could tack on as accessories, there wasn’t a team that had a player suitable to Detroit’s needs that it was willing to trade. Memphis didn’t have Pau Gasol anymore, for example, albeit he’s not that hulking. A player like Erick Dampier might have been available for the right pieces (first player who comes to mind under the heading of “good but overpaid center”), but his chronic endurance issues and knee injuries would have worked poorly with a potentially gutted front line. To pull off the kind of Wallace trade that would have vaulted the team to the Finals, Joe Dumars would have needed to work magic.
So that leaves Option #1. The team’s big contracts as of the start of last season belonged to Chauncey Billups, Richard Hamilton and Tayshaun Prince. Billups is the oldest of the three, and as a bonus, he had what the team thought was the readiest backup in Rodney Stuckey.
The decision to get Iverson as the expiring, aside from Denver being the team to show sufficient interest in Billups, was a crafty one that’s been done before. By acquiring an expiring player with a high talent level (see: Milwaukee Bucks , Gary Payton, 2003), Dumars was able to rationalize the trade to Pistons fans in the easiest way possible. Which sounds better?
“We’ve traded Chauncey Billups for expiring contracts.”
“We’ve traded Chauncey Billups for Allen Iverson.”
Whether you’re a casual fan, a sportswriter or someone who’s rabidly in love with the Pistons, the second one sounds better and more justifiable. It’s an easy forgetting of the uglier side of the league and focuses on the fascinating exchange of one of the league’s most talented guards for another.
Iverson’s inclusion on the Pistons roster meant that the team’s system would either have to adapt to Iverson or that he wouldn’t have his proper place on the roster. Seeing as there was no point in adapting a system to meet the needs of a 33-year old six-foot guard who was clearly a one-year rental, the team would have already had to be suitable for him.
Therefore, the first option hinges entirely on Detroit mimicking Iverson’s far more positive experiences in Philadelphia in Denver. In each place, he had a dominant shot-blocker behind him, which is utterly crucial because Iverson’s defense is at its best when he’s gambling for steals. More bluntly, having a shot-blocker turns Iverson from a subpar defender into a disruptive force.
In Philadelphia, Iverson had Theo Ratliff and then Dikembe Mutombo. In Denver, he had Marcus Camby. In Detroit, there was no such player. Had there been one, the team probably wouldn’t have bothered trading Billups, so Iverson couldn’t have possibly found a good place in Detroit.
So Iverson was doomed as a Piston, a poor fit on a team that, knowing he would be a poor fit, traded for his contract rather than for his talents. From there, he and the team had two options:
1. Do their best to work together, or barring that, live in enmity until the following July.
2. Orchestrate a buyout.
This situation occurs on occasion with high-priced players confronting new management or a new team, and each time it happens, it’s different. Back in 2005, for example, Dale Davis and Glenn Robinson were both traded to a Hornets team that would finish the season with 18 wins. Neither wanted to play there. Each sought a reduced salary in order to achieve free agency, and each followed up by signing with a playoff contender. In contrast, players like Stephon Marbury have sat through agonizing contract years rife with player/team disagreements only to emerge in free agency like an oxygen-deprived scuba diver who’s finally reached the surface.
Why didn’t Iverson force a buyout?
I don’t know. I presume that very few people aside from Iverson, Joe Dumars and their inner circles do. For whatever reason, that didn’t happen, and so Iverson sat on the bench while Billups accumulated accolades in Denver. Then the season ended, which was a relief for the Pistons and for Iverson.
The Pistons should probably turn out okay from all this. On a straight roster spot basis, they’ve traded Billups for Ben Gordon and Wallace for Charlie Villanueva. The team wanted youth and athleticism, and got them. Iverson was an intermediary in the process at best and a pawn at worst.
Iverson suffered a fate that many talented players, from Gary Payton to Dale Davis, have suffered. It’s called having an expiring contract. It can be a time of opportunity, limbo or disaster. In Iverson’s case, it didn’t work out so well, but the reasons behind the problems weren’t his doing. They were all about getting money off of that Detroit payroll.
