“Allen Iverson is in trouble, folks, deep trouble.” warns the Philadelphia Inquirer’s resident Blackberry fiend Stephen A. Smith. “The combination of alcohol and gambling – and a once-promising career in tatters because of the first two – won’t culminate in anything short of disaster if help does not arrive in short order.” Suffice to say, these issues seem a bit more serious than A.I.’s oft-stated protests about coming off the bench, at least if we trust SAS’ source, Iverson’s business manager, Gary Moore.
Iverson’s wife, Tawanna, having hired some high-powered Atlanta attorney and filed for a divorce last week, does not help matters. Nor does it help that she’s already separated from her husband, with custody of their five kids and seeking both alimony and child support.
When you consider Iverson’s well-known penchant for alcohol and his banishment from casinos in Detroit and Atlantic City, if disgust and sadness don’t come to mind, at least one question does:
Where is Pat Croce when you need him? Or Iverson’s coach at Georgetown, John Thompson?
Where is the person with the ideal combination of compassion and toughness who would shelter Iverson at the same time he’s holding his feet to the flames? Someone whose vested interest is in Iverson’s well-being, someone who doesn’t need his money or cachet?
Thompson’s an obvious candidate to lead the intervention, but perhaps the Commissioner’s office ought to be interested to, given the extent to which the Association has profited wildly from Iverson’s presence over the years. Assuming no portion of Smith’s tale is exaggerated, anyway.