It's Friday, Time to Dance

Talib Kweli dropping an Allen Iverson reference.

Starting Lineups: Allen Iverson Reaches The Rafters

Starting Lineups: Allen Iverson Reaches The Rafters

It's Friday, Time to Dance

Tomorrow, the Philadelphia 76ers will retire Allen Iverson's jersey, his patented No. 3 rising to the rafters forever. Of course I'll be there along with a slew of friends, and you bet your ass I'd pay for front-row seats to watch Iverson play again, the way The Roots and Beanie Sigel mentioned in "Adrenaline."



Can't wait for tomorrow.

Sam Hinkie And The Philadelphia 76ers: Searching For The Next Allen Iverson

Sam Hinkie And The Philadelphia 76ers: Searching For The Next Allen Iverson

Starting Lineups: Michael Carter-Williams Takes The Stage As Allen Iverson Exits

Starting Lineups: Michael Carter-Williams Takes The Stage As Allen Iverson Exits

It's Friday, Time to Dance

Wednesday night, I will be in attendance for the 2013-14 Philadelphia 76ers' season-opener, in which they will most assuredly lose by 50 points to the two-time defending NBA champion Miami Heat. At said game, Allen Iverson will officially announce his retirement in front of the fans who watched him go from excited rookie to leading scorer to troubled star to MVP and back, so might as well enjoy a little Allen Iverson name dropping from Nas.



The Sixers are going to be entertainingly, historically awful, and frankly I can't wait.

The 2013 NBA Retirement Manifesto: A Class For The Ages

The 2013 NBA Retirement Manifesto: A Class For The Ages

It's Friday, Time to Dance

This is a treasure trove of Allen Iverson mentioned in songs that I will surely access often in this space, particularly since the most exciting Philadelphia 76er of my generation recently formally announced his retirement from the NBA.

Today we kick it off with Busta Rhymes dropping A.I.'s name.

Remembering That George Karl Was A Major Jerk

Remembering That George Karl Was A Major Jerk

 

Rashad McCants, Delonte West And Allen Iverson Don’t Walk Onto A Court…

Rashad McCants, Delonte West And Allen Iverson Don’t Walk Onto A Court…

Why Did Allen Iverson Turn Down the D-League?

Yesterday news broke that the Texas Legends of the NBA D-League were ramping up their season-long pursuit of Allen Iverson. The Legends had signed Delonte West and Rashad McCants, and had just had one of their players, Mike James, promoted to the NBA. The Legends had hoped that the prospect of playing in the D-League with guys with NBA experience combined with proof that they can put guys in the NBA would convince Iverson to join them as a stepping stone to an NBA return.



This would have been awesome on several levels. One, having Iverson on the same team as Delonte West has the potential to be top-notch entertainment, especially off the court, considering the personalities and histories of the two guys. Second, and more importantly, it would be awesome to see The Answer back on a court again, on American soil, and to see what he has left.

The rumor was tantalizing. See, I love Allen Iverson. He is my favorite athlete of all time. And I want nothing more than to see him finish his career in the NBA, to finish it the way a player of his caliber and accomplishments should finish it.



Unfortunately, it doesn't appear that it is going to happen. Today, via Twitter, Iverson turned down the offer. "I thank Donnie and Dallas for the consideration and while I think the D-League is a great opportunity, it is not the route for me." To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

And now you will see me be as critical of Iverson as I ever will be. The Rev can attest to my love of Iverson and to the fact that I will argue for hours against those who dislike Iverson or fail to recognize his accomplishments and greatness. But I have a small beef with the man over the current situation.

Iverson has stated again and again that his dream is to finish his career in the NBA. He has said he still has what it takes to be a productive player, that he understands his past mistakes and is willing to play whatever role is asked of him, that he just wants to end his illustrious career in the NBA and help a team however he can. He continued his tweet turning down the offer with this ... "I realize my actions contributed to my early departure from the NBA, should God provide me another opportunity I will give it my all ... My dream has always been to complete my legacy in the NBA."

