Allen Iverson reportedly broke

[ThomasTomasz]

There was a time, in the NBA’s post-Michael Jordan era, when Allen Iverson was considered to be “The Answer” and he was paid accordingly. Iverson pulled in $154 million just on Philadelphia 76ers paychecks; outside deals sent that figure even higher.

Now, though, Iverson may well be broke.

On Monday, a Georgia judge ordered Iverson to pay a jeweler about $860,000 and, because Iverson apparently could not do so, the court is going after his bank account and garnishing his earnings. This is only the latest development in what has apparently been Iverson’s increasing insolvency over roughly the last two years.

Financial problems reportedly lay at the heart of his decision to sign a two-year, $4-million deal to play in Turkey in 2010 and reportedly are behind rumors that he’ll play abroad again, possibly in Puerto Rico. The Los Angeles Lakers reportedly showed some interest in signing Iverson, but wanted him to play in the NBA Developmental League first.

Bill Lyon, former Philadelphia Inquirer columnist, watched the Iverson years unfold in Philadelphia and wrote about Iverson’s days of excess that included enormous entourages. “Their numbers varied day to day, week to week, most of them from the old neighborhood in Virginia,” Lyon wrote. “There might be as many as 50 for tickets to a home game. There was a hair stylist who traveled, did his corn rows two to three times a week.”

Iverson had his reasons for remaining loyal to the crowd, telling Lyon “they made me.”

He meant they had protected him from all of the casual violence, especially in the early days, allowing him to get where he was. Literally, they kept him alive.

And he owed them.

One night, during the playoffs, in a hotel suite darker than a coal mine at midnight, you saw the depth of his debt: There were bodies everywhere in that suite, all the furniture occupied, the floor, too, the snoring rivaling a 747 takeoff. It was the Posse and assorted hangers-on and remoras and this thought struck you:

It may take a village to raise a child, but in A.I.'s case it has been the other way around.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs...illion-in-nba/2012/02/15/gIQA7GQjFR_blog.html

 

[EmpireWF]

Any pro athlete, whenever they sign their first contract, the only thing they should focus on (aside from the sport) is hiring a financial manager. Shit doesn't last forever.

 

[Obst]

Idk if it says it in the article but Allen was huge into gambling. That's the only reason why he went to play ball in Turkey, had huge debts in the states.

 

[MvP]

Yeah, I've read a few horror stories about Iverson's gambling habits in Atlantic City. Not good, and because of that the fact that he is now broke doesn't surprise me at all.

 

[Rblake]

Same story, different person.

 

[shag773]

I have plenty of friends that I'm loyal to...but I'm sure as fuck not going to financially support them. Such a dumb way of thinking...

 

[ralaw]

Meh, it's important to note that an athlete being broke isn't the same as everyday normal people being broke. I'm sure AI still has tons of money, but just wants it to go where he wants. Most of these guys file bankruptcy to protect investments, property, etc.

BTW, I found this interesting from another article.

Reports from athletes, players' associations, agents and financial advisors say 60 percent of NBA players are broke within 5 years of retirement. It's even worse in the NFL, where a whopping 78 percent of players are in financial distress within 2 years of retirement.

http://www.nbcsandiego.com/news/sports/Million-Dollar-Athletes-Go-Broke-93929869.html

"Sure NBA Players make a lot of money, but we spend a lot too."
-Patrick Ewing

:yao:

 

[Bomberooski]

Time to revive that rap career!!

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBrbMj0eyqM"]Allen Iverson - 40 Bars - YouTube[/ame]

 

[Slateman]

Any pro athlete, whenever they sign their first contract, the only thing they should focus on (aside from the sport) is hiring a financial manager. Shit doesn't last forever.

If I were smart about money, I would partner with Scott Boras and other agents and start a financial investments and management firm strictly for atheletes. Because, clearly, these guys didn't get taught anything growing up, nor is anyone able to teach them now.

 

[KnightNoles]

The Tragedy Of Allen Iverson​

http://www.sbnation.com/nba/2012/1/31/2761217/the-tragedy-of-allen-iverson

By Bomani Jones - Contributor

After a judge garnished Allen Iverson's bank account to pay a debt, it became clearer that his tragedy is coming full circle. And that's heartbreaking to someone who grew up at the peak of his stardom.

