The Allen Iverson Experiment in Memphis Was a Wild Success

For some inexplicable reason I find Allen Iverson to be much more fascinating at this point in his career than when he was winning scoring titles and leading his team to the NBA Finals. You’ll have to forgive me for writing about him again and again.

My topic today isn’t strictly Iversonian, either; it’s more about the Memphis Grizzlies. Specifically, what a brilliant move it was to bring The Answer to Memphis.

To give some background, the Grizzlies’ history is far from illustrious. After averaging around 17 wins a season for six years in Vancouver they moved to Memphis, and briefly found their footing with Pau Gasol at the helm. With the Spaniard leading the way they were still only able to muster three playoff appearances, and got swept in the first round every time. Since that last appearance in 2006 they’ve rejoined the league’s bottom-feeders, maxing out at 24 wins in 2008-2009.

Signing Allen Iverson was, by most accounts, a disaster. AI played in only three games, and started none of them even though his stats were actually quite good—in his short 22 minutes of play time, he led the team at a 26.5 points-per-48 clip, with an additional 7.9 assists-per-48. But finally the ignominy of coming off the bench was too great, and he bolted for somewhere where he could be top dog.

In the end, signing Allen Iverson may have been the smartest move the Grizz could have made. If nothing else, it has reminded a nation of fans and media that Memphis is, in fact, a stop on the NBA bus line and actually a team worth noting for the future.

In the AI free agency, the Grizzlies had stumbled upon a situation in which they couldn’t lose. If Iverson ended up being an honest-to-goodness boon to the team’s performance, then the benefit is obvious. But if not? The fact that Iverson had exploded before, in Detroit (and I suppose I should include Philly?) protected Memphis from being seen as the enemy.

It’s clearly understood that Iverson wronged Memphis, and not the other way around; the Grizzlies enjoyed a few rare weeks in the national spotlight, and came off as a young, talented team that gave a veteran star a shot in the twilight of his career.

Think about it. Before the Iverson debacle, would you have been able to name the Grizzlies’ starting point guard, that Iverson took a backseat to? It’s Mike Conley, he was even a #4 overall pick for crying out loud, but as a west-coaster I wouldn’t have had his name immediately on the tip of my tongue. I can now name a whole Grizzled starting lineup, without missing a beat: Conley, O.J. Mayo, Rudy Gay, Z-Bo, and Marc Gasol—whereas a few months ago I wouldn’t have put all five together so easily.

Instead I now find myself invested in this young, talented lineup. I’m checking scores to see if Gay and Mayo are pushing this team to new heights, and I’m about ready to crown Gasol as the league’s most improved player this year.

My hunch is that the additional exposure in the media from Iversongate will be absolutely invaluable to this team. The more times Gay and Mayo’s names are shouted in the media, and heard by a nation of fans fueled by ESPN’s gatekeeping, the closer they’ll get to All-Star games and national recognition. Getting at least one player in an All-Star East uniform would be a major coup for this team that has only had one All-Star in its history (Pau in 2006). Having high-level marquee players puts a team on the radar for free agents, and thus some media attention can snowball into legitimate roster improvements.

In essence, the Grizzlies paid for three games of Allen Iverson’s services, and in return got more national attention than they’ve gotten in the last three years combined. It’s as though there wasn’t enough of a stir caused when they made the nearly-insane-but-now-paying-off trade to get the troubled Zach Randolph, so they went up the ladder one rung and brought home Iverson. And it was a brilliant PR move.

The concept that “any press is good press” that seems to apply to the Grizzlies is a point of contention in the public relations industry, and is fallacious for well-established entities in almost every circumstance. Negative coverage can be extraordinarily damaging, not only in short-term sales (in this case, ticket sales) but in the long-term health of a brand. The proliferation of social media has multiplied the effects by, let’s say, a billion—ideas spread more quickly and are consumed more thoroughly across the world than ever before, by a mind-boggling margin.

That said, the Grizzlies didn’t even get any bad press out of this whole deal. None of the thousands of articles written about Iverson’s snub painted Memphis as a team unfit to watch; at the very worst they’ve returned to their old forgettable selves, and at best they’ve become worth tuning in to see, now that we know so much more about their breadth of young talent. None of the press harmed the product. Good press.

What the Grizz got instead was drama, and the net effect of drama is hooking in repeat viewers to see how the drama unfolds and finally concludes. Allen Iverson in this situation was Tracy on The Biggest Loser or Sanjaya on American Idol—a pox, an irritant that we’re happy to see go, but who has dramatically upped the entertainment value of its vehicle in the process.

Then again, maybe I’m the only one. Am I the only one that was 100% apathetic about the forgettable Grizzles, but now wants to see this young, dynamic team start living up to its extremely-high potential?

Call it what you like. I’m calling the Allen Iverson experiment in Memphis a success.