This is where, perhaps for the first time since the little 6-foot guard from Georgetown exploded onto the scene in Philadelphia and captured the attention and imagination of a young Sixers fan, I have a problem with Allen Iverson. To me it seems that if all this finishing in the NBA stuff were true, then this would be the perfect way to get there. He mentions "should God provide me another opportunity." Well it could be argued that this is that opportunity. 



I understand that this is solely Allen Iverson's decision, and he has every right to do what he wants. And I understand that we are talking about a four-time scoring champion, an 11-time All-Star, a former MVP, and that maybe he feels above the D-League, or maybe he feels embarrassed to have to go there. I will never know the true reason why he turned down the offer, but it appears pretty evident that an NBA team isn't gonna just knock on his door and offer him a contract. 

I just wish he could put his pride aside, or put aside whatever it is that led him to this decision, because I honestly think that this would be his best chance at making a return to the NBA. And I want nothing more than to see this warrior, this incredible little lightning bolt, this man who amazed and entertained and inspired me for over a decade, to finish his career in the proper way, in the NBA.

Just Enjoy the Ride and A.I.

I've been spending the entirety of this Sixers playoff run with a cynical, "yeah but" attitude. I know I'm not the only one, but I certainly have been as vocal about this team's flaws and proclaiming this a smoke and mirrors situation. Maybe it's just the Philadelphia in me.

But after last night, I'm putting that all on the shelf until the offseason. It just doesn't make sense to do it anymore. No matter what I truly feel about the makeup of this team moving forward, it's undeniable that this whole thing has been fun. Last night, when I honestly thought they may get blown out and end their season, the Sixers stood tall, outplayed the Celtics and forced a game 7 Saturday night in Boston on the backs of Jrue Holiday and Elton Brand, not to mention a nice pregame push from the Answer.

It's Friday, Time to Dance

The Sixers just advanced to the second round of the playoffs for the first time since Allen Iverson was in his first go-round with the Sixers. Now A.I. is in the Swizz Beatz video.

It's Friday, Time to Dance

Thanks to the good folks over at The700Level, I now know that some rapper named Don Trip has a song called "Allen Iverson," about none other than, you guessed it, Allen Iverson. Enjoy.

Iconic Moments

We watch sports for many different reasons, and sports give us many things in return. Thrills and disappointments, joy and heartbreak, incredible feats and performances both individual and team. Lifelong memories that we share with family and friends. The simple fact that your favorite team is playing at night can get you through a hard day. Then there are the iconic moments.

Iconic moments. Those moments that are frozen in your memory forever. That you can recall at any moment and replay in your head as if you had just seen it. Every detail, every movement burned into your memory. The moments you dream about being a part of when you were a kid. A World Series winning hit. A championship-winning buzzer-beater. Scoring the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl.

These moments that burn into your mind can be both joyous or heartbreaking, as all Philadelphians know. There are several of those not-so-pleasant ones that haunt us all, which I will not mention in detail. Some of these moments are universal, as any sports fan can recall them, and some are more subjective, reserved for an individual or a specific fan base. Here are a few of mine.

Lidge drops to his knees



This one is self-explanatory for any Phils fan, especially of my generation. It's the lasting image of the first championship of our lifetime. I'll never forget that glorious October or where I was when it finally happened.

The Stepover



Allen Iverson is my favorite athlete of all time. The 2000-2001 season saw the Sixers jump out to a 10-0 start, continue to run through the rest of the regular season, and battle their way to the NBA Finals. There they met the mighty Los Angeles Lakers, who had yet to be defeated in the entire postseason. So here come the Sixers, a heavy underdog, and they gut and grind their way to a Game 1 road victory. The Sixers eventually came up short, but this moment showed the Lakers and the world that the Sixers were coming to play and weren't going down without a fight. It was the greatest moment in a season where the Sixers and A.I. provided a ton of great moments.

