Answer isn't clear in all this

Questions follow Iverson as he is traded to Detroit

AI is on the move.

He is an enormously popular, can-do-no-wrong player in the eyes of his constituents, who have anointed him as the ultimate counterculture player - suit? necktie? tie shoes? you crazy? - but Allen Iverson is just a basketball commodity to the basketball establishment, and now he has been traded for a second time in less than two years.

"The Answer" is what his adoring public calls him. Well, today's question is, "Can you win a championship with Allen Iverson as your best player?"

Thus far, the answer is no, and AI is now 33. This means he is a) past his physical peak and b) set in his ways. There is a chance I'm wrong about the first one, but there isn't much doubt about the second one.

Iverson has been traded from the Denver Nuggets to the Detroit Pistons, a team that needs a change of something. Call it change of pace, call it what you wish, but it was evident by their play against the Celtics in the 2008 playoffs that the window for that core group had closed. A team that had the talent and knowl edge to win multiple championships was going to hold itself to just one title for reasons the rest of us will never know.

What is shocking about this transaction is the sobering thought that the Pistons have cold-bloodedly acquired him with a larger idea in mind. Can Allen Iverson deal with the idea that he has not really been brought to Auburn Hills to help the Pistons win an NBA championship, that he is, in addition to being an experienced player of note, that most desirable of NBA items, an expiring contract?

Oh, the indignity.

But that is the immediate assumption the experts are making. Detroit general manager Joe Dumars has acquired Allen Iverson as much for his contract as his skill. Iverson's $21,937,500 contract is up at the end of the season. Rasheed Wallace's $14 million deal will likewise soon be history. Dumars is positioning himself for the luscious free agent crop of 2010 that will include LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, Amare Stoudamire, Ray Allen, Tyson Chandler, Manu Ginobili, Richard Jefferson, Joe Johnson, Tracy McGrady, Yao Ming, Steve Nash, Dirk Nowitzki, and Michael Redd.

Wow.

This is Year 13 for AI, which hardly seems possible, does it? It seems like yesterday that Carmelo Travieso and Edgar Padilla were schooling Iverson and Victor Page in the 1996 NCAA Eastern Regionals down there in Atlanta. That was a glorious day for UMass, but we all knew Iverson was headed for NBA fame and glory, regardless of what took place in the Georgia Dome that Sunday afternoon.

But how will history treat Allen Iverson?

The barebones are that he is a Rookie of the Year (1996-97), a three-time first-team All-NBA player, a three-time scoring leader, a three-time steals leader, and an MVP (2000-01). He got to the NBA Finals once, in 2001 against the Lakers, and his 76ers were simply beaten by a better team. He is a two-time All-Star Game MVP (2001, 2005), with a high of 35.

Pretty good for 6 feet 1 inch (if that), huh?

Yes, it is. Allen Iverson is one of the most intriguing players in the history of the NBA. There have been little guys equally quick and there have been little guys (Nate Archibald, for example) who could match his ability to both score and pass. But the thing he will be remembered for is his sheer physical toughness.

The only players his size I know of who have ever approached Iverson's fearlessness and ability to play in pain were K.C. Jones and Norm Van Lier, and neither was anywhere near the total ballplayer Allen Iverson has been. Neither K.C. nor Stormin' could have led this league in scoring even if they had been allowed to count all their pregame layups.

All of us who love basketball have been thrilled by Allen Iverson's extraordinary tenacity and virtuosity. But the eternal issue with all extraordinary virtuosos in this game, whether they be 7-foot scoring-machine centers such as Wilt Chamberlain and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, midsize do-it-alls such as Michael Jordan (OK, specifically Michael Jordan), or small multiskilled guards such as Archibald, Isiah Thomas, or Allen Iverson, is how to blend that dominating talent with the other four people in order to best help a team win basketball games and, eventually, championships.

It is basketball's great conundrum. A man can indeed have too much talent.

In Iverson's case, the entire package includes a very specific personal background that has shaped him into a very rigid adult. He embraces a culture that very often irritates the basketball establishment. It permeates everything he does, from the way he dresses to the way he plays the game. And being 6-1 is a major problem. The 6-1 player who can affect basketball in the long run the way the great centers and the great midsize players such as Bird, Magic, and Michael did has not yet been born. As talented as Allen Iverson is, there is only so much a 6-1 guy can do.

I'm not sure Allen Iverson will ever be at peace with that concept.

The fact that he has not won a championship since high school is not his fault. It is a testament to the game of basketball. Pure point guards fitting a specific team need in a given point in time help teams win championships. This is what Oscar Robertson and Tiny Archibald did for the 1971 Bucks and 1981 Celtics, respectively. They were each very toned-down versions of their career-peak physical selves when they won their rings.

But Allen Iverson has yet to make that transition.

Could he? Theoretically, yes. If he did so, could he make Detroit a champion? I'm not sure the Pistons are that close, but for the sake of argument, let's say yes, again theoretically. Does he have any idea what I'm talking about? I doubt it.

I bet Joe Dumars doubts it, too. But he's going to enjoy Allen Iverson's expiring contract.

Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at ryan@globe.com.