Prime Video’s Allen Iv3rson follows the journey of 11-time NBA All-Star Allen Iverson from Newport News, Va., to his career in the NBA, covering his life both on and off the court.
The three-part docuseries gives a behind-the-scenes look at some of the most iconic moments from his Hall of Fame career — from the legendary “practice” press conference to his relationship with former Sixers coach Larry Brown.
But the project goes beyond the court, covering the life of Bubba Chuck and his roots in Stuart Gardens Apartments. The series, produced and directed by One9, is a story of sacrifice, perseverance, and staying true to oneself.
“I think the truth comes out in their memories and it’s very unfiltered,” One9 said. “No one’s ever sat with him to get the raw honest truth. And I felt that if he was able to give me what he left on the court, what he gave to the game. If he was able to give me that in this film — that same raw, relentless, authentic heart — then we’re going to have something epic.
“You can find moments in this film that will inspire you, give you reason to reflect on how things in his life may resonate with what’s happening in anyone’s life. A lot of it deals with sacrifice. It deals with discipline, resilience, just speaking your uncompromising truth, and being true to who you are.”
The series features appearances from his family, former players, former Sixers president Pat Croce, and Brown. Here’s what we learned from Allen Iv3rson, which premieres Tuesday night at the Philadelphia Film Festival and is set to release on Prime Video on Thursday …
Bubba Chuck from Newport News
Most of Iverson’s friends won’t call him by his government name. Instead, they call him by his nickname “Bubba Chuck,” which is a combination of his uncles’ names. Growing up in Newport News, his uncles Stephen and Gregory Iverson were important male role models.
“From the time he was walking, he was always with us, and 90% of the time we’re at the basketball court,” Greg said. “He used to sit there and cry and want to get in the game. He was so small. I called him a crybaby because he would always cry all the time because he wanted to play, he wanted to come with us.”
Iverson added: “I wanted to be like my uncles because they were my heroes. I saw excellence in both of them. They were the rocks of our family.”
A good portion of the series covers Iverson’s relationship with his family as he grew up in the area’s low-income housing. The docuseries shows how Iverson went from hustling on the streets as a young kid to support his family to becoming a neighborhood icon with a street named after him.
“My heart is always going to be here,” Iverson said. “This is who I am. This is what made me who I am, you know what I mean? When I look at this, I think of the people from here. My life in these streets prepared me for the rest of the world. To me, this was my only world right here. Wherever I‘m at in life, I carry y’all with me. I come from the trenches. I come from where you can’t survive being weak.”
From City Farm to Georgetown
Iverson found success in football and basketball when he was younger, leading Bethel High School to state titles in both sports within the same year. He was highly sought by different colleges until an incident at a bowling alley changed his trajectory.
On Valentine’s Day in 1993, a 17-year-old Iverson went to a local bowling alley where things escalated quickly. A brawl eventually broke out, which allegedly stemmed from racial epithets said by white men in the alley.
“An argument started, all hell broke loose,” Iverson said. “First, when it was going on, I was watching. And then I saw somebody get beat real bad. And that’s when it clicked in my head like, ‘Yo, it’s time to go.’”
Iverson was arrested and sentenced to 15 years in prison for his role in the incident — which resulted in no serious injuries. The case led to heightened racial tensions in Virginia.
“It was crazy because Virginia was divided because of me,” Iverson said. “It was tough seeing it on the news every day, the chaos of it all. I had this one [guard], man, this dude used to [expletive] with me so bad all the time. He just would not stop. Tawanna would come up to me … We would be holding hands and he would separate our hands, push us back.
“And then they used to have the scarecrow outside the jail with my jersey on, hanging from a noose. The mail that came in for me every day was hate mail. And then I had death threats every single day.”
Iverson’s sentencing received plenty of national attention. His mother, Ann, held a number of marches and boycotts to help get her son out of jail. Eventually, the 18-year-old was granted clemency by Gov. Douglas Wilder and was released after four months in prison.
But Ann’s job wasn’t done.
Before Iverson was released she went to Georgetown coach John Thompson to beg him to bring her son to the Hoyas.
”I went to John Thompson,” Ann said. “He said, ‘Well, I’m not going to take Allen because I’m not recruiting Allen.’ And I just broke down. I broke down. I said, ‘If you don’t take him, somebody is going to hurt him because he lives in an environment that is not good. I’m scared.’ I asked him to put my son under his wing. He hugged me and he said, ‘I got you, baby girl, I got you.’ He said, ‘Because you’re the only Black momma that ever came up in here and said what they said about their son. And I got him. If he gets out of jail, I’ll take him.’”