Jordan over Russell



This one pretty much speaks for itself. The greatest player ever adding yet another signature moment to his legacy, taking and making the final shot of Chicago Bulls career to win his 6th and final title.<

Brandi Chastain clinches '99 World Cup



Partly because it clinched the World Cup title, partly because I watched a woman rip her shirt off on national television. You have to love the emotion, you have to love the unrestrained reaction. Plus it gave us this gem of a commercial:

Absolutely Incredible: The 10-Year Anniversary of the 2001 76ers (and Game 1 of the NBA Finals)

Ten years ago today I, like an entire generation of Philadelphia 76ers fans, experienced the pinnacle of basketball enjoyment in my life to date. On this date a decade ago, June 6, 2001, the Philadelphia 76ers went to Los Angeles and defeated the previously undefeated (in the playoffs) Lakers to win game 1 of the NBA Finals in an overtime thriller. And it was the greatest moment of my basketball viewing life.



Back then, I was a baby-faced high school junior, just 17 years old — born more than a half a year after the last time the Sixers made it to the NBA Finals (and won) in 1983. And I remember every last second of that game and that season like it happened yesterday, even 10 years later as a 27-year-old who has a tough time remembering what I ate for lunch.

It’s no exaggeration when I say I’ve watched game 1 of the 2001 NBA Finals dozens upon dozens of times. Not only did I watch the game live from home in suburban Philadelphia at the time, but I taped it at the same time. The next day, I asked my Latin teacher – who did not exactly enjoy having me in her class – if I could bring in the tape and watch it, seeing as it was the end of the year and everyone had checked out. Incredibly, the same teacher who had given me ISS (in-school suspension for you goody-two-shoes who never got in trouble) and two Saturday morning detentions for dropping a few “F” bombs at a girl for saying something to me she shouldn’t have actually, agreed to let me bring in the tape and have the class watch it. You bet your ass I brought it in and the class did just that.

Honestly, I don’t think there’s another person on the planet who’s watched that game more than me. On several occasions over the next year, I popped in the tape when I wasn’t doing anything else and watched every last second of it, yelling and screaming at the refs and plays (especially Rick Fox’s clear travel in overtime, where he slid across the floor with the ball in his possession) like it was live. I brought that tape to college and popped it in my TV/VCR combo anytime I felt down or needed motivation to do some work or when I was skipping class.

To this day, I still have that tape, worn and beat up, and though I don’t watch it much anymore since there’s no VCR in my current house, I’ve been known to sneak it in on occasion when I find a real, live, working VCR.

That might sound insane and unhealthy to a lot of people, but not if you’re a Sixers fan, and certainly not if you lived through the 2000-01 Sixers season.

For those you outside Philadelphia, you have to understand where I’m coming from. For my entire childhood, the Sixers were one of the laughingstocks of the league. I came around in the post-Dr. J era, when the team consisted of Charles Barkley and little else. Hersey Hawkins and Johnny Dawkins were the only respectable players I remember playing with him.



Names like Charles Shackleford, Jeff Malone, Shawn Bradley, Clarence Weatherspoon, Dana Barros and Manute Bol were the biggest names in town, and as you can imagine, the Sixers were terrible. Really terrible. So terrible that I spent nearly as much time watching Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and the Bulls as I did the Sixers. Though Philadelphia was still my favorite team, the Bulls were more fun to watch, and they were on TV just as much as the Sixers because those were the days of PRISM. Only Sixers road games were televised, while home games were on PRISM, a pay channel we did not have in my home.

Being a Sixers fan was tough. And really, there was never much hope until Jerry Stackhouse was drafted and was a finalist for the Rookie of the Year.



The next year, the excitement grew even greater, as the Sixers won the draft lottery and selected Allen Iverson out of the Georgetown, the consensus No. 1 pick and eventual Rookie of the Year. Finally, there was some buzz around professional basketball in the City of Brotherly Love.



Unfortunately, the Sixers still sucked, and Iverson and Stackhouse really couldn’t find a way to co-exist. So Stackhouse was shipped off to Detroit in exchange for Philadelphia native and former Temple star Aaron McKie and a raw, athletic but pretty much unknown Theo Ratliff.

