Stephen A. Smith | C-Webb was classy, but also washed up

While we contemplate the career of Chris Webber, in awe of some of the basketball attributes he has possessed throughout the years, it is easy to surmise that some people will feel it was nice while it lasted.

The rest of us will be more sensible than that.

Long after the residue of Webber's time in Philadelphia has left our memories, after the headaches have passed, long after the questions as to why he was here have dissipated, this much will be evident:

Chris Webber is a nice, intelligent young man.

He's an old basketball player, who looks older every day.

His legs are shot.

So is his post game.

And the lack of a championship on his resume proves exactly that.

Webber and the 76ers agreed to a buyout last night, and if you're wondering how people feel about this, just stop and listen to all the noise from the championship parades he was a part of.

The silence is deafening. There's not even an uproar in C-Webb's own household.

Just like the Sixers knew it was time for him to go, Webber knew it, too. Webber knew it before Allen Iverson was traded. He knew it the moment it was clear that the Sixers were not going to contend even with him and Iverson. He knew it mainly because the ever-shooting Iverson was not Webber's kind of teammate, and because the rest of his teammates were simply ill-equipped for the kind of playoff run that Webber was accustomed to in Sacramento.

"I'm all about winning," Webber said months ago, before the Sixers reportedly saved about $5 million on the final $20.7 million (this season) and $22.3 million (next season) remaining on his contract. "I've competed and been about winning everywhere I've gone. And I'll always be about winning until I walk away from this game."

This is the cold, harsh truth: Despite Webber's ability to put up 20 points and 10 rebounds on any given night, there isn't a single legitimate contender who has looked in his direction.

Every NBA executive is fully aware of the regular-season career averages of 21.4 points and 10.0 rebounds that Webber took into this season. They know that if they have shooters, there are not too many players better equipped to be a facilitator than the 6-foot-10 former Fab Five member.

Those same executives have also tired of watching the 33-year-old Webber shoot elbow jump shots, barely ever seeing him dunk and almost never seeing him sprint up the floor. And always, he seems to be lagging behind some athlete with young, healthy legs.

Sixers president Billy King once talked about changing the culture of this franchise, but if we really want to be honest about it, he was talking about exactly the kind of change he made yesterday. In Webber, he didn't just move another body, he moved age, attrition and all the tension that comes with it.

"Chris has been as professional as he can be around the players, helping the young guys, trying to teach them certain things," Sixers coach Maurice Cheeks said Tuesday.

Don't worry about Cheeks. I'll add the rest.

"C-Webb has been the consummate professional. He's been class personified. He's helped motivate this team, doing whatever we've asked him to do. The Sixers appreciate all he's done for us."

It means nothing, and the reasons are simple: If you can say the same things about a mercurial superstar guard who averaged 31.2 points per game - while banning him from the team and removing his name from a locker stall - what on earth are you going to say about Webber?

The rhetoric is old and meaningless. It is gratuitous praise with the single goal of keeping the peace and not burning any bridges. It's just the kind of thing that helps an organization attract future stars without the worry of alienation, which helps more during free agency than at any other time.

But with C-Webb, it's never about whether you like the guy or not, because he's very likable. It's sincerely genuine to say he's classy and intelligent, with a bright future ahead of him once his basketball days are over.

The problem is, they're not over yet. They're just over in Philadelphia. And the reality that this is a good thing tells you all you need to know.

Iverson would still be here if Webber were still a star because that version of Webber would have been a complement instead of a liability.

It's not Webber's fault that his legs aren't what they used to be. Because of that, neither is his game.

But he won't accept that.

Denial is always a clear-cut indication that the time for change has arrived.