But if it's hoops they want, they'd better hope the rust on this 2009 Iverson model wears off fast, because what they got on the court last night for their minimal cash was a clunker. Every time Iverson tried to shift gears, to put his foot on the accelerator and go, the engine sputtered.

From the opening seconds, when he clanked the kind of lay-up he's made a thousand times before off the rim, until Jordan pulled him with 45 seconds remaining, it was almost painful to watch — even for him.

"It's frustrating," he admitted. "Just being out there with guys super fast and not being in rhythm and the shape I wanted to be in. I was still trying to compete at a high level when I know I was outgunned. I don't know how long it'll take. I know it'll take some work. But I can help so much more. I can do so many things on the court as far as taking the attention away from the other guys."

Logic says that's true. But then you look at the big picture. If Allen Iverson can't dart among the trees anymore and is relegated to being a jump shooter — and not a very good one at that — how much can be expected from him?

Time, which for so long has been his ally, may finally be the one opponent he just can't beat anymore.

Shortly after 10 p.m. ET, Iverson left the building, confident tomorrow would be different; insisting practice — of all things — with his new teammates would make him better.

The clock is ticking, though, on A.I. and on the Sixers.

Because after a while, if the show those folks are coming out to see isn't good enough, they just won't come back.