What’s important for Iverson now is helping turn the Grizzlies into a winning team. He’s had a great attitude, exemplified by his statement to the Memphis Commercial-Appeal that “If you want me to just come here and sell tickets, you've got the wrong guy. If I come here, I want to win.” This is the Iverson who’s captured so many fans. Detroit wasn’t a good situation for him basketball-wise. If Marc Gasol can build on what he’s done so far and rookie Hasheem Thabeet can approach rookie Shawn Bradley, Memphis is. Players traded as expiring contracts in the future should take a reminder from Iverson’s case: the pain will last a year at most, and then the player can go wherever he pleases.
By: Matthew Gordon
RealGM.com Writer
September 14, 2009 6:21 PM
Whenever a player joins a new team, people look back to the one he left. If the split was amicable, there might be an impromptu message board remembrance ceremony or something similar. In many cases, there’s even a rumor that the player could return someday.
Allen Iverson’s departure from the Pistons is not likely to fall into this category.
Only a few days after Iverson’s decision to sign a one-year deal with the Memphis Grizzlies , the RealGM Wiretap relayed the alleged assertion from Iverson’s business manager that the Pistons had lied to his client about his role with the team. What the Pistons told Iverson in a private meeting, and what Iverson said back to them, is obviously out of the public realm, and for good reason.
I would contend, though, that what really happened was apparent to the public. It went unsaid, of course, because to say it could have caused a fan revolt. It also could have hurt Iverson’s feelings a lot more than the team apparently did.
Iverson’s reality, and it was by no means restricted to him, was this: he had an expiring contract. That was why the Pistons traded for him, that was why he rotted in ignominy while the team tumbled 20 wins below its 2007-2008 season, and that was why he got a paid vacation while everyone else received a world-class pummeling from King James. (Iverson, if you’re reading this, be thankful for that last one.)
Despite a great 4-0 start, it was clear that the Pistons didn’t think they could meet the previous year’s effort. Ultimately, they only had two options (and notice how each involves an expiring contract):
1. Unload highly-paid veterans for cap relief, which can then be parlayed into younger talent.
2. Trade Rasheed Wallace’s massive expiring contract plus whatever necessary sweetener (prospects, picks, etc.) for a hulking behemoth in the middle.
Option #2 is really the more interesting one. It’s the only one that allowed for the Pistons to meet, or even exceed, the previous season’s 59-win mark. It also would have added a type of player only known to the franchise in complementary pieces like Bill Laimbeer and aging tutors like Elden Campbell. However, it held a significant problem: who would this behemoth be?
Teams don’t make a habit of trading away their franchise, or semi-star, or let’s just say really good, centers. Orlando would never trade Dwight Howard. San Antonio would never trade Tim Duncan.
When the Lakers traded Shaq to Miami, no one talked about anything else for weeks. When Charlotte traded Emeka Okafor, I could hear the uproar from Toronto. The list goes on.
Why this is important to Detroit’s situation is that, as any general manager will say, it takes two teams to make a trade. While Detroit had Wallace’s expiring contract and numerous young players it could tack on as accessories, there wasn’t a team that had a player suitable to Detroit’s needs that it was willing to trade. Memphis didn’t have Pau Gasol anymore, for example, albeit he’s not that hulking. A player like Erick Dampier might have been available for the right pieces (first player who comes to mind under the heading of “good but overpaid center”), but his chronic endurance issues and knee injuries would have worked poorly with a potentially gutted front line. To pull off the kind of Wallace trade that would have vaulted the team to the Finals, Joe Dumars would have needed to work magic.
So that leaves Option #1. The team’s big contracts as of the start of last season belonged to Chauncey Billups, Richard Hamilton and Tayshaun Prince. Billups is the oldest of the three, and as a bonus, he had what the team thought was the readiest backup in Rodney Stuckey.
