Allen Iverson had started the summer bringing the world on a trip to his own personal planet, a long, unforgettable diatribe of The Answer Unplugged, an $80 million superstar searching for sympathy on his relentless pursuit of a life without basketball practice.

It was a window into the parallel universe in which Iverson lives, a detachment of responsibility and reality that was punctuated with him screaming that nobody wanted to be him. Nobody wanted his life, his burdens. Nobody would trade places with him.

When Iverson needed to be told he wasn't the victim in his pitiful arrest on an endless list of criminal trespass, assault and threatening with a gun, however, there was his employer, the 76ers, enabling as always.

"I told him to come on over here and work out with our guys and be with family," 76ers coach Larry Brown said. "He's hurting."

Iverson is hurting?

How about the two men living inside the Philadelphia apartment where police say Iverson exploded through the door, allegedly assaulted them, threatening and exposing a gun clinging to the inside of his waistband?

How are those two doing today? Are they hurtin' like The Answer? Still shaking in fear? Are they still terrified of taking on the biggest, baddest sports star in Philadelphia? How about his wife, the one a 911 call insists was thrown out the front door, onto the front lawn naked by her husband? How about his two kids? Did they have to witness this alleged bid for Father of the Year?

Nobody needs to wonder why Iverson's tired act is never truly taken to task. He believes he's bulletproof, invincible. And just when is someone going to show him this isn't so? Welcome to the jock culture, where missing practice gets you an organization's scorn, but felony charges get you complete, unconditional solidarity.

	Welcome to the jock culture, where missing practice gets you an organization's scorn but felony charges get you complete, unconditional solidarity.

If Iverson is convicted, NBA commissioner David Stern needs to come down hard on him. He's one of the most popular players in pro ball -- the gulf between Iverson and Shaq, say, is about the same as the gulf between the Lakers and the Nets.

This is the reason Iverson has a greater responsibility to live his professional and personal life with some measure of decency -- and why the league will need to suspend him for a good, long time should these charges transform into a conviction.

"I'm just hopeful that this gets resolved and the kid can move on with his life," Brown said. "That's the only thing that's important right now."

That's the important thing, that Iverson can move on his with his life? This is a joke, right? Just maybe, Allen Iverson needs to stop here and start being responsible for himself. Move on?

Before the Philadelphia police chief insisted that Iverson risked arrest should he leave his home this weekend before turning himself in Tuesday, Brown said, "I told him to come on over here and work out with our guys and be with family. I think that was the best advice I could give him."

The best advice would be to make things right with his family -- his real family. The 76ers aren't his family, they're his employers. They tried to trade him two years ago. And they would do it again now, if his trade value hadn't bottomed out with his arrest. Professional basketball teams are families like the 10 strangers at a grocery checkout counter. And the 76ers, of all organizations? The Addams Family, maybe.

Listen, nobody expects the 76ers to convict Iverson. Who knows how many of these 14 felony counts are going to make it past the pre-trial hearing? Iverson has a big-time law firm on his side, and is a beloved celebrity in the city. This makes convicting him a tough proposition.

And let's face it: At worst, Iverson's conduct on July 3rd was felonious. At best, it was a complete embarrassment as a husband, a father and the face of a multi-million professional sports franchise.

The way Iverson sees it, anyway, this is someone else's concern. He has a powerful Philadelphia dream team of lawyers to get him out of this mess, and the 76ers are waiting with open arms for a return to a season of sellouts.

Yet, when this ordeal is over, the commissioner has to send the message that the 76ers apparently are unwilling to send: Iverson is an embarrassment to the NBA, a one-man wrecking crew to basketball's plummeting public perception.

This time, it isn't hateful lyrics on a rap album and poor practice habits. These are stone-cold, serious felony charges. Move on? Get this behind him?

For once, why doesn't Larry Brown and everyone else insisting they care for Allen Iverson make him stop and take control of his life.

If nothing else, Iverson needs to stay here now, get his life together and tell his coach he doesn't need to escape down at the gym working out with the team. He made his trouble at home. Let him stay there, let him fix it and let him understand, once and for all: Allen Iverson isn't a victim, just a complete embarrassment.

Adrian Wojnarowski, a sports columnist for The Record (Northern N.J.), is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.