A Tale of Two Genomes

In an age where classic positional archetypes are melting, here's a question that cuts to the core of the individual, and its role in soceity:

• Is Allen Iverson the basketball player, Allen Iverson, because this is the player he chooses to be? Or this is the player he was born, and cultured to become?

And let's take this question to its logical extent.

• If Allen Iverson is the player he is, because this is the player he has and continues to choose to be--could he be Steve Nash if he wanted to be?

This excercise isn't intended to zero in on Iverson or any individual player, rather the question of what it is that makes good players, and what it is that makes good teams. I picked Iverson, and counterpart, Steve Nash because there's a crystal-clear dichotomy between the two players, despite their similar position of control on each of their respective teams--and Iverson in particular, because there is nothing he can't do physically that Steve Nash can.

With the exception of Iverson's trip to the 2001 NBA Finals, Nash has in large part achieved more team success over the course of his career--and it could be argued that he has achieved more individual success with his two MVP's to Iverson's one. But why?

There's little question Iverson is a significantly more gifted athlete. He is by all-accounts one of the greatest athletes in basketball history, which likely makes him one of the greatest athletes ever in any sport. A 6-foot marvel, who starred in basketball and football in higschool, blazing speed and quickness--and incredible vertical leap, and strength that goes consistently over-looked. His individual basketball talent is unquestionable. The coordination, the balance, the ball handling--the ability to get wherever he wants to, whenever he wants. His vision is always underrated, as noted by his career assist numbers.

So why is it, that Steve Nash--a player who in most tangible ways is subordinate to Iverson, has achieved more notable success than Iverson in his career?

The first and most obvious answer is their teams. Nash has been surrounded by better talent than Iverson for a good deal of his career in both Dallas and Phoenix. But why is it then, that Iverson and his Sixers achieved such great success in the 2000-2001 season reaching the NBA finals, a plateu Nash has never reached despite superior suporting talent to Iverson? Of course, there is the obvious disparity in competition between the East and West--but why did Iverson fail to consistently compete for the Eastern Conference crown year after year in Philadelphia?

Furthermore, Nash's immediate impact in Phoneix far surpasses that of Iverson in Denver, where he has the talent to legitamtley contend for a title.

Now I won't contend for a second that despite the above de-bunking of the "team" theory--that it doesn't and hasn't played some sort of roll in the differences in their respective levels of success--but I think there's a more powerful factor at play here.

I hypothesize, that it is the innate type of player Allen Iverson is, and continues to be, that has led to the markedly different legacies both AI and Nash.

Jordan won rings only when he actively chose to trust his teammates--to rely on them. Tim Duncan has always relied on his teammates, as did Bird and Magic (whos success was predicated on it rather than just relied), Kobe's fortune is changing as he is allowing his teammates to carry more of the burden, and despite the fact that he has yet to win a title, Nash elevated his game by giving his teammates the opportunity to become better.

It would be easy to misconstrew this, and say--"oh ok, Allen Iverson is innatley a more selfish player, therefore he does not succeed." Quite the contrary, just look at the numbers. The reality isn't that Iverson doesn't pass the ball enough--it's that he doesn't want to pass the ball enough.

Why? For the same reason Jordan struggled. Because when you're as good as Michael Jordan, or Allen Iverson, it's far easier to trust yourself, than it is to trust four other guys you know aren't even close to being as good as you. In the short run--from moment to moment, play to play--you can get away with it. Hell, you can get through regular seasons and even compete in the playoffs, maybe even make it to a Finals once on that notion. But when it comes to trying to win a title--when it comes to being a champion, it just isn't enough.

Dicatorship might work well in the short run, but you have to trust the people, to truly accomplish a great society.

But let's dig deeper: Why? Why doesn't/why can't Iverson see this light? Why doesn't he see the success of Steve Nash, and make the connection that "shit, if I play more like Steve Nash, I might give myself a better shot at getting to the promise land."

Here's my theory:
Miraculous, once in a lifetime God-given talent (striking platinum in the genetic lottery pool) + coming of age during the Magic-Bird-Jordan Era as I discussed = an innate lack of basketball selflessness that the likes of Duncan (born and raised under very different socio-economic circumstances) use to become elite, champions. Or: nature + nurture = nature. In contrast, Nash was born with less talent, raised in a different culture and whose greatest influence may have very well been soccer--a far more egalitarian game, where an individual can have far less influence than in the game of basketball.

But forget Iverson. There are more players, more stars in NBA history who have been further from this innate realization than AI. I've seen Iverson play like Nash on possessions. He dishes, beautifully at times. Sometimes, it just isn't in the genes.