"MISUNDERSTOOD." That's the epitaph Allen Iverson once said he wanted on his gravestone. The word defined him in his 20s, a cantankerous and contradictory decade for the NBA star.

On one level he endeared himself to underdogs and kids alike as the toughest little daredevil in the NBA with his relentless attack on the basket. On another he estranged himself from mainstreamers as a defiant Generation Xer who defensively justified his rebellious bravado.

Not anymore. Seven months after celebrating his 30th birthday, five months after the birth of his fourth child and 2½ months after the tip-off of his 10th season, Iverson has reinvented himself as one of sport's most transcendental stars. He has not only rearmed his high-octane game but recast his image.

The evolution of Allen Iverson

By Greg Boeck, USA TODAY

"MISUNDERSTOOD." That's the epitaph Allen Iverson once said he wanted on his gravestone. The word defined him in his 20s, a cantankerous and contradictory decade for the NBA star.

Iverson has reinvented himself as one of sports' most transcendental stars, rearming his high-octane game and recasting his image. Iverson has reinvented himself as one of sports' most transcendental stars, rearming his high-octane game and recasting his image. By George Widman, AP

On one level he endeared himself to underdogs and kids alike as the toughest little daredevil in the NBA with his relentless attack on the basket. On another he estranged himself from mainstreamers as a defiant Generation Xer who defensively justified his rebellious bravado.

Not anymore. Seven months after celebrating his 30th birthday, five months after the birth of his fourth child and 2½ months after the tip-off of his 10th season, Iverson has reinvented himself as one of sport's most transcendental stars. He has not only rearmed his high-octane game but recast his image.

Unfathomingly, the Philadelphia 76ers guard has added a step at a fragile age and size (6-1, 165) when most in basketball expected him to lose one. He says he's playing smarter.

"It's just learning the game more," Iverson says. "Just trying to approach it in a John Stockton-type of way, to where you don't play so much with your physical ability all the time. You have to think the game out a lot more. That's where I'm a lot better. I know the game a lot more. I see things before they happen a lot."

Entering tonight's home game against the Utah Jazz, the four-time NBA scoring champ is averaging a career-best 33.3 points (second to Kobe Bryant's 34.1) and, at 45.2%, challenging his career best in field goal percentage (46.1%). Iverson's also leading (through Monday) in average minutes (43.1), field goal attempts (882) and free throw attempts (385), is fourth in steals (2.1) and is eighth in assists (7.3) — all on a 17-17 team.

Off the court, he's grown as well, reshaping his image — as a leader who no longer rocks the team boat; as a model NBA citizen who even adheres to the new dress code; as a patriot who considers playing for the U.S. Olympic team an honor instead of an imposition; and as a father who doesn't want to embarrass his children.

The dramatic transformation of the six-time All-Star and 2001 MVP hasn't gone unnoticed. Strait-laced, NBA old-schooler Jerry Colangelo, the new USA Basketball boss, says it's the "new Allen Iverson," and NBA Commissioner David Stern applauds Iverson as an "international icon."

Almost overnight, more and more marketers are lining up at Iverson's doorstep, his agent says, and basketball insiders are saluting him for more than his NBA prowess and this season's MVP résumé. ESPN analyst Mark Jackson, who once chased Iverson in the backcourt, is one of the leaders of the bandwagon.

In the same breath that Jackson says Iverson is the "greatest little man" who played, he says, "He's no longer misunderstood. He's admired, appreciated, respected."

Respected. The word strikes a chord with Iverson. Sitting at his locker before a game last week against the Phoenix Suns, his face lights up when it's suggested that maybe it's time to bury the old epitaph and go for a new one: "RESPECTED."

"I'd love to have that," Iverson says, "because it's more positive than misunderstood. I definitely feel it coming. It's still going to have a lot to do with how I handle myself and my life."

Veering in a different direction

He has lived his life like he plays the game — hellbent, full-bore ahead.

Iverson's agenda has been consistent. Get to the basket, even against 7-1, 340-pound goliaths such as Shaquille O'Neal. Get to the point, even with my-way-or-the-highway coaches such as Larry Brown. Both ways he took a pounding, on the court or in the court of public opinion. And bounced back.

By Matt Sayles, AP "It's just learning the game more. Just trying to approach it in a John Stockton-type of way, to where you don't play so much with your physical ability all the time. You have to think the game out a lot more. That's where I'm a lot better. I know the game a lot more. I see things before they happen a lot." — Allen Iverson

"I like him because he's sort of like me," says O'Neal, the Miami Heat star. "He does it his way — how he talks, how he dresses, how he plays, what he does."

"What you see," Jackson says, "is what you get."