 

Jan 31, 2012 - From the second the NBA left Allen Iverson, I wondered what in the world he would do without basketball. It seems "paying his bills" wasn't on his to-do list.

The gumshoes at TMZ say Iverson's bank account has been garnished to pay an exorbitant jewelry bill. Per American custom, that's brought out snickers and finger wagging. Iverson made over $150 million, according to basketball-reference.com. Now, he's 36-years-old and can't even come up with the money to pay for bling he's too old to wear.

People laugh when rich folks struggle. In this case, I see two levels of tragedy. There's the predictability of it all. Even the best adjusted athletes have a million factors to fight when their careers are done, from divorces to simply trying to fill the hours of each day without practices and games. Plus, athletes, figurative lottery winners, are like the literal ones -- they often find a way to blow all their cash.

The rest is the big stuff, the totality of Iverson's nearly four decades and what they meant to a generation of fans and observers who never met him. Even those who couldn't relate to him felt inclined to root for him, if only to spite those who despised him. He was readily associated with hip-hop, but Iverson was rock star from the same mold as all the great ones. They grew up with the Stones, but gave Iverson the same lectures on his clothes that Jagger complained about on "Satisfaction." It was he who was immune to consultations, quite aware of what he was going through, even if those who judged him were not.

For people like me, Iverson's complaints were also ours. His defenses of his own rap music were the same we offered our parents when they heard the words coming from our bedroom windows. We wanted to wear t-shirts and sneakers everywhere, and we couldn't see what the big deal was, either. We were tired of being treated like criminals because of how we dressed. After being told for so long all the nonsensical compromises we would have to make to be successful, it warmed teenage hearts to see Iverson make it without doing any of those things.

It didn't feel like he was being knocked for his undeniable flaws, or even simply for being young and black. It felt like he caught hell for refusing to believe there was something wrong with who he was, how he dressed and how he wore his hair. It wasn't just a refusal to conform. It was a demand for his right to exist. He wasn't analyzed as much as he was indicted by his critics, many of whom never considered how truly impressive it was for someone from his side of the tracks to be a tax-paying millionaire. So many treated him as if he were doomed, that he could never be more than he was as a jaded, immature man in his early-20s.

No matter what anyone thought he did in that bowling alley, or what they thought he deserved, he made it out. Talent alone won't do that for anyone. That's the sort of thing done by hook or crook, and there's no time on the back end to worry too much about how it got done. After suffering the worst in a dying shipping town, being caught on police cameras buying drugs for his mother like it was just a run to the store, the slim chance Iverson had to be successful panned out.

And successful he was. The city he played in, Philadelphia, loved him for his passion. His teams won. He brought home scoring titles, led his team to six playoff series victories and dragged a motley crew of role players to the NBA Finals. And, for better or worse, he brought his people with him. No matter how silly it was to support dozens of people, or how selfishly Iverson handled his role in a team sport, he'd reached places that once seemed impossible for him.

That's why, no matter how boorish he could be or how self-inflicted his problems were, I rooted for Iverson on the court, and why I will continue to do so in life. He earned what he had, and he had a chance for even more. The short, skinny underdog who played harder than anyone in recent memory could be king, and he nearly did so without compromising personally or professionally. Even if that made him a jerk, it was one worthy of respect.

The older I got, the clearer it became that A.I. was going about things all wrong. The braids were a lot cooler in 2001 than ‘09, especially since they were worn by someone 26, not 34. The one-man offense was more defensible when that man, at the very least, was a capable NBA starter. He maxed out what he could do through force of personality and little else. His aging body needed a nuanced game that he hadn't picked up. His ego needed to be commensurate with his diminishing skills to find a place. And he needed to see, clearly, that he was losing basketball, which was the linchpin that held together everything he had.

Now, it's gone. So are his wife and family and, apparently, much of his money. He's no longer a star, not even at the Atlanta watering holes he frequents. We only hear about him when the cops are impounding his Lamborghini or creditors are beating down his door. After being so much, good and bad, to so many, Allen Iverson is a 36-year-old retiree. He is a nobody.

