It’s Becoming a Series Dominated by the Allens

The respect is obvious and mutual.

Ray Allen, the debonair Milwaukee Buck guard with his quiet game of jump-shooting excellence and defensive audacity who wears his suits with a sharp crease and a silk shirt; and Allen Iverson, the charismatic Philadelphia 76er guard with his noisy, rambunctious game of wiggles and twitches interrupted by explosive moves and defensive chicanery, who wears long, baggy pants and covers his head after every game with a big bandanna, couldn’t be more different or more respectful of the other.

“What he has accomplished at his size and weight in this league is pretty amazing,” Allen says.

“People underestimate Ray too often and think he’s only about looking pretty and shooting the basketball. But Ray’s got the whole game, all the moves and you always have to watch out for him,” Iverson says.

As the Eastern Conference finals, tied at a game apiece, move to Game 3 at the Bradley Center today, the most enthralling individual matchup has become “The Allens,” Ray and Iverson. Most of the focus and attention has gone to Iverson. Allen has simply been out there. Shooting and scoring.

It is a battle that might not happen today.

Iverson, who has achieved incredible statistics this year while becoming the smallest most valuable player in NBA history and whose 6-foot, 160-pound body has become less and less resilient, more and more battered and bruised throughout the playoffs, said Friday that he might not play today.

And by not playing maybe Allen would really get noticed. But probably not. If Iverson doesn’t play, then whatever Allen does will have that nasty asterisk attached.

Even in Milwaukee, on the radio station that broadcasts the Bucks’ games, a talk show host kept referring to Ray Allen as “you know, the other Allen.” Allen Iverson is first-name famous. As in “Allen does this, Allen does that, Allen does everything.”

Yet here is Ray Allen, with his jump shot of unlimited range. Here is Ray Allen, a movie star who appeared in “He Got Game,” with a speaking part and everything. He is handsome, pleasant, well-spoken, was an Olympic gold-medal winner and he is an NBA all-star. He is averaging 34.5 points in the first two games against Philadelphia and has made 27 of 46 shots.

And all anybody wants to know about is Iverson.

When is Iverson going to open up and score 50 points? When is Iverson going to scorch “the other Allen”? Is Iverson going to play today? Should he play today? Isn’t Iverson brave? Isn’t he courageous to play on with his injured hip and tailbone?

“I don’t think I’m controversial enough for people to talk about me,” the other Allen said Friday. “You tend to put more negative things on the airwaves or in the newspapers or magazines. I’m more a guy who goes out and does my job and that’s fine. Allen Iverson deserves everything he’s gotten this year and I’m not surprised about the attention he gets.”

It has been this way for the Allens, Ray and Iverson, since college. They were drafted in the same year and had played against each other for two years in the Big East Conference--Allen for Connecticut and Iverson for Georgetown. Connecticut’s teams were better, as Allen will slip gently into the conversation.

“I think Allen [Iverson] would tell you the same thing,” Allen says. “Our team got the best of his team in college. But it was always fun and there was always respect.”

After Game 2 of this series, when Allen outscored Iverson, 38-16, and the Bucks won, 92-78, Allen seemed fresh and unwinded, hardly in need of a shower, as if his getting open for all those jump shots was easy, as if chasing Iverson, even if Iverson is slowed and hobbling, was not even worthy of sweating.

He took time to praise Iverson’s grit in playing hurt, saying that many NBA stars would not have been on the court with the same painful bruise that is limiting Iverson’s ability to make quick cuts or get any rise on his jump shot.

Most of the talk about the Eastern Conference teams, the ones that are to become nothing but leftovers for the Lakers, has been about Iverson. It has been whether Iverson deserved the MVP award. It has been about how Iverson has grown up, how he has bonded to Coach Larry Brown and how he is maybe the smallest man ever with the ability to take over an NBA game. Or to give one away. That’s how Iverson is feeling now, too hurt and bruised to help his team but also knowing that without him the 76ers are closer to the Wizards or Grizzlies than the Bucks.

And Allen, who has never scored fewer than 18 points in any of his 21 playoff games, keeps coming out, shooting the ball from anywhere, and then saying that it is up to him to set the tone for his jump-shooting teammates.

Some players who know they are the offensive fulcrum aren’t eager to also be the defensive hero. And the Bucks have been tabbed as all scoring, no stopping. But even in Game 1, when Iverson somehow limped and labored to score 34 points, Allen said he wanted the challenge.

“I love the competition,” Allen said. “I love the challenge. I love looking Allen in the eye. I love seeing him look back.”

Buck Coach George Karl gets annoyed, he says, at how his Allen is never mentioned as one of the emerging stars of the NBA. He says he’s a little tired of hearing about Iverson, Tracy McGrady, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Garnett, et al.

“Do you ‘want the flamboyance or flair?” Karl asks. “Or do you want results? The Ray you see is committed to results. Sometimes I think there is more emphasis on style in this league and less on substance. Ray is trying to move in the direction of being a player of substance and meaning, which usually means winning too.”

*

Diane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com.