Larry Brown can come with his tough talk now, spit out his empty threats and tired ultimatums. His act has worn thinner than Iverson Unplugged. The 76ers emperor can pound the pulpit with his speeches on the "right way," deflecting the reasons for a failed season from the truth about the pedestrian talent surrounding his superstar. He can live with Allen Iverson's pitiful practice habits when they're winning, but suddenly the Sixers lost and the burden belongs on the bony guard's practice habits.

Once, it was shame on Iverson for refusing to play the part of a pro. Now, it's shame on Brown for turning the Sixers into this circus that makes Bobby Clarke and Eric Lindros and Larry Bowa and Scott Rolen blush. If Iverson's truancy was a real issue, Brown should have stopped it years ago. But he let it linger. He let it go on and on. They were winning. The right way would be sitting and suspending Iverson, costing him cash and games, assigning legitimate consequences to his behavior.

All Brown wanted with Philadelphia was complete control of basketball operations, so here is his duty: Control it. So far, this war of words is about Brown flexing his muscles, about turning public sentiment against Iverson, trying to turn The Answer into the Sixers' true problem. Go down the rest of that lineup and tell me what makes the 76ers a legitimate Eastern Conference contender.

So Wednesday, Brown has scheduled one of his "right way" lectures in Philadelphia, all to answer The Answer. So tell us, Coach Brown, what is the right way? Running out on the Nets for a college job with five games left before the playoffs? The right way must be hiring Ed Manning, a truck driver, to get his son, Danny, the best high school player in the country for the Jayhawks. It must be leaving Kansas on probation to jump to the Spurs. It must be getting yourself thrown out of a game so an assistant, John Calipari, could take over and exact some petty revenge on the Nets, his past employer.

The right way? It had to be chasing an official off the court at the Sydney Olympics, an act that would've turned into an international incident had Iverson, wearing red, white and blue, done it.

	If Brown is going to make his move, then make it. If Brown thinks he can make a trade that will win more games, sell more tickets, find it.

So, seriously, Brown can save his latest lecture. He can stop the grandstanding. If Brown is going to make his move, then make it. If Brown thinks he can make a trade that will win more games, sell more tickets, find it. Do you think Brown would be moaning over Iverson's practice habits had he done his job and drafted Kansas' Paul Pierce over enigmatic St. Louis freshman Larry Hughes? No, they would be winning, and Brown would be taking his bows, professing his faith to Dean Smith's system and the Carolina way.

Well, the way the Sixers play ball couldn't be further from the great Dean Smith's vision, and the way he's handled Iverson couldn't be further from the Carolina way.

Of course, Iverson isn't the innocent one here. He hasn't grown up, but clearly, his employers have done little to make him. For too long, they enabled him at every turn. If Iverson believes he can turn into a championship star without changing his work habits, he's wrong. Still, Brown is the ultimate Me coach, for this Me generation of players. He's one of the magnificent minds of his time, a deserving Hall of Fame candidate, but Brown has completely failed with Iverson. He has let him slide and slide and slide. He has let this soap opera rage on and on.

Who is Brown kidding, anyway? He isn't trading Iverson. Maybe he came close in 1999, but times have changed. The East is still there for the Sixers to take next year. Why would owner Ed Snider allow it, when Brown himself is forever liable to leave on a moment's notice? If you want to pick the coach over the player in Philadelphia, understand: Sooner than later, they'd both be gone. This happened with the Flyers and Eric Lindros; it's happening with the Phillies and Rolen; and there's just no way it can turn out this way with Iverson, too. Iverson entertains. He sells tickets. He wins game. He's Philly's biggest basketball star since Dr. J, bigger than Moses, bigger than Barkley, the bony kid turned bigger than life.

So, no more of Brown's empty threats and tired ultimatums. It's too late. The 76ers emperor lost this fight long ago, when he insisted on complete control of this franchise and never bothered to exert it.

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