Little did we know at the time that that trade would set things in motion for this franchise. Seeing the way Iverson dominated the ball and scored as well as anyone, the Sixers began to build a team of role players around A.I. In came Larry Brown, the legendary coach who made is career by turning around moribund franchises and turning them into playoff teams. While Brown and Iverson clashed heads, the Sixers began their steady ascent, making the playoffs year after year with Iverson getting better and better. Yet they could never quite get over the hump, routinely getting bounced by Brown’s former team, the Indiana Pacers.

Then the 2000-01 season happened. Fed up and frustrated with dealing with Iverson, Brown and then-GM Billy King had a deal in place to trade Allen Iverson and Matt Geiger in a four-team deal with the Los Angeles Lakers, Charlotte Hornets and Detroit Pistons. I don’t recall all of the details, but I do remember that Iverson was to end up in Detroit, with Eddie Jones, I believe Glenn Rice and more heading to Philadelphia. But Geiger had a no-trade clause in his contract and vetoed it.

When I heard of the trade, I remember being furious. How could the Sixers even think about trading their best player, the franchise player, one of the best scorers and a guy who laid it on the line every night? Silver fox, Arkansas Fred and I couldn’t fathom it, and Geiger instantly became a savior in our eyes. Had the Sixers traded Iverson in his prime, I’m not sure any of us would have known what to do. All I know is, we were pissed. So was Iverson. And he used that slap in the face from the front office as fuel for the greatest season any little man has ever had in the NBA.

Iverson and the Sixers stormed out of the gate, A.I. determined to prove Brown, King and everyone else that even thinking about trading him was a lethal mistake. They blew out the Knicks in the opener, then topped the Raptors, then the Magic and the Heat. Before you could blink, the Sixers were off to a 10-0 start, with Iverson playing out of his mind and the team playing some of the best defense in the league. Theo Ratliff, who had come into his own under brown, was a defensive force, protecting the rim and erasing shots. Aaron McKie and Eric Snow were incredible on-the-ball defenders. George Lynch a shutout guy on the wing. Tyrone Hill did yeoman’s work, and despite his atrocious offense was playing awesome low-post defense and hauled in every rebound. And the Sixers looked like they might never lose.

Their winning streak did come to an end in game 11, but by the time the all-star game came around, the Sixers had the best record in the NBA and were running away with the East. It looked like nothing could stop them … until Ratliff broke his wrist before the all-star break, this after being voted in as the East’s starter for the all-star game. That’s when the rumors began of a trade for Dikembe Mutombo. And as great as Mutombo was, I couldn’t stand the thought of Philadelphia trading away Theo. Outside of Iverson, Ratliff was my favorite player on the team. His incredible shot-blocking and athleticism drew me in, and I had grown to love him. To this day, I love the guy. And I desperately wanted the Sixers to keep him. After all, they had the best record in the league and were playing the best basketball I’d ever seen the Sixers play, and he was a large reason for that.



As fate would have it, that all-star game turned out to be foreshadowing. With Ratliff out due to the wrist injury, Iverson was the lone Sixer playing in the game. The Western Conference, who had dominated the game for a while, built a commanding lead. But then Iverson, with the help of Stephon Marbury and, yes, Dikembe Mutombo, led the East back. Iverson and Marbury teamed up as a two-man blur, scoring at will in the 4th quarter, and Mutombo got what felt like every single rebound down the stretch. With Iverson winning the MVP, the East won coming from behind 111-110, thanks largely to Iverson and Mutombo.



Not long after, Mutombo would team up with Iverson again. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was working at my after-school job at a gas station, where I sat and watched TV while eating candy and drinking Rosie’s as people paid me for gas and cigarettes. I’m watching Sportscenter as I hear word that the Sixers and Hawks pulled off a trade, with Theo Ratliff, Toni Kukoc and other moving parts going to Atlanta in exchange mainly for Dikembe Mutombo. I let out a loud, emphatic, “Fuck! Fuck shit fuck!” I was infuriated that they traded my man Theo, and immediately declared that if the Sixers did not make the NBA Finals, it was a stupid trade. Of course it wasn’t. Because as good as Theo was, Mutombo was one of the greatest rebounders and defenders in NBA history, a shot-blocking machine and defensive wizard. Still, I was heartbroken and didn’t quite know what to do with myself. The only thing I could do was sit back and watch.