Does he have any fight left in him? We will find out soon. He may be finished as a basketball player, but he can't be finished as a man, if he ever was one. He's done too much, been too far and proven himself to be too strong. Right?

He seems totally unprepared for his greatest challenge: life. Iverson was tossed out of high school. He dropped out of college. Not even the gods of irony are funny enough to make A.I. a coach. He's demonstrated no interest in any activity meant to be performed 40 hours per week. In the most significant ways, he is alone. And there's no reason to think any of this will get any better.

Four years ago, he averaged 26.4 points per game. Two years later, as a free agent, his irrelevance was impossible to ignore. He wasn't even on the backburner. He was in the fridge, cold and past his expiration date. Only running backs and radioactive isotopes decay that fast.

The game hadn't just passed him by. The Game, the macro-level stuff about basketball and branding that The Answer could never be bothered with, were way beyond him. The suits he didn't want to wear, not his t-shirts and du-rags, were in style. The superstars of the day bore little resemblance to the anti-hero who directly preceded them in the limelight.

Now, it's as if he was never here. His most lasting imprint is the NBA's dress code, a measure taken to erase some of Iverson's cultural influence. He has a lifetime contract with Reebok, but he'll never be the Jordan-like icon whose brand power could sell shoes forever. Each of his employers was ready for him to go when he left. The Sixers will retire his jersey, and he'll surely be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Sadly, it might be best-case scenario if we never hear from him beyond those nights.

He went from nothing to the world, and now Allen Iverson may be back to nothing again. Literally, figuratively and tragically.

 

[dell71]

The Tragedy Of Allen Iverson​

http://www.sbnation.com/nba/2012/1/31/2761217/the-tragedy-of-allen-iverson

By Bomani Jones - Contributor

After a judge garnished Allen Iverson's bank account to pay a debt, it became clearer that his tragedy is coming full circle. And that's heartbreaking to someone who grew up at the peak of his stardom.

 

Jan 31, 2012 - From the second the NBA left Allen Iverson, I wondered what in the world he would do without basketball. It seems "paying his bills" wasn't on his to-do list.

The gumshoes at TMZ say Iverson's bank account has been garnished to pay an exorbitant jewelry bill. Per American custom, that's brought out snickers and finger wagging. Iverson made over $150 million, according to basketball-reference.com. Now, he's 36-years-old and can't even come up with the money to pay for bling he's too old to wear.

People laugh when rich folks struggle. In this case, I see two levels of tragedy. There's the predictability of it all. Even the best adjusted athletes have a million factors to fight when their careers are done, from divorces to simply trying to fill the hours of each day without practices and games. Plus, athletes, figurative lottery winners, are like the literal ones -- they often find a way to blow all their cash.

The rest is the big stuff, the totality of Iverson's nearly four decades and what they meant to a generation of fans and observers who never met him. Even those who couldn't relate to him felt inclined to root for him, if only to spite those who despised him. He was readily associated with hip-hop, but Iverson was rock star from the same mold as all the great ones. They grew up with the Stones, but gave Iverson the same lectures on his clothes that Jagger complained about on "Satisfaction." It was he who was immune to consultations, quite aware of what he was going through, even if those who judged him were not.

For people like me, Iverson's complaints were also ours. His defenses of his own rap music were the same we offered our parents when they heard the words coming from our bedroom windows. We wanted to wear t-shirts and sneakers everywhere, and we couldn't see what the big deal was, either. We were tired of being treated like criminals because of how we dressed. After being told for so long all the nonsensical compromises we would have to make to be successful, it warmed teenage hearts to see Iverson make it without doing any of those things.

It didn't feel like he was being knocked for his undeniable flaws, or even simply for being young and black. It felt like he caught hell for refusing to believe there was something wrong with who he was, how he dressed and how he wore his hair. It wasn't just a refusal to conform. It was a demand for his right to exist. He wasn't analyzed as much as he was indicted by his critics, many of whom never considered how truly impressive it was for someone from his side of the tracks to be a tax-paying millionaire. So many treated him as if he were doomed, that he could never be more than he was as a jaded, immature man in his early-20s.

