Allen Iverson's America

Tonight marks the premiere of No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson, the latest installment of ESPN's 30 for 30 documentary series, and it couldn't come at a better time. Back in February, Iverson skipped the NBA All-Star Game and missed several games to be with his family and ailing daughter. Then in early March, the 76ers—the team Iverson man-tearfully returned to a few months earlier—announced that he would be leaving the team, and on the same day, his wife filed for divorce and full custody of their five children. A few days later, a report came out that Iverson had drinking and gambling problems. After ESPN and the blogosphere erupted with stories concerning Iverson's health and his potential to drink himself into oblivion, the constant news cycle quickly pushed those stories out of sight.

On February 14, 1993, Iverson was involved in a fight between groups of black and white teenagers at a bowling alley in his hometown of Hampton, Virginia. During the fight, Iverson allegedly threw a chair at a white woman. The ensuing trial in which Iverson and his friends faced charges of "maiming by mob" is viewed by residents of Hampton's black community as an outright act of racism. Meanwhile, none of the white teenagers involved were charged with a crime. Iverson was convicted and served five months before Virginia's governor granted him clemency. I'm hoping that, with the NBA playoffs about to begin, undoubtedly crowding both print and web sports pages, No Crossover will shed light on the real life problems Iverson has faced and remind us of the continuing racial tension in this country.

One of the reasons I love sports is because, despite all the seemingly superhuman feats professional athletes display on a daily basis, the simple truth is that every athlete is a real person with a real family from a real place. Because of this, and because of the way fans align themselves with their favorite teams and athletes, professional sports is not only linked to American (and sometimes global) culture but can also provide an acute lens through which to view certain issues.

One specific issue that is always linked to the NBA is the state of racism in this country. Any discussion of NBA history would be incomplete without mentioning how the "black style of play" changed basketball into the exciting game it is today. It would also be incomplete if you left out the problems of racism both within the league and among the fans. As David Halberstam wrote, "I don't want to root for someone who looks like he might mug me." This quote comes from Halberstam's 2001 story, "In Admiration of Iverson," and was said to him by a friend regarding Iverson being on his favorite team. Along with praising Iverson's incredible talent in this piece, Halberstam also touches on how Iverson represents a part of our American culture that we must not forget. He writes, "We come from not merely different, but really quite separate Americas."

Halberstam goes on to explain that his white, college-educated background creates a huge culture gap between him and Iverson—who spent his formative years surrounded by drugs and violence—despite having covered Civil Rights movements and watching Jackie Robinson break the baseball color barrier. On top of that, their age differences and Halberstam's consequent separation from the hip-hop culture distances the two men even more. I am 27 years old, which means I have grown up in a time where hip-hop has influenced all facets of popular culture, yet that doesn't bring me any closer to the America in which Iverson grew up. The America I grew up in is still a separate America from Iverson's. I am multiracial and have fairly dark skin. I first grew up near Honolulu, where the color of my skin was the majority, then near Seattle, where I was too young and naive to notice the difference of my skin color from the other children. Only as an adult did I begin to notice most of the people around me were white. It is safe to say that I have never experienced the racism inherent in being a black man prosecuted under a law designed to prevent lynch mobs.

The summer after I graduated from college, I TAed and tutored a writing class of incoming freshman athletes. My favorite student was a young man from a predominately black part of Chicago with whom I worked closely to develop the most basic reading skills. He was surprised and overwhelmed at the size of his textbook. The education system had failed him. He explained to me that from grade school through high school, his school didn't have books. It had worksheets because that's all the school district could afford. He explained to me that he turned to basketball after a close friend had been shot because he knew basketball was the only way for him to get out of there, but he was unprepared for college. He worked, read, and wrote nonstop in order to meet the academic obligations required of him to remain in college. Basketball was his way out. College was his way to never go back. I'm writing about this young man not because I believe it gives me insight into Allen Iverson's world, but merely to illustrate that there are pockets of America that are neglected in various ways. For how far this country has come, we need to keep the dialogue regarding racial tension in order to keep moving forward.

I'm hoping No Crossover will help do just that. A lot of people say they don't want their sports to be mixed with politics, but Iverson represents one of the cases where the mixture is inevitable. If you are the type of person who wants to admire Iverson simply for his game, then go to YouTube and watch every one of the hundreds of crossover moves and highlights, because each one will leave you awestruck. Then, when you see him break Michael Jordan's ankles, think of that quote in the No Crossover trailer where Iverson is compared to the smallest, strongest nail in the hardware store. That's the strength it took for Iverson to became one of the best players the NBA has ever seen. You should admire that. While admiring the strength and perseverance it took for Iverson to earn his nickname, "The Answer," know that there are countless numbers of men, like the young man I tutored, who fought with all they had, never gave up, and still ended up back in that place from which they tried desperately to escape. The attitude, style, and passion with which Iverson played and his ability to impose himself on every game, to me, directly reflects his triumph over the place he grew up in. I won't pretend to know anything about Allen Iverson's America except that it exists.

*Photo courtesy of Kevin Burkett via Creative Commons License