What I and everyone else in Philadelphia and across the country witnessed was continued dominance by the Sixers. Iverson threw his body all over the court on his way to MVP, leading the league in scoring and minutes per game while finishing second in steals. Aaron McKie, the defensive stalwart and big-shot maker, won 6th Man of the Year. Larry Brown, finally able to get through to Iverson and put the right surrounding cast around him, won Coach of the Year. And Mutombo, the man who replaced Ratliff, won Defensive Player of the Year. Coach of the Year, 6th Man of the Year, Defensive Player of the Year and MVP all on the same team.

With a such huge lead in the East going down the stretch, Brown decided to rest his weary and beaten players. Ultimately, that cost the Sixers a chance at home court if they made the Finals, but they had home court all sewn up in the conference. They finished 56-26, and night in and night out, the building was packed and everyone tuned in on TV.

It was the most fun regular season of my life, but now came the real test. First round, the Indiana Pacers, the team that had made a habit of bouncing the Sixers year in and year out. But after they lost game 1, it was all Sixers in game 2, and they made quick work of Indiana, winning the series in four games. They had exorcised a demon. After that, I honestly believed this team would overcome everything. And they did.

The rest of the playoffs were a blur. That epic 7-game series with Toronto in which Vince Carter and A.I. exchanged 50-point games. Iverson scoring 50 for a second time just days after Charles Oakley proclaimed Iverson would never score 50 against them again. Vince Carter’s graduation-day controversy. Then his missed last-second shot that seemed to go in slow motion to ensure the Sixers would move on. I watched it all, hanging on to every moment.

Then it was the Bucks, another 7-game battle. Yet it wasn’t game 7 that stands out. Believe it or not, the most memorable game in that series for every Sixers fan alive wasn’t even a game the Sixers won. No, it was game 3. With the series tied 1-1, Milwaukee went home with the news that Iverson was too banged up to play. Everyone in the world expected a blowout victory for the Bucks, with Sam Cassell, Glenn Robinson and Ray Allen providing way more punch than the Iverson-less Sixers.

Yet without A.I., the Sixers battled and battled and battled. They overcame a huge second-half deficit and made it a game. And while the Bucks ultimately won, it showed the true resolve of this team. Not even missing their unquestioned star, the man tasked with the biggest scoring load in the league, could derail their confidence. Jumaine Jones of all people stepped up in Iverson’s absence with 16 big points. McKie led the Sixers with 22. And their defense was incredible yet again.

Even after the Sixers fell behind 2-1 in the series on that night, you just knew Philadelphia would find a way to win the series. And they did just that. Iverson came back with avengeance, putting up 28 in game 4, and the Sixers outlasted Milwaukee in 7, with Dikembe asking, “Who wants to go to L.A. with me?”

Ray Allen and George Karl cried the whole series, with Allen uncharacteristically complaining of a conspiracy because the NBA wanted to see Iverson vs. Shaq. Karl, who proclaimed earlier in the series that Dikembe Mutombo wouldn’t really be a factor, walked out of a press conference after Mutombo had a monster game and a reporter asked him about that comment. It was nothing but sore losers from Milwaukee, and I didn’t give two shits. The Sixers were going to the NBA Finals.

And that’s where the Sixers were headed, to take on the Los Angeles Lakers, who had swept their way to the NBA Finals. No one gave the Sixers a chance. No one. With Shaquille O’Neal, Kobe Bryant and a slew of championship veterans, the Lakers were the unbeatable juggernaut. It really was a David vs. Goliath story, Iverson vs. Shaq and Kobe.

Then the Sixers went out and shocked the world. Raja Bell with the scoop shot. Eric Snow with the face. Iverson’s 48 points despite Tyronn Lue “holding me the whole time,” as A.I. would say after the game. Dikembe’s remarkable one-on-one defense against Shaq. Rick Fox’s clear travel that wasn’t called in OT, the Lakers storming out in overtime and looking like they buried the Sixers, only to have A.I. go bonkers, cross up Lue, step over him, and give Philadelphia the victory and a 1-0 series lead. Ironically, as former No. 1 overall pick for the Sixers and current Sixers head coach Doug Collins called the game on NBC with Marv Albert. The unbeatable were beaten, and I honestly thought that somehow, some way this band of misfits and its star would continue to shock the world.

