First the Sixers are gonna go down 20 points midway through the second quarter. Then the crowd's gonna start chanting "We Want Al-len! We Want Al-len!" and the jumbotron is gonna pan to his courtside seat. But it's empty.
Where's Allen? WHERE'S ALLEN?
The third quarter starts.
Sixers down 27.
People are beginning to file out of the Wells Fargo Center.
Another season, another Sixers disappointment.
Then, midway through the third, the crowd starts screaming in the far corner of the arena. The PA system starts playing 2Pac's "Ambitionz Az A Ridah," and Allen Iverson emerges from the tunnel. He's wearing Timberlands, jeans, and a silk shirt. A fan throws him a throwback Iverson jersey from the stands. He walks over to Doug Collins and smacks him in the f***ing face, just because. This is AI's team now.
Then it's time to work. He literally breaks Rajon Rondo's ankles. Game over, Rajon. He scores 2...4...8... and then 12 straight points. Nobody can stop him. The camera pans to Spencer Hawes on the bench, nodding his head. Hawes knows what's up. Bubba Chuck is home.
Suddenly Boston's 27-point lead is down to five. It's the fourth now, and Iverson's scored the past 24 points for Philly. TNT's announcers are speechless. Garnett walks over to the Sixers bench and tells em, "F*** y'all b**** if think this gonna be mothaf***in fairytale s***." Iverson doesn't say a word. He sips from a nearby Gatorade cup full of Hypnotiq and smokes a Newport. A machine's gotta have fuel.
Then he walks back onto the court and pokes Garnett in the chest. He makes a throat-slashing motion. David Stern sits six rows behind the Sixers bench, horrified by what's unfolding.
Beanie Siegel is coaching the Sixers now. Meek Mill has been shooting dice with Lou Williams and Lavoy Allen during every timeout. Fans have been standing for the past 45 minutes. The PA system has been playing "Reservoir Dogs" on repeat the entire time. The game gets going again and Iverson's on the break, with only Greg Stiemsma is between him and two points.
He crosses left, then right, and blurs past him.
Stiemsma crumbles to the floor in a heap. Tyronn Lue 2012. Lavoy Allen barks at him from the sideline. 3-point game. Iverson steals the inbound, nails a fall-away three over Paul Pierce.
Off in the corner, Jadakiss cackles. There's less than a minute left and it's a tie game. Beanie Siegel puts $10,000 on the scorers' table, and challenges Doc Rivers to put his ones up.
Iverson's got the ball, he walks it up the court. The rest of the Sixers stand and watch. The Celtics swarm him and doesn't matter. He does the crossover from that one Reebok commercial and spins toward the hoop. Garnett and Pierce are waiting, but they can't stop history. Iverson throws his body into both of them, and heaves the ball toward the rim. It bobbles once, twice, three times around the rim, but of course it falls in, right as time expires. The Philly crowd is chanting again. "M-V-P! M-V-P!"
David Stern throws his hands up, helpless. The ecstasy cascades from the nosebleeds down to center court. The people's champ did it again. But then, as the M-V-P chants rain down, he vanishes in a cloud of Newport smoke, and all that's left at center court is his jersey.
Just like that, Bubba Chuck is gone forever.