No matter what anyone thought he did in that bowling alley, or what they thought he deserved, he made it out. Talent alone won't do that for anyone. That's the sort of thing done by hook or crook, and there's no time on the back end to worry too much about how it got done. After suffering the worst in a dying shipping town, being caught on police cameras buying drugs for his mother like it was just a run to the store, the slim chance Iverson had to be successful panned out.

And successful he was. The city he played in, Philadelphia, loved him for his passion. His teams won. He brought home scoring titles, led his team to six playoff series victories and dragged a motley crew of role players to the NBA Finals. And, for better or worse, he brought his people with him. No matter how silly it was to support dozens of people, or how selfishly Iverson handled his role in a team sport, he'd reached places that once seemed impossible for him.

That's why, no matter how boorish he could be or how self-inflicted his problems were, I rooted for Iverson on the court, and why I will continue to do so in life. He earned what he had, and he had a chance for even more. The short, skinny underdog who played harder than anyone in recent memory could be king, and he nearly did so without compromising personally or professionally. Even if that made him a jerk, it was one worthy of respect.

The older I got, the clearer it became that A.I. was going about things all wrong. The braids were a lot cooler in 2001 than ‘09, especially since they were worn by someone 26, not 34. The one-man offense was more defensible when that man, at the very least, was a capable NBA starter. He maxed out what he could do through force of personality and little else. His aging body needed a nuanced game that he hadn't picked up. His ego needed to be commensurate with his diminishing skills to find a place. And he needed to see, clearly, that he was losing basketball, which was the linchpin that held together everything he had.

Now, it's gone. So are his wife and family and, apparently, much of his money. He's no longer a star, not even at the Atlanta watering holes he frequents. We only hear about him when the cops are impounding his Lamborghini or creditors are beating down his door. After being so much, good and bad, to so many, Allen Iverson is a 36-year-old retiree. He is a nobody.

Does he have any fight left in him? We will find out soon. He may be finished as a basketball player, but he can't be finished as a man, if he ever was one. He's done too much, been too far and proven himself to be too strong. Right?

He seems totally unprepared for his greatest challenge: life. Iverson was tossed out of high school. He dropped out of college. Not even the gods of irony are funny enough to make A.I. a coach. He's demonstrated no interest in any activity meant to be performed 40 hours per week. In the most significant ways, he is alone. And there's no reason to think any of this will get any better.

Four years ago, he averaged 26.4 points per game. Two years later, as a free agent, his irrelevance was impossible to ignore. He wasn't even on the backburner. He was in the fridge, cold and past his expiration date. Only running backs and radioactive isotopes decay that fast.

The game hadn't just passed him by. The Game, the macro-level stuff about basketball and branding that The Answer could never be bothered with, were way beyond him. The suits he didn't want to wear, not his t-shirts and du-rags, were in style. The superstars of the day bore little resemblance to the anti-hero who directly preceded them in the limelight.

Now, it's as if he was never here. His most lasting imprint is the NBA's dress code, a measure taken to erase some of Iverson's cultural influence. He has a lifetime contract with Reebok, but he'll never be the Jordan-like icon whose brand power could sell shoes forever. Each of his employers was ready for him to go when he left. The Sixers will retire his jersey, and he'll surely be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Sadly, it might be best-case scenario if we never hear from him beyond those nights.

He went from nothing to the world, and now Allen Iverson may be back to nothing again. Literally, figuratively and tragically.

I'm already a Bomani fan but that was good stuff.

 

[s@ppisgod]

The Tragedy Of Allen Iverson​

http://www.sbnation.com/nba/2012/1/31/2761217/the-tragedy-of-allen-iverson

By Bomani Jones - Contributor

After a judge garnished Allen Iverson's bank account to pay a debt, it became clearer that his tragedy is coming full circle. And that's heartbreaking to someone who grew up at the peak of his stardom.

I do find the situation hilarious, but I also agree with a lot of that. Look at Bob Knight or Lou Pinella's unwillingness to change who they are. It's celebrated to a point, that they did it "their way" the whole way through. What's so different about Iverson?

