Final answer: Iverson should retire

He is defiant, somewhat ostracized and definitely beyond the views and constraints of the mainstream. On the surface, that hardly seems the level of a send-off for arguably the greatest little big man to ever grace the NBA hardwood. But ask yourself, would you ever really expect Allen Iverson to go out any other way?

If it's true that Jay-Z is the new Sinatra, know that Allen Iverson stands as the iconic components of both men, equal parts swag and suave, pragmatic and revolutionary, all in the same breath. And certainly, it can be said that no one has ever done things more in their own way than "The Answer."

This makes all of the swirling news of his imminent decision to walk away from the Memphis Grizzlies and the game he's run as few others have in its history, not only quite plausible but almost expected. You see, Allen Iverson, the very first player of his era to rock cornrows and one of the ones to make tattoos trendy, simply isn't your run-of-the-mill spirit. He never has been, and apparently never will be.

"I'd rather retire before I do this again," Iverson said last season while still a member of the Detroit Pistons when he faced the prospect of playing off the bench for the first time in his 13-year career. "I can't be effective playing this way. It's tough for me both mentally and physically."

But apparently it's not as tough as it is for all his critics to feel the heart of an athlete. Pundits far and wide have assailed him as one of the sports world's greatest egotists, one with little problem putting his own pursuits and desires far above those of all his teammates.

It's the very reason, they maintain, he found so few takers when he became a free agent last summer and was more or less forced to sign the one-year deal with Memphis that he now seems so intent on reneging upon. But when did it become such a great sin for a man to truly love what he does and care even more about being among the best to actually do it? Say what you will about Iverson, but those sentiments have always defined the way he's played the game.

Is he the A.I. of 2001, when he virtually singlehandedly strong-armed Philly into the NBA Finals? Perhaps not, but the fact remains that few have ever played the game any harder or squeezed more out of their ability to do so than The Answer. That style isn't likely to change anytime soon.

Still others point to all the baggage (i.e. entourage) that Iverson carries around as still another curse in forging any alliance with him. With that, I'm reminded of a weekend I once spent with him during a lengthy interview in his hometown of Virginia.

"I know when I'm done playing, I'm pretty much done with basketball," he reflected. "You won't see me hanging around anybody's arena. If that's the price for not turning my back on my friends just because some people think they're not good people, so be it. I've known most of them all my life, and I know otherwise."

Even in the end, even when it all may be coming to a rather premature end, Allen Iverson choses to do thi+ngs his own way.