We all know that’s not how it played out. As expected, the Lakers came out and won game 2. But when the series shifted back to Philadelphia and the Sixers built a big lead, it looked like they weren’t going anywhere soon. Shaq fouled out. The home crowd was going nuts. But the Sixers still lost. Right then and there, all hopes were dash. If they couldn’t close out a game with eventual Finals MVP Shaq fouled out, this thing was as good as over. Robert Horry did his thing, Shaq and Kobe closed out the Sixers, and Kobe became public enemy No. 1 when the series shifted back to Philly by proclaiming he wanted to rip Philadelphia’s heart out. The hometown hero turned unappreciative traitor. He could have been diplomatic about it, but he chose to cast his hometown aside completely. Philadelphia hasn’t forgiven him since.

And the reason is because this city absolutely loved that team. For one magical regular season, for one incredible playoff run, for one remarkable NBA Finals game, everything was perfect. We had the MVP. We had the Coach of the Year, DOP, 6th Man. And 10 years ago today, they went out and shocked the world, beat the unbeatable Lakers, played the perfect game.

It was a season unlike any other. And although it didn’t culminate in a title, it was, simply put, absolutely incredible.



Check out Kenny's take, along with mine, on game 1 over at Ed the Sports Fan.

Allen Iverson and the Crossover

This has been making the rounds, and for good reason. It's awesome. Just watch.



I'm going to have to respectfully agree with A.I. over D-Wade.

Kenny Stole My Thunder: Allen Iverson's 52 Points

Since today is the 10-year anniversary of Allen Iverson scoring over 50 points for the second time in the Eastern Conference Finals against the Toronto Raptors, this after Charles Oakley declared Iverson would not score 50 again on them after he put up 54 in game 2, I was gonna do a little reminiscing about that. But my man Kenny over at Ed the Sports Fan beat me to the punch.

So instead of rehashing that exact moment, I'll just post some videos of that epic series, and next month, around the 10th anniversary of game 1 of the 2001 NBA Finals, I will write a retrospective on what it was like to be a Sixers fan during that remarkable season in which Allen Iverson was named MVP, Dikembe Mutombo Defensive Player of the Year, Aaron McKie Sixth Man of the Year and Larry Brown Coach of the Year as the Sixers made it all the way to the NBA Finals.















Hopefully I'll beat Kenny to the punch on that one. In the meantime, definitely check out his post. It brought back chills.

Video: Allen Iverson's College Battles

When I was scouring YouTube for my Ray Allen post, I came across some pretty sick footage of Allen Iverson at Georgetown battling a ton of great college and NBA players. Since it's Friday and I don't feel like doing any work — which I'll greatly regret Monday — I figured I'd share.















And this just because.

Ray Allen, the Most Prolific Three-Point Shooter Ever

Last night, the two greatest shooters I've ever had the pleasure of truly watching for their entire careers were in one building, and fittingly, Ray Allen passed Reggie Miller as the NBA's all-time leader in three-pointers made.

Seeing them embrace after Allen's 2,561st made three, I couldn't help but think of the contrasts between the two. When you really break it down, the only thing Reggie Miller and Ray Allen had in common was the amazing efficiency they've had watching the ball hit nothing but the bottom of the net. After that, the similarities end.



Reggie Miller had that unconventional, funky shooting motion, slapping his wrists together. It's something you'd never teach a youngster to try and imitate. Ray Allen's shot is the epitome of perfect form — squaring the feet, straightening the elbow, release at the highest point, perfect followthrough. It's almost as if god put him on this earth to show kids the exact form you should aim for. Reggie Miller was a brash trash-talker. Ray Allen has barely made a peep over his career. Reggie did most of his damage running of screens and bombing away. Allen, while being tremendous running of screens himself, had a little more hops and could create his own shot and get the rim in his younger days. Reggie is ringless. Ray finally got his with Boston.

