For the past three years, as Iverson chased an NBA comeback, his marriage fell apart and much of his fortune – he earned more than $150 million in salary alone during his career – dissolved. Now, those who once ignored past signals have recognized that basketball may have been the only thing holding Iverson’s life together.
“He has hit rock bottom, and he just hasn’t accepted it yet,” says former Philadelphia teammate Roshown McLeod.
A few minutes before 8 o’clock, a black Suburban pulls into the players’ parking lot. At 7:59, the passenger door opens, and Iverson climbs out, shouting profanity. Then he notices Aron, who wraps his arms around Iverson. They walk toward the entrance, Iverson still shouting, for one more night under the lights.
“God gave him this great gift,” says Pat Croce, the former Sixers executive who selected Iverson first overall in the 1996 NBA draft. “But you knew one day, he was going to take it away.”