The fix is in, if you believe what the Milwaukee Bucks are implying but not saying. The NBA is conspiring, through the negligence or ignorance of its officials, to put Allen Iverson in the NBA Finals.

How rich is that? The corporate NBA, with its starched-shirt culture, wants Iverson in the Finals because he's not only the MVP but the most marketable guy left to take on Shaq and Kobe.

It took a while, but the NBA has undergone a fundamental shift. David Stern and the boys in the monogrammed cuffs have finally come to understand what people in NBA cities have known for quite some time: Iverson sells. He sells in a way that Ray Allen, for all his talent and charisma, never will. He sells in a way that Tim Duncan could never dream.

The Bucks -- mostly Allen -- say they have circumstantial evidence that Stern is sitting in the stands rooting for the Sixers. He might not be going all Spike Lee on Sam Cassell, but the Bucks believe Stern and his men want the biggest buck, and that means Iverson.

Since it's going to be a Final Four, it might as well be four games with Iverson. And the next thing you know, the league will be selling Iverson's CD -- scheduled to come out next week -- on the official website. Next to the link to Dennis Rodman's webcam, of course.

This Week's List

Next week on "Pain or Injury?": Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas on the joys of amputation.

They're resting at home, but everyone knows they'd rather be running around breaking their ankles and marveling at the creases in George Karl's forehead: There are people -- people with a lot of time on their hands -- who wonder whether 10 days off will hurt the Lakers.

And that third person ... forget it, you really don't want to know: Thursday's USA Today included the following essential piece of news -- "When their cereal is gone, two out of three adults drink the remaining milk in the bowl."

One guy who looks to be starting a Bonds-like tear: Jason Giambi.

Somehow, just knowing they're friends means the world makes a little more sense: Hunter S. Thompson and Warren Zevon.

Forget Clemens vs. Piazza -- this was the matchup since William VanLandingham vs. Todd Hollandsworth: On Tuesday night in Anaheim, it was Mark Lukasiewicz pitching to Doug Mientkiewicz.

Memo to GMs: The White Sox have moved the David Wells Auction from Sotheby's to that weekend flea market in the old drive-in.

And when he couldn't figure out a way to turn the conversation into an insult of Dikembe Mutombo, he stormed out of the room: George Karl was furious that someone might believe two flagrant fouls and a technical signified a loss of his team's composure.

Of all the dumb luck: How was Matt (I Swear it Hurts) Geiger supposed to know his teammates were going to show him up by playing with broken ankles and broken fingers?

Making fun of the guy seemed to be the way to go, until it was revealed that he was trying to open one of those hideous DVD packages: Padres pitcher Adam Eaton will miss a start because he drove a pocket knife almost an inch into his stomach.

After all, studies have shown that T-shirts are the gateway item, usually leading to harder and more dangerous pieces of clothing: The Red Sox sued two brothers who were selling Green Monster T-shirts outside the stadium.

Yet another chance to use the word "debunk": Turns out Manny Ramirez's bloated productivity was not contingent on Kenny Lofton, Omar Vizquel and Roberto Alomar.

And his pitchers allowed an average of one run per 10 innings and lost both games: Benito Santiago, 36, caught 30 innings over two days.

There was no possible way he could come out of this looking good, so he didn't: PGA Commissioner Tim Finchem, expressing his displeasure with the Casey Martin decision.

You want reality programming, you go to the original: On a recent World's Strongest Man episode, this one dude lifted the back of a BMW and held it until blood started coming out his nose.

Three things the Lakers are doing while they await their opponent: 1) planning their vacations for the day after Game 4; 2) getting quotes on replacement costs for police cars; 3) laughing.

And finally, the Mets' problems can be traced to one terrible decision: Putting that ludicrous C on John Franco's jersey.

Tim Keown is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail tim.keown@espnmag.com.