Their personalities couldn't be more different. But they will always, always have that common moniker of great shooter. And now Allen can claim the title as the best, or at least most accomplished, three-point shooter of all time.

I vividly remember his playing days at UConn, first going up against Kerry Kittles, then Allen Iverson.



And as a Philadelphia 76ers fan and Allen Iverson connoisseur, I've closely watched Ray Allen's career ever since. Their personal rivalry began back in the Big East, when Ray Allen and Allen Iverson used to straight go at.





Of course, that rivalry's biggest game was decided by those two, when Ray hit the ridiculous shot that toppled Iverson's Hoyas to win the Big East Championship in 1996.





And I watched Allen and Iverson rekindle their rivalry in Iverson's very first game in the NBA, with Iverson putting up 30 points against Allen's Bucks.



That rivalry would last for years. The Bucks of Ray Allen, Sam Cassell and Glenn Robinson were among the biggest threats to Iverson's run at an Eastern Conference title along with … you guessed it, Reggie Miller's Pacers. When Iverson and the Sixers finally got past the Pacers in the 2001 playoffs and then outlasted the Toronto Raptors, all that stood between the Sixers and the NBA Finals were Ray Allen's Bucks.

I watched as the Bucks, led by Allen, fought tooth and nail before ultimately falling to the Sixers in seven games. And I remember Ray Allen basically saying there was a conspiracy to get the Sixers into the Finals:

"I think there's no question about that. The league, as a marketing machine, the bottom line is about making money," Allen said. "It behooves everybody for the league to make more money, and the league knows that Philadelphia is going to make more money with L.A. than we would with L.A."

I remember the very next year when Philadelphia was hosting the All-Star game. I went to the three-point shootout and dunk contest with silver fox and Arkansas Fred — specifically recalling Shane Battier, fresh off playing the rookie-sophomore game, coming out the wrong door and looking up all confused at the crowd outside waiting to get in, then walking through the crowd and running right into Arkansas Fred and silver fox, true story — and every time Ray Allen came up, he was getting booed. The out-of-towner next to me, who kept hilariously making fun of Funkmaster Flex — the night's MC — asked me why everyone hated Allen. I told him it was because of his comments in the Eastern Conference Finals the year before, and he couldn't stop laughing. (Jason Richardson won the dunk contest by the way, and that was the year the stupid wheel of a classic dunk was used.)

But even though Ray Allen was a rival of my favorite Sixer ever, even though he made those absurd comments, I could never bring myself to hate the man. His game was just too smooth, too impressive, too good, and the work he put in made me love his game even more.

Ray Allen could always shoot, and he still is as good a shooter as anybody. Everyone knows that. But what some people might not remember is just how incredible an athlete Ray-Ray was in his younger days. He could sky. He could get to the rim. He could beat his man off the dribble, finish in the paint, do just about anything offensively. After being on a contender in Milwaukee, he never complained about his obscurity in Seattle. He just went about his business, the first one to arrive and last one to leave, and became a leader. Even going Hollywood as Jesus Shuttleworth didn't go to his head or take away from his preparation.

Ray Allen has simply put in the work day in and day out since the moment he arrived at UConn, and he hasn't relented ever since. He went a long, long time chasing that ring, and when he finally won it in Boston, I was happy for him. And I'm happy that he's now the all-time leader in three-pointers made. Because watching him for the past 16-plus years has been a real joy, first at UConn and now back in New England some 14 years later.

Ray Allen is easily the greatest shooter I've ever seen. He has the most beautiful jump shot and quickest release my eyes have ever witnessed. If you had to pick one player in the history of the league to use as a teaching tool on how to shoot, you'd go with Ray Allen, his form is that pure. And if the NBA and sports in general had more players, more humans like Ray Allen, we'd all be better off.

Congrats, Ray. You deserve to go down in the history books. And I feel privileged to have watched your career unfold, and lucky that I've gotten to see that sweet shot for all these years.