Annette John-Hall: No question - Iverson's return is welcome

Rejoice! Rejoice! Just in time for the holidays comes the return of Allen Iverson.

Wake me up. No, seriously - wake me up, then pinch me.

Our call has been Answered. Finally.

Let's face it. Ever since A.I. was unceremoniously booted from the nest after a decade of hogging the ball - and headlines - in Philly, it's been plain old sleepy around these parts.

In fact, ho-hum as all heck.

Just one big, celebrity-less slumber.

We're a city of reenactments, of bicentennials, tricentennials, even sesquicentennials. But you can get your history on only for so long. What does it say about a place when it's celebrated more for what it was than for what it is? And when Ben Franklin and Betsy Ross are the only names you can think to drop, well . . .

You'd be hard-pressed to name a legitimate celebrity-sighting since Reese Witherspoon was spotted eating an egg-white scramble at the Down Home Diner recently.

Oh, and we got all lathered up when we heard Jon & Kate Plus 8-ex Jon Gosselin was a guest at Shane Victorino's wedding - even though the nuptials were in Hawaii.

You know we're hurting when Stephen Starr's wedding is the city's big buzz.

I mean, Starr's restaurants may be four-star, but he's barely a sparkle in an A-list constellation.

Let's not even talk about local sports celebs. Sure, J-Roll, Howard, and Utley got our juices going during the World Series, but they can't top the marquee value of the Answer. And the rest of our jocks? About as boring as Michael Vick under center.

Poor Vick. He went from electrifying to electrocuting to pathetically eligible, and now, as an Eagles novelty act, he's a shadow of his former self.

"Can't nobody do what I do," Vick rightly boasted back when he was young and ethereal and totally unpredictable for the Atlanta Falcons.

Now that he's landed in Philly, the Michael Vick Experience has been reduced to the Wildcat, a pussycat formation that, as far as I can tell, lines him up crookedly and has him handing off to a back for negative yardage.

With him all ultra-community-serviced-up, it's as if the Eagles gave him a boredom shot. (Can't anyone put that on the banned-substance list?)

Please, Sixers. I'm begging you. Don't anesthetize A.I.

All I want for Christmas is an Iverson on full blast.

Untamed, uncut, and un-airbrushed. Complete with tats, 'rows, and 'tude.

See, when it comes to A.I., there's no in-between. You either fall on the side of disparagement (Artificially Intelligent) or accolade (Astoundingly Inventive).

But whichever, he was Always Interesting.

Only, please. Spare me the off-the-court drama.

I love my reality TV, but I didn't miss the foolishness of the future Hall of Famer trolling the streets at 3 in the morning with a loaded gun under his car seat, looking for his runaway wife, the one he threw out of the house. Naked.

I want to see A.I. repeat the Tyronn Lue step-over and hit the baseline jumper the way he did in the 2001 NBA Finals.

I want to see a Sixer who has no fear. Because right now, there isn't one.

There's a reason the Sixers have the second-lowest attendance in the league and the Wachovia Center is empty of excitement. Been down there lately? Quiet as a tomb.

And we're not even talking about practice.

Sure, Iverson may have lost a step. Sure, he's had some rough stints elsewhere. But Philly needs his bravado and ball-hog mentality more than ever now.

On Monday, when he takes the court against the Denver Nuggets, I want him to take that mike before a sellout crowd, cup his hand to his ear, and show us his Philly swagger.

Just ESPN highlights. No scandalous headlines.

Besides, Tiger's already got that market covered.