The decision to get Iverson as the expiring, aside from Denver being the team to show sufficient interest in Billups, was a crafty one that’s been done before. By acquiring an expiring player with a high talent level (see: Milwaukee Bucks , Gary Payton, 2003), Dumars was able to rationalize the trade to Pistons fans in the easiest way possible. Which sounds better?
“We’ve traded Chauncey Billups for expiring contracts.”
“We’ve traded Chauncey Billups for Allen Iverson.”
Whether you’re a casual fan, a sportswriter or someone who’s rabidly in love with the Pistons, the second one sounds better and more justifiable. It’s an easy forgetting of the uglier side of the league and focuses on the fascinating exchange of one of the league’s most talented guards for another.
Iverson’s inclusion on the Pistons roster meant that the team’s system would either have to adapt to Iverson or that he wouldn’t have his proper place on the roster. Seeing as there was no point in adapting a system to meet the needs of a 33-year old six-foot guard who was clearly a one-year rental, the team would have already had to be suitable for him.
Therefore, the first option hinges entirely on Detroit mimicking Iverson’s far more positive experiences in Philadelphia in Denver. In each place, he had a dominant shot-blocker behind him, which is utterly crucial because Iverson’s defense is at its best when he’s gambling for steals. More bluntly, having a shot-blocker turns Iverson from a subpar defender into a disruptive force.
In Philadelphia, Iverson had Theo Ratliff and then Dikembe Mutombo. In Denver, he had Marcus Camby. In Detroit, there was no such player. Had there been one, the team probably wouldn’t have bothered trading Billups, so Iverson couldn’t have possibly found a good place in Detroit.
So Iverson was doomed as a Piston, a poor fit on a team that, knowing he would be a poor fit, traded for his contract rather than for his talents. From there, he and the team had two options:
1. Do their best to work together, or barring that, live in enmity until the following July.
2. Orchestrate a buyout.
This situation occurs on occasion with high-priced players confronting new management or a new team, and each time it happens, it’s different. Back in 2005, for example, Dale Davis and Glenn Robinson were both traded to a Hornets team that would finish the season with 18 wins. Neither wanted to play there. Each sought a reduced salary in order to achieve free agency, and each followed up by signing with a playoff contender. In contrast, players like Stephon Marbury have sat through agonizing contract years rife with player/team disagreements only to emerge in free agency like an oxygen-deprived scuba diver who’s finally reached the surface.
Why didn’t Iverson force a buyout?
I don’t know. I presume that very few people aside from Iverson, Joe Dumars and their inner circles do. For whatever reason, that didn’t happen, and so Iverson sat on the bench while Billups accumulated accolades in Denver. Then the season ended, which was a relief for the Pistons and for Iverson.
The Pistons should probably turn out okay from all this. On a straight roster spot basis, they’ve traded Billups for Ben Gordon and Wallace for Charlie Villanueva. The team wanted youth and athleticism, and got them. Iverson was an intermediary in the process at best and a pawn at worst.
Iverson suffered a fate that many talented players, from Gary Payton to Dale Davis, have suffered. It’s called having an expiring contract. It can be a time of opportunity, limbo or disaster. In Iverson’s case, it didn’t work out so well, but the reasons behind the problems weren’t his doing. They were all about getting money off of that Detroit payroll.
What’s important for Iverson now is helping turn the Grizzlies into a winning team. He’s had a great attitude, exemplified by his statement to the Memphis Commercial-Appeal that “If you want me to just come here and sell tickets, you've got the wrong guy. If I come here, I want to win.” This is the Iverson who’s captured so many fans. Detroit wasn’t a good situation for him basketball-wise. If Marc Gasol can build on what he’s done so far and rookie Hasheem Thabeet can approach rookie Shawn Bradley, Memphis is. Players traded as expiring contracts in the future should take a reminder from Iverson’s case: the pain will last a year at most, and then the player can go wherever he pleases.