What you get is the new and improved package: a 30-year-old maturing even more as a person than as a player. "Way more," Iverson says.

He has said that previously. False alarm.

Now he's living it. "He has matured, absolutely, unequivocally," Heat coach Pat Riley says.

Closer to home, Sixers coach Maurice Cheeks sees a huge change. "His approach to people, to the game, is totally different," says Cheeks, an assistant with the team when Iverson arrived out of Georgetown as the top pick of the 1996 draft. "He's figured out how to be successful, what he needs to do to grow and get better as a player and person."

Iverson is clearly proudest of the latter. "It's always been in me as a player physically, but once you make yourself a better person, it helps you become a better basketball player because you concentrate on things that better yourself."

Such as fatherhood. Iverson became a parent at 19, when his daughter Tiaura was born in 1994. She and brother Allen II (Deuce), born two years later, were too young to read about their father's early missteps with authority figures, particularly his infamous tug-of-wars with Brown, his coach for six years. Iverson wasn't fond of practice back then. Nor was he a candidate for best teammate.

That has changed with his age, but mostly the aging of his eldest children. Tiaura is 11, Deuce, 9. Iverson says he has learned to "value" his fatherhood. He and his wife, Tawanna, also are parents of 2-year-old Isaiah Rahsaan and 5-month-old Messiah.

"It's that," Iverson says, "and knowing how much a child needs you and needs that direction to be successful."

He pauses. "My daughter is older and can read the paper, and she does know what's going on. My son, as well. You don't want to do anything to harm them or embarrass them or not be the type of role model you want to be for them.

"That's what I concentrate on now, trying to do things the right way, so I can be able to discipline them."

Identifying with the underdog

In Philadelphia, he has become a homebody. At training camp for the 2004 U.S. Olympic team, he was seen hanging out at the pool with his kids. He says his family is "the best team in the world" and his home "my safe haven."

"Without them, I think sometimes I might be willing to commit suicide because of everything that goes on. I deal with people who expect me to be a perfect basketball player and a perfect person. That's the territory that comes with being in the NBA. People don't expect you to act human, to make mistakes. But it's not like that."

It only seems appropriate that Iverson has found himself through his children. From the moment he stepped into the league and challenged the big boys inside, he has been a magnet for kids. They flock to him, even in China, drawn by his big heart and sheer will to beat the odds. Sales of his jersey are second only to Heat guard Dwyane Wade.

"He teaches them they can dream," says Gary Moore, his manager and mentor.

Underdogs identify with him, too.

"People who have fought hard all their lives appreciate a guy that size who takes the hits he does," says former 17-year NBA player Eddie Johnson, a Suns TV analyst. "The way he plays has overshadowed all the other stuff he's had happen off the court. Not many players are able to combat that, but he's been able to."

The world began to notice a different Iverson at the 2004 Olympics. He stood proud and patriotic — the good American even in the face of defeat in Athens, where the USA finished with the bronze medal. "His constructive attitude in Athens demonstrated that with age comes maturity and with that some wisdom," Stern says.

That was evident the way Iverson played hard for his old sparring partner, Brown, the Olympic coach. "Looking back on everything that happened with me and coach, 99% of the time it was my fault," he says. "I see that now, definitely. ... Now that he's gone, you understand you lost a lot."

Iverson looks back differently at a lot of things. "A lot of the bad perceptions that people had of me were because of the things I can control — and things I let get out of control. Not being mature enough to understand it back then, I went through the things I went through for all those years."

Still tough as they get

Times have changed. Leon Rose, his agent, says he can't keep up with endorsement offers. Colangelo went out of his way last week to meet with Iverson in Phoenix to discuss committing to the 2006 world championships and the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Iverson said he would be "honored."

Iverson is evolving into the type of leader who can bring the USA back to the top of the international game. His growing game is rendering speechless observers who thought his go-for-broke style would leave him bruised, battered and on the decline when he hit 30. "I remember telling people he wouldn't last 10 years," Johnson says. "He's proven me wrong. I apologize."

Jackson also is shaking his head. He foresaw Iverson going the way of Earl Campbell, the former pro football running back whose skills slid perceptibly from the poundings he took once he hit 30. "It hasn't happened, amazingly, with this guy. And it doesn't even seem like it's going to," Jackson says.

Teammate Chris Webber says Iverson is a "freak of nature. Sometimes, your mentality overrides what your body says. His mentality is to attack, attack, attack."

If he's not the fiercest player in the league, Iverson is undisputedly the toughest — "pound-for-pound," Riley says.

Iverson says he has been blessed. And motivated. "So many people say, 'Well, you know he's in his 10th year, he's going to break down. He can only be declining.' I want to prove them wrong."