We all know that Allen Iverson has been traded.  Welcome home, Chauncey.  But before we can look at the future, we must acknowledge the past.

When I watch an NBA game in person, so many thoughts race through my head.  Part of me is watching the game like I would any game on TV, just enjoying the game.  Part of me is watching for the nuances and analysis that you can only garner through watching basketball in person.  And part of me is thinking about the players I'm watching, and how they fit into history.  I've been fortunate enough to see many elite players of our generation.  Barkley, Olajuwon, and Drexler during their farewell tour on the Rockets.  Garnett (in limited action), Ray Allen, and Pierce last year when the Celtics came to town and the Nuggs won in one of the most electrifying games I've ever seen.  Dwayne Wade.  Shaq (twice).  Nash.  The list goes on.

I never got to see Jordan, I've yet to see Kobe or LeBron.  Because of this, the top of my list reads Allen Iverson.  Hands down, he has been my favorite player to watch in person.  In the land of giants, this scrappy warrior threw his body with reckless abandon, and absolute effort, every night.  Even the games I saw where AI was off his game and not shooting well, I was still always impressed by his game.  He's one of those players that everyone recognizes as a great player, but few truly understand and appreciate his greatness.  Wade received a ton of praise for throwing his body into the fray, taking hits, making circus shots, and getting back up.  As I mentioned before, I've seen Wade in person, and the praise is deserved.  But people stopped heaping that praise on Iverson a long time ago.  Maybe we got used to seeing it out of him.  Maybe we came to expect it, rather than appreciate what a rarity it is.  Wade's recent rash of injuries should remind us of the other incredible aspect of Iverson's game, his toughness.  Iverson often lands like a rag doll, just to get right back up again.  And again, we take it for granted.

Perhaps as we watch Iverson's brilliance continue in Detroit, we'll suddenly remember what we've lost, much in the same way you forget a longtime girlfriend's strengths until the day she walks out on you.  Only we asked Iverson to leave. 

I watched Iverson's press conference in Detroit.  He still has that childlike wonder in his eyes.  He's still laughing and having fun.  And he's still my favorite player to watch.  I'm just disappointed I didn't take advantage more often, make the trek from Colorado Springs up to Denver a little more often, catch a few more games.

I've never seen Billups play in person.  I'm looking forward to it.  And I can't wait to see Denver's reaction the first time he's introduced.  But those introductions will feel incomplete.  I'll ask myself why.  And I'll miss the Answer.