Allen Iverson and I grew up in different generations, on opposite sides of town. Yet since 1996, when he was drafted and began his sweet-and-sour relationship with Philadelphia, I’ve been a tireless defender of the rap-loving, NBA all-star who once said, “Hey, I am who I am. You can’t change that.”

Presented with a Gibson guitar, Allen Iverson created the buzz of a rock star on the day he was introduced to Memphis fans and media at the FedExForum. He never played a home game as a member of the Grizzlies. (Photos by Warren Roseborough)

Allen Iverson brought  his wife and family along for his Memphis debut at the FedExForum in September.

This tattoo-wearing, hip-hop devotee long ago earned my respect – not for the way he could dance and dazzle on the basketball court, but rather for the courage he showed in standing up for things that mattered. Like the family and friends whose sacrifices, ultimately, made him a success. (Iverson once said his mansion was so noisy from all the people hanging around that he had to check into a nearby Holiday Inn for a little quiet time.)

In many ways, Iverson was a 21st-Century barrier-buster. Jackie Robinson of the Los Angeles Dodgers broke baseball’s color barrier. Decades later along came the little guy with the big heart who would challenge America’s racial biases. He was the first NBA player to wear cornrows, which prompted some critics to wonder if he was “too black.” His off-the-court fashions came straight from the music videos – do rags, baggy pants, crooked baseball caps and oversized T-shirts.

The fact that Iverson decided to be himself, rather than a sanitized and safe commercial version of an NBA star, won him enemies and allies alike. His continual lateness, the “keeping it real” pronouncements, tattoos and rap music prompted more than one sports journalist to ask: Is white, middle-class America ready for an Allen Iverson?

A sharpshooter with a basketball, Iverson would answer his critics on the court and his fans would vote their appreciation in the marketplace. His NBA jersey and line of Reebok sneakers were bestsellers while he was at the peak of his career. Reebok bucked conventional wisdom by turning this rebel into a global brand, thus, opening the door for a cast of other not-ready-for prime-time players who would follow. Reebok’s “I Am What I Am” campaign encouraged legions of young people around the world to embrace their individuality.

I began following A.I., aka the Answer, back in my days in Philadelphia when the 6-foot scoring machine would regularly, and lovingly, caress his children in his arms during the 76ers post-game interviews. My respect for him grew in 2000-01 when the Sixers, coached by Larry Brown, made it to the NBA finals for the first time since 1983. The team would lose the championship to the Los Angeles Lakers but the series illuminated Iverson’s magnificent strengths, and made him seem like David standing up to Goliath.

Afterwards, people around the planet caught A.I. fever. His story was appealing. Born to a 15-year-old mother, he survived hunger, poverty and absent fathers and lived to make a fortune. This was a young man who made it to college and then into the NBA, despite spending time in prison following a felony conviction in a student brawl. (The Virginia Court of Appeals overturned the conviction in 1995 for lack of sufficient evidence.) This was a son who so loved his mom that he didn’t mind her waving a sign, night after night, that read, “That’s my boy #3.”

During the playoffs, I watched as the normally separate worlds of the city’s poor and rich intersected and – at times – formed a promising bond. That was progress, but did anyone notice? Reporters were quick to ask, “What’s wrong with Allen Iverson?” And slow to inquire, “How have these differences enriched our community?”

Recent reports of Iverson’s unfortunate departure from Memphis, and rumors of his retirement, are disappointing. Basketball without A.I.? That is hard for me to imagine. Most intriguing are the rumors true that he may be heading back to Philadelphia, which, as fate would have it, just lost its point guard.

(Note: Iverson will make his home debut with the 76ers against Denver (Dec. 7) after he agreeing to a one-year contract.)

Does Iverson really want to spend more time with family? Is this man a rebel without a cause or a diversity problem: a guy who has been misunderstood by his teams and the media? Stay tuned as the latest chapter in the Allen Iverson story continues to unfold.

While I don’t profess to have all the answers, this, I know: Iverson’s departure from basketball – whenever it comes, for whatever reason – will leave a void. Where in the galaxy of stars can we find someone who is so willing to remind us that having money is good, but knowing who we are is priceless?