Relationship with John Thompson
Iverson had it rough from fans in other arenas during his first year at Georgetown, including during a game at the Spectrum in Philadelphia.
“Every time I went to shoot a free throw they’re screaming, ‘Jailbird! Jailbird!’” Iverson recalled. “I remember when we went to Villanova there were four guys with orange jumpsuits on and they had chains on. Coach [Thompson] took us off the floor and said we’re not going to play if they don’t get them out of there.
“[Thompson] protected me. I didn’t talk to the media. He didn’t let people attack me like they wanted to. He taught me everything. He would call me throughout my career and we never would talk about basketball. We always talked about life.”
In his first season at Georgetown, Iverson won Big East Rookie of the Year, and was named to the All Rookie Tournament First Team. His second year, he led the team to a Big East championship and into the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament. After that season, he declared for the NBA draft.
“When I made the decision to leave Georgetown, it was a lot of hoopla because no player ever left Georgetown early,” Iverson said. “I knew after the season that I could be in the top five. When I found out that Philly was getting the first pick, I knew I had a real chance, a good chance at being the No. 1 pick. I just wanted to be an NBA basketball player. That’s the only thing that mattered to me. I was going to play every game like it was my last.”
‘Butting heads’ with Larry Brown
Iverson was drafted with the first overall pick in 1996, a stacked draft that included Ray Allen, Kobe Bryant, and Steve Nash. Despite a 22-60 record, he found quick success, earning Rookie of the Year and making highlight reel plays — including crossing over Michael Jordan.
After his rookie year, Larry Brown was hired as the Sixers coach; he didn’t completely see eye-to-eye with Iverson.
“We butted heads,” Iverson said. “I was immature, somewhat high-strung, didn’t see the big picture. … I had him all wrong. He had the blueprint already.
“He was able to make everyone else better by making me better. He just was a masterful coach. Billy King, and Pat [Croce], they put them guys around me that were willing to let me dominate. It was basically, you kill like you kill. And your deficiencies, the things you can’t do, we’re going to do all of those things.”
At first, Brown and Iverson had a complicated relationship. It boiled over when Iverson didn’t show up to practice in 2002, leading to the legendary “practice” press conference.
“[Iverson] called me that night, late at night,” said Croce. “[He said], ‘I want Larry Brown fired.’ Larry Brown calls me, ‘You trade [Iverson] tomorrow. … Get rid of him.’ I said, ‘We’ll meet tomorrow. We’ll meet at the training facility.’ We went into this board room and it was ugly.
“Larry didn’t want to be called to the same level as his player. I didn’t care. ‘You’re not getting traded. And you’re not getting fired. I’ve never told either one of you what to do but I’m telling you right now. You’re both staying.’ … I said, ‘Both of you have the same love of basketball. Both of you have the intention and desire to win.’ I said, ‘You’re both looking in the mirror. Drop it.’ Allen got up, walked around the table, Larry stood up and he hugged and hugged for, it seemed like an eternity.”
Iverson led the Sixers to an appearance in the 2001 NBA Finals before falling to a Los Angeles Lakers team led by Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant.
“As a player, he’s one of the greatest players to ever play the game,” O’Neal said. “When it comes to a championship, you have to be on a great team. No disrespect to the Philadelphia 76ers team, Allen Iverson was by himself. So, when it comes to status and recognition, there’s a lot of champions that we don’t even know who they are. But I guarantee you, you know who Allen Iverson is.”
Culture changer
When Iverson was a kid, he didn’t have the best clothes in the neighborhood. Instead, he would wear his sister’s pants for three days of the week, and when he went to prom with Tawanna, who became his wife and the mother of his children, he wore a pair of shoes that were two and a half sizes too small.
“I think he had on sweat socks actually, with his too-small shoes,” Tawanna said. “He complained about it. He didn’t dance at all at prom. After prom, it was like at a sports facility, and he couldn’t wait to get out of his dress shoes and play basketball.”
A few years later, Iverson would never have to worry about wearing shoes two sizes too small again. The young player signed a lifetime contract with Reebok in 1996. Iverson’s impact on the league was transcendent. As a small guard, he revolutionized the way players dressed and carried themselves, inspiring an entire generation to want to be like him.
“I didn’t know I was doing it,” Iverson said. “I did it. But I didn’t know I was doing it. I didn’t know I was securing a way for these guys today to be themselves. I didn’t know I was doing it because I was stuck on, ‘I ain’t doing nothing wrong. I’m being myself.’
“This many years later, taking an a— whooping for it is a blessing. Because now you see you can do your [stuff]. But, Chuck took that a— whooping for it. I just thought it was unfair. And the best part about my God, I just knew I was going to get through it all without folding.”
