Ramsey: Iverson must set table if Nuggets are to feast

DENVER -- Allen Iverson ranks among the best showmen in NBA history.

He’s the little man — a mere 6-foot, 160 pounds — who defies the snarling giants lurking in the lane. Here’s the problem — he’s never quite grown into a great player. His obsession with the wondrous skills of Allen Iverson prevents him from transforming into a force who pushes his team to its zenith.

Iverson plays with distinctive passion, but he must add generosity to his bag of tricks for the Denver Nuggets to dream of a trip to the NBA Finals.

Iverson spent a decade in Philadelphia surrounded by mediocre talent. That’s not his problem in Denver. The pieces are there. He can pass to Carmelo Anthony, one of the league’s top five offensive talents. He can pass to Nene, a massive force in the middle.

He doesn’t need to keep launching ridiculously difficult shots. He needs to tone down his show, which is and always will be fun to watch, and pursue victories over glamour.

So far, the evidence is less than encouraging. After three games, Iverson is shooting 34 percent from the field. In the past two games, he’s missed 27 shots and made 12.

He’s the same old Allen the Anarchist, the human blur. You can’t cover him. You can’t coach him. You can’t win big with him.

Iverson says all the right things. Last week he talked for several minutes about his hunger for a title. In person, Iverson is frank and friendly, much more the family man of today than the infamous party animal of yesterday.

“We have to sacrifice,” Iverson said in his earnest, sandpaper voice. “My numbers aren’t going to be what they usually were in the past, and Carmelo’s numbers might not be, either, but it’s important for us to sacrifice and do whatever it takes to make up a great basketball team.

“You know, I don’t think too many guys are worrying about individual accolades. Our goal is to win a championship and everybody can’t score all the points. ... It’s about everybody contributing everything they have and trying to make us a great team.”

A fine speech, and Iverson seemed to mean every word. Yet he has, so far, declined to alter his act. He’s shooting as much as he ever did. He’s ignoring open teammates while attempting wild shots. The Nuggets will travel nowhere special with Iverson shooting so often and so erratically.

The Nuggets could surprise the basketball nation if Iverson quits trying to play like a 6-foot version of Michael Jordan and instead plays like a miniature version of Magic Johnson.

That’s what this team requires. Iverson must, finally, become a true point guard. This won’t be easy.

He’s still, even in the twilight of his career, blessed with mind-boggling quickness. Last season, Iverson blazed to 44 points and 15 assists against the Suns’ Steve Nash, who was lucky his hair didn’t get singed.

But those nights are the exception. For the long haul of the season, Iverson must pass first, shoot second.

Can this change of court personality happen?

Yes.

Mark Aguirre and Bob McAdoo and, most recently, Michael Finley were me-first players who, finally, embraced teamwork. All three won NBA titles in their 30s.

Iverson is surrounded with enough talent to dream of his own ring. Sure, the Nuggets must conquer the Spurs and the Mavericks and the Suns, but they could take a long, glorious ride in the playoffs if Iverson converts from showman to team-first point guard.

And that remains one big if.