As a child growing up in the 1990's, being a Michael Jordan fan almost seemed natural. Jordan had a complete monopoly on the suburbs and inner city alike, revolutionizing the NBA and the redefining a "brand" in terms of athletes. The Air Jordan sneaker became a status symbol across all races and social classes - anyone could buy them, but not everyone could afford them, or better yet keep them. The respect that came with walking through a school hallway or down the block with the latest Jordan's drove sales through the roof, and despite the never-ending bloodshed that has swept the nation over the last three decades, the mystique lives on. Jordan's on-court moves translated to the parks and gyms of organized teams worldwide, with the No. 23 jersey reserved for the best of the best. Bloody mouths were the result of attempts to wag tongues like Jordan while driving through the lane. The Chicago Bulls six championships through the 90's were just the icing on the cake, all the more reason to solidify Jordan a God. Rumblings of an end to an illustrious career were in the wind long before Jordan pushed off on Byron Russell to win the 1998 NBA Championship. The NBA had lost Jordan to retirement once before, and it seemed like they were in desperate search of a successor, the next face of a growing league. I had just begun to understand the game in 1997 when my love for Jordan was snatched in a single play. The defending champion Bulls traveled to the city of brotherly love to play the Philadelphia 76ers on March 12,1997, a struggling franchise who were hoping their luck would change behind a rookie guard. I was barely old enough to remember Allen Iverson's high school fight at a bowling alley that resulted in his brief incarceration, or his showdown with Ray Allen the and University of Connecticut in the 1996 NCAA Big East Final, but this night would forever change my life.

Iverson had crossed over plenty of people over the first few months of his rookie season, but crossing over Michael Jordan twice made the world take notice. At the top of the key, Iverson gave Jordan a small crossover, shaking him, before immediately crossing him over again and hitting the jumper on the baddest man on the planet. The Bulls won that game, but it forever changed the landscape of basketball.

It seemed like overnight, the playgrounds and boys & girls club leagues had to deal with little Iverson's, referees calling traveling on imitators mocking the high palming crossover that would eventually be banned from the league. Iverson delivered highlights nightly, racking up individual accolades while struggling with the lowly Sixers. As the world took note of his game, his image captivated the youth of the inner city.

From his rookie year, Iverson defied the laws of the game, from riding with loaded guns to jarring off at MJ himself. As with most things in life, people love bad guys, and Iverson's will to be his own man gave him an allure unlike many. The cornrows were just another draw, the stylish designs, adorned with the NBA headband. Sure, cornrows had been around long before Iverson, but some can pull things off better than others. Iverson's hair was as important to him as his game, keeping a braider on-call in case of emergency. This was never more present than when his mom was taped braiding his hair mid-game.

The tattoos were the icing on the cake, at a time when NBA players were ideally clean-cut regardless of their background. Growing up, tattoos were often stereotyped for bikers or convicts, the hardest individuals that showed off their minimal tats at any given opportunity. But to see Iverson's ink sprawled up and down his body at the time was truly amazing.

Basketball players are often remembered by the accessories they wear, like James Worthy and Horace Grant for their goggles, or Richard Hamilton's mask. Slick Watts may have innovated the headband, but he never had stores selling out of them like Iverson. The finger sleeves and elbow pad were one thing, but the arm sleeve was a must-have in the ghetto. It's amazing to hear testaments of people that made an Iverson arm-sleeve out of household items, like their mother's stockings.

Michael Jordan had Spike Lee to help him sell Air Jordans, and Anfernee Hardaway had Chris Rock voicing "Lil Penny", but Iverson's commercials for his signature Reebok kicks with rapper Jadakiss were groundbreaking. Watching Iverson shake and bake throughout the various 60-second commercials while Jadakiss rapped praises about A.I were a sight to see every time.

There is no need to delve into the accomplishments, the 11 All Star Appearances, the 2001 MVP Award, or the 4 Scoring Titles. Iverson's game was much bigger than his size, challenging all comers no matter the size, daring his way into the paint for miraculous buckets. Iverson is often regarded as the Greatest "Pound for Pound" player of all-time, a title well suited. See, Iverson's size is one of the reasons he is so loved. Sure, there are countless smaller players that are etched in NBA history like Muggsy Bogues, Earl Boykins, Nate Robinson and Nate "Tiny" Archibald to name a few. But Iverson played bigger than his size entailed, he made more with less. In the poverty-stricken streets worldwide, there are plenty making more with less, and Iverson's front office struggles in Philly made people appreciate his effort.

The year 2001 was monumental, watching the Sixers will their way to the NBA Finals behind Iverson without any real "help". A past his prime Dikembe Mutombo and a team of solid defenders that constantly failed to step up offensively was all the help Iverson had. In the 2001 playoffs the 76ers defeated 3 Eastern Conference powerhouses that easily could have held their own against the juggernaut Los Angeles Lakers. Iverson took on superstars like Ray Allen, Vince Carter and Reggie Miller and single-handedly triumphed on the way to a Finals appearance against the Lakers in all-out battles that saw the Sixers claw out two 7 Game series wins.

The Lakers were the defending champions with a budding superstar in Kobe Bryant and the most dominant player in the game in Shaquille O'Neal. You would be hard pressed to find anyone who gave the Sixers a fighting chance, yet Iverson's Game 1 performance shook up the world. In a battle against Bryant, Iverson scored 48 points in a winning effort, demoralizing point guard Tyronn Lue in the process.

Iverson stepping over Lue after crossing him and making the basket was the epitome of the disrespect that makes street ball what it is. Some took offense to the gesture, but all is fair in competition.

After 2001, Iverson never got another shot at the Finals, as the Sixers front office failed to make the right moves necessary to find players to compliment. Eventually, the relationship soured, and Iverson joined forces with Carmelo Anthony and the Denver Nuggets. After 2 seasons in Denver, Iverson tested the waters with the Detroit Pistons and Memphis Grizzlies before an uneventful return home to the Sixers.

To many, Iverson will be grouped with legendary losers like Charles Barkley, John Stockton, Patrick Ewing and more. But unlike those aforementioned, Iverson did much more with less help. Iverson's career is a metaphor to his life, the product of a single mother that overcame his circumstances.

From the hair, to the court, to the style that caused the NBA to impose the "A.I Dress Code" in 2005, Iverson changed the game forever in many ways. When street ballers like Rafer Alston and God Shammgod failed to pan out in the league, Iverson translated the playground to the arena. For every superstar guard of today, you can find an aspect of their game that originated from Iverson.

Iverson's career and impact is comparable to the late rapper 2pac, in the sense that their may have been some better, but the impact can never be duplicated. Sure Pac couldn't lyrically hold a candle to The Notorious B.I.G., and Iverson's shooting percentages are a statistical nightmare, but you would be hard-pressed to find two individuals that have had more of an impact on all, from rich to poor.

It will be truly amazing to listen to the Hall of Fame induction speech of a man so brutally criticized long beyond his playing days. The mystery of what he will wear, or say and even who he will thank or shun has already made the moment legendary.

From every 90's baby worldwide, Allen Iverson we thank you.