But past that, if you've still got a $860,000 jewelry bill out years after you're at all relevant in the sport where you made a living, then you're a fuckin moron and people should be encouraged to point and laugh at you. Nobody lived well beyond his means for him but Iverson himself. And if he isn't broke already, he'll get there pretty fast. As mentioned, he has no relevance in his sport. He has no schooling. He has desire for a 40-hour work week like the rest of us. Mounting bills and no prospects are a bad combo. Even if he sells off his remaining assets (which he will take a loss on all of them, the type of genius financial decisions that got him here), he's just delaying the inevitable when that ban account reaches the hundreds and he's right back at the bottom of the mountain by his own doings. Tragic to him, but entertaining to me. :motte:

 

[BiggaAdams]

Does he still get paid by Reebok? I thought he had a lifetime shoe contract with them?

 

[dave]

Any pro athlete, whenever they sign their first contract, the only thing they should focus on (aside from the sport) is hiring a financial manager. Shit doesn't last forever.

Sometimes they hire a financial manager and the manager steals ... or is simply incompetent.

 

[NAHSTE]

Sometimes they hire a financial manager and the manager steals ... or is simply incompetent.

*Marcus Dupree slowly nods.

But yeah, this is sad but not terribly surprising. Iverson's AC stories are the stuff of legend. Guy would gamble until 6 AM before a game that night and show up a the shoot around at noon. And everyone who has seen him give an interview knows he is loyal to a fault, and has a big bleeding heart. I've seen him tear up during an interview just from talking about Pat Croce.

Fuck that posse shit though. I'm all about being loyal to my boys and all, but you have to keep that circle limited. I'd ask a few of my boys to hang around, maybe one as a driver and one as my weed manager, and I'd stop there.

 

[jeffx]

Boo-fucking hoo hoo. Tragedy my black ass. Tragedy is a family losing a loved one to senseless gun violence. This is straight-up, dumbass behavior. Good for his dumb 'keeping it real' ghetto ass.

 

[ralaw]

Allen Iverson isn’t broke by any definition

Over the past few weeks, erstwhile NBA star Allen Iverson has been in the news for money troubles. There were reports that he was completely broke — an amazing idea given he made more than $150 million just from NBA salary — followed by condescending offers from minor sports teams. It was a sad story, a circus, and a cautionary tale all at once.

Except it turns out that the entire story was overblown. According to a new report, Iverson isn't broke at all — in fact, he has millions of dollars in the bank. He just doesn't have access to all of it. From the always trustworthy Peter Vecsey for the New York Post (via SLAM):


He is far from insolvent, at least in the real world, if not in harmony with his "nothing in moderation'' lifestyle. Someone who cared a great deal for Iverson and grasped the extent of his habits, loyalties and generosity protected him to some degree from financial ruination, at 36, at any rate.

A person with a firm grip on the situation informs me Iverson has an account worth $32 million, a principal he is prohibited from touching until 55. In the meantime, it feeds him $1 million annually.

At 45, Iverson is eligible to start drawing on an NBA pension that maxes out at 10 years of active duty, or take whatever's there as lump sum. He will be entitled roughly to $8,000 per month ($800 per x 10).

If at all possible, Iverson will issue a restraining order against himself until he's 62 or so. At that time, I'm told, his lump sum will be between $1.5 million and $1.8 million, or he can elect to take monthly checks of approximately $14,000 per.

To clarify, Iverson doesn't have an unlimited amount of money, and it's very possible that he exhausts his annual take well before the year is out. But that doesn't make him any more broke than a trust-fund kid who spent his $10,000 monthly allowance two weeks before the calendar turns. The problem isn't that he has no money, but that he uses it unwisely.

It's easy to moralize about Allen Iverson — he's been a divisive figure since high school. But, like all athletes (or even just all humans), he's more complicated than what conventional wisdom suggests. He's not broke, or a financial war zone. In fact, he seems to have planned his future with some perspective. If Iverson needs money, it's a temporary problem. There's no need to blow his situation out of proportion for the sake of moralism. He deserves better than that.

http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/nba-ball-dont-lie/allen-iverson-isn-t-broke-definition-231239875.html