June 6, 2001. Staples Center. The air in Los Angeles felt heavy, almost suffocating. The Lakers hadn’t lost a game in over two months. They were 11-0 in the playoffs. Honestly, most people thought the Philadelphia 76ers were just showing up to be sacrificial lambs.
Then Allen Iverson happened.
The "Answer" didn't just play a game; he conducted a masterpiece. He dropped 48 points, but history doesn't really care about the box score. History cares about a single, disrespectful, legendary sequence in the corner of the court. When we talk about Allen Iverson stepping over Ty Lue, we aren't just talking about a basketball play. We’re talking about a culture clash that defined an entire era of the NBA.
The Night the Giants Bled
Look, the 2001 Lakers were terrifying. Shaquille O’Neal was in his absolute physical prime, basically a 7-foot-1 wrecking ball that no one could stop. Kobe Bryant was blossoming into a superstar. They were 15-0 in their last 15 games including the regular season finish.
The Sixers? They were a collection of "misfits" led by a 6-foot, 165-pound guard with cornrows and a sleeve full of tattoos. Iverson was the league MVP, sure, but he looked like a middle schooler standing next to Shaq.
Iverson came out swinging, scoring 30 points in the first half alone. He was making Kobe and Derek Fisher look like they were wearing lead boots. Phil Jackson, ever the strategist, reached deep into his bench. He pulled out Tyronn Lue.
Why Ty Lue?
It’s kinda funny now, but Lue was on the roster specifically for this. During practices leading up to the Finals, Lue played the role of Iverson on the scout team. He was quick, pesky, and—most importantly—he wore his hair in braids to match AI’s look.
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And for a while, it worked.
Lue hounded Iverson. He grabbed him. He shadowed his every move. Iverson actually went cold for a long stretch in the second half, scoring only three points in a massive chunk of time. The Lakers clawed back. The game went to overtime. That’s where the magic happened.
The Anatomy of the Step Over
With about a minute left in overtime, the Sixers were up by two. Iverson caught the ball in the right corner. Lue was draped all over him. Literally. If you watch the tape, Lue is hand-checking, bumping, and not giving an inch.
AI catches, jabs, and drives baseline. He stops on a dime.
He pulls back with a between-the-legs crossover that was so sharp it probably should’ve been illegal. Lue, trying desperately to contest the shot, loses his balance. Iverson rises for a fadeaway jumper. Swish.
Lue stumbles and falls right at Iverson's feet.
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Instead of walking around him, Iverson stares down at the fallen Laker and takes a deliberate, exaggerated, high-arched step right over him. He didn't look back. He didn't say a word. He just marched toward the other end of the court.
It Wasn't a Crossover Fall
Here’s what most people get wrong: Iverson didn't actually "break" Lue's ankles with the move. Lue stayed with the shot and contested it well. He only fell because as he was backpedaling to recover, he stepped on Iverson’s foot and tripped.
"People think he crossed me over, I fell down, and then he stepped," Lue told JJ Redick years later. "I contested the shot, I’m walking backwards, I step on his foot and I fall."
Does that matter? Not really. In the moment, it looked like Iverson had deleted Lue’s equilibrium. The visual of the "lil' guy" standing over the defender of the "mighty Lakers" was too powerful to be ruined by pesky facts like a foot-trip.
Why This Moment Changed Everything
In 2001, the NBA was still trying to figure out its post-Jordan identity. The league office was, let’s be real, a bit terrified of the hip-hop influence Iverson brought. They hated the baggy clothes. They hated the headbands. They even tried to airbrush his tattoos out of magazine covers.
When Allen Iverson stepping over Ty Lue happened, it was a middle finger to that entire corporate structure.
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It was "street" ball invading the most prestigious stage in the world. It was raw. It was arrogant. It was exactly what Philly fans loved and what Lakers fans loathed.
- The Underdog Factor: The Sixers won that game 107-101. It was the only game the Lakers lost in the entire 2001 playoffs.
- The Cultural Weight: AI proved you could be yourself—unapologetically—and still be the best player on the floor.
- The Career Impact: Lue actually credits that moment for keeping him in the league. He said because he played Iverson so well until that shot, other teams realized he was a legitimate defender. He went on to have a long playing career and a championship-winning coaching career.
The Long-Term Fallout
Philadelphia eventually lost the series 4-1. Shaq was just too big, and the Sixers were too banged up. But nobody remembers the Lakers hoisting the trophy as vividly as they remember that step.
Honestly, it’s one of the few times in sports history where the loser of the series walked away with the most iconic highlight. It cemented Iverson as a folk hero. It’s the reason why, in 2026, kids who weren't even born in 2001 still wear Iverson jerseys and try to mimic that crossover.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Athletes
If you’re looking to take something away from this legendary moment beyond just a cool YouTube clip, consider these points:
- Preparation is Invisible: Ty Lue was only in that position because he spent weeks mimicking Iverson in practice. His "failure" was a result of being the only person capable of even being in the frame. Hard work puts you in the position to be part of history, even if you’re on the wrong side of the highlight.
- Moments Trump Stats: Iverson's 48 points were incredible, but the step-over is what lives forever. In life and business, the "story" or the "statement" often carries more weight than the raw data.
- Respect the Rivalry: Iverson and Lue are actually good friends now. Iverson has repeatedly told people to stop teasing Lue about it, saying he doesn't like the "slander" against his friend. Real greatness respects the person who pushed them to that level.
The step-over wasn't just a move. It was a mood. It was the peak of Iverson's "Answer" persona—a reminder that no matter how much you try to box someone in, talent and heart will always find a way to step over the obstacles.