Watching Iverson a true devotion
Al Harris sits an alley-oop from the basket at the Pepsi Center. He has been a season-ticket holder since Iverson was 5.
Minutes before tipoff of the game against the Washington Wizards, Harris sat calmly while a circus surrounded him — blaring hip-hop and flashing lights, screaming soda vendors and shrieking fans. He is 76 and retired following 30 years in the Air Force. He drives from Aurora for almost every home game.
“Who’s my favorite player? Iverson,” Harris said. “He’s inspiring. It’s the way he plays. He wants to win — I can sense it. It doesn’t matter, really, what he scores. I think he wants an NBA championship. To be honest with you, I think the Nuggets have some good players — but they all don’t think like Iverson. It takes Iverson to get them on track.
“He gives everything.”
A “magic touch” that knows no borders
The upper deck feels 2 miles high.
A series of escalators and stairs takes you to Robert Allen’s seat, the culmination of a trek that begins in Cheyenne.
“It takes 90 minutes each way,” he said. “And it’s worth it. There have been some storms. But we love Carmelo.”
Allen, who has a 10-game season-ticket package, will bring a son or daughter to Denver, and they will squint in awe at Anthony, who will start his first All-Star Game tonight.
“He just has the magic touch,” Allen said. “There are only a few players in the NBA who play the game like Carmelo. He’s a natural. And he’s got a great smile. I love Carmelo.”
Ushering in a new era with affinity for Melo
Beth Shiplett has adored Anthony since he arrived in Denver, but she seldom went to Nuggets games, because “I really didn’t have the money.”
Now, not only does she go to every game, but she gets paid to do so.
Shiplett is an usher at Pepsi Center, where her bubbly personality blends perfectly with her fellow fans. She takes her job seriously, but it’s hard not to gaze on the court and track No. 15, who, on Feb. 8 against Washington, was scoring at a record pace.
“I see him out there sweating, putting his all into it,” she said. “And he interacts with the fans very well. I see him out there, signing (autographs) after the games. He just seems like a real nice guy. And I do like his smile. He’s cute.”
Roop-ing it up a family affair
Dad works night shifts at Pizza Hut, so he couldn’t make the trip from Pueblo to Pepsi Center. Instead, Grandma accompanied Courtney Roop, a junior in high school, to see Roop’s hero in person.
Normally, Roop will watch Iverson and the Nuggets on Grandma’s television. Then, she will head to her father’s place, and the father and daughter will watch the taped game after he arrives home, generally around 11 p.m.
“Even if it’s a school night,” Roop said.
This night, at Pepsi Center, Roop furiously snaps photos of A.I. Her grandmother, Maria Aragon, fervently cheers with the enthusiasm of a first-year fan. Roop finally roped her grandmother into following the Nuggets this season.
“She saw how excited we’d get, screaming, jumping up and down,” Roop said. “Now, if somebody makes a cool play, my grandmother is screaming.
“She’s hooked.”
Roop owns five Nuggets jerseys, including two with No. 3. She watches every game.
“Every game,” she stressed.
But, for years, her favorite player played for Philadelphia. The night Roop heard about the Iverson trade: “Me and my dad went crazy.”
Roop’s parents are separated. Asked what keeps the family strong, Roop said: “The Nuggets. Everyone comes together and gets really into it.”
Wish upon a star . . . and it may come true
Anthony’s biggest fan didn’t even see Anthony’s career-high 49 points on this night.
“I had some chores to do,” sighed 14-year-old Alexander McIntosh.
Whenever the Nuggets are on, McIntosh is fixated on his television in Harrisburg, Pa. But at halftime this night, his father said there were chores to be done. Dad’s the boss. And, who knew Anthony could keep up his scoring surge?
“I saw the highlights later that night,” McIntosh said. “My dad felt a little bad.”
Two days prior, McIntosh was among friends at Pepsi Center to watch the Nuggets. It was his wish. And after his Acute Myelogenous Leukemia went into remission, the Make-A-Wish Foundation granted it.
McIntosh and his mother, Deborah, flew out to Denver. At the morning shootaround, with his heart beating like a night club, the AML survivor met his hero. The superstar, plastered on his bedroom wall, had come to life.
McIntosh guarded Anthony in an impromptu one-on-one game. Then, Anthony brought the teenager into the locker room and gave him a tour as well as numerous gifts, including an autographed jersey. That night, McIntosh sat courtside.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing,” McIntosh said. “I’m never going to have a chance like this again.”
The AML is back. Doctors detected it last week. McIntosh will have to return to the hospital, this time, for a bone marrow transplant.
When asked about Anthony, McIntosh continuously gushed. Maybe McIntosh doesn’t realize it, but heroism is relative.
“AML is a hard one to keep away, but he is a strong man,” Deborah McIntosh said. “Definitely stronger than his mommy.”
A fond farewell to clamoring masses
When the game against Washington was over, frenzied Pepsi Center fans hurried down to the first row by the tunnel, hoping to capture one final glimpse of their heroes.
Blocked by the barricades, the fans, tightly packed like sardines in a can, lunged forward and waved their arms at the tall passersby. Iverson nodded appreciatively to his fans, while their praising shriek of “A.Iiiiiiiii” trailed him into the tunnel.
Anthony, appropriately, was last. He paced through the forest of fans high-fiving the outstretched hands and smiled his smile.
