The bandwagon is finally rolling again for the Sixers after three excruciating years, but there’s a pothole up ahead. It has a name: Ben Simmons.



That’s right. The biggest prize after losing 199 games, on purpose, over the past three seasons will be no prize at all. If indeed the Sixers fulfill the predictions of most NBA experts and select the LSU enigma with the first pick in the draft next month, all of our suffering will have been in vain.

Because Ben Simmons is not going to be the next Allen Iverson. In fact, he has a much better chance of becoming the next Shawn Bradley.

How can I – hardly an expert on college basketball – be so sure of this bold forecast? After 40 years in sports media, let’s just say I have learned that disasters have a distinct pattern. Ben Simmons fits the prototype of draft busts, a gifted athlete with overpowering character flaws – far too many character flaws.

For example, when he played on the Australian national basketball team, he acquired a nickname: The Yank. This was not a term of endearment. Aussies see Americans as selfish, obnoxious non-conformists. Simmons didn’t listen to coaches. Because he was so talented, he felt a sense of entitlement.

Then he got to LSU, and the imperfections became even easier to detect. Yes, he averaged 19 points a game and 12 rebounds, but he was known to pad his stats late in blowouts, he resisted instruction and he preferred not to take the biggest shots in games, even though he was the best player on a mediocre team.

By the way, he is also a poor outside shooter, has an aversion to defense and, at 19, has maturity issues reminiscent of two current Sixer head cases, Joel Embiid and Jahlil Okafor. If coach Brett Brown thinks a player drowning in Shirley Temples or racing 108 mph over the Ben Franklin Bridge is nuts, wait until he meets Ben Simmons.

Oh, wait. Brown has met Simmons because he coached his father in Australia many years ago. Brown has already offered nothing but platitudes for the kid whose family he knows so well. He even compared Simmons to Magic Johnson last week.

At 6-10, Simmons is tall enough, fast enough and smart enough. But is he committed enough? Will pockets filled with money make him more determined to succeed, or even less so?

Good luck with that one. Magic Johnson was more than just an exquisite collection of magnificent physical skills. He was a warrior. The bigger the game, the higher he rose. I don’t have to remind anyone of the time he destroyed the Sixers while playing center in Game 6 of the 1980 NBA Finals, do I?

Ben Simmons has exhibited none of those leadership qualities. I know what you’re thinking. Give the kid a break; he’s only 19. The problem is, there is no room for sympathy at the top of the draft. Remember, when the Sixers picked Bradley No. 2 in 1993, his 7-6 frame reminded people of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

Of course, we know the rest. He was softer than a kitten. In the end, he fell victim to an addiction to fast food and a distaste for working hard. He amounted to nothing.

Scouts can measure height, vertical leap and foot speed, but they have a much harder time with character. At 6-10, Simmons is tall enough, fast enough and smart enough. But is he committed enough? Will pockets filled with money make him more determined to succeed, or even less so?

The answers to those questions should be obvious by now. The Sixers waited three years to get the best young player in America. Ben Simmons is definitely not that player.

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Sam Bradford had a chance to cut his losses last week, to use his fan-unfriendly holdout as the springboard to a new relationship with Eagles enthusiasts.

Instead, he made a bad situation worse. He blamed his agent.

Over the course of his disappointing seven-year career in the NFL, Bradford has learned very little about the psychology of fans, especially those in Philadelphia. Somehow, in a blue-collar sports city like ours, he thought it was a good idea to point the finger at super-agent Tom Condon for his two-week absence from the team.

“Obviously, my agent felt at the time of the (Carson Wentz) trade ... (the holdout) was the best option,” the quarterback said. “Then, after those two weeks, we realized this was the best place for me.”

Note the way Bradford phrased that answer. The boycott was Condon’s idea, and then “we” – namely, he – decided to come back. That comment alone puts Bradford in the running for biggest weasel in recent Eagles history, among many other missteps.

Consider the facts: He took $22 million in guaranteed money in March for a two-year contract, then threw a tantrum because the Eagles hedged their bet with Wentz, then walked out on the team, then refused to discuss his actions publicly for a full week after he returned, and then blamed his agent.

If Sam Bradford makes it to the home opener at Lincoln Financial Field – with his injury history, you can never be sure – he can expect a loud, brutal response to his gutless actions.