GIVE Phil Jackson this much – at least when he rats out his team in this printing, he doesn’t do it anonymously.

When Sam Smith wrote The Jordan Rules, chronicling the Bulls’ first championship season, it was unanimously understood that their head coach was the author’s MVP(lant).

At least Jackson identifies himself when he rats out the Lakers in this looming book.

At least in this “tell all” tome (The Last Season: A Team in Search of Its Soul) he’s his own locker room leak.

At least when he submarines his superiors (not intellectually, of course) and sabotages his stars (expressly Kobe Bryant, everyone’s pet pinata these dark days) Jackson breaks a cornucopia of confidences under his byline.

Has there ever been a coach of Jackson’s reputation (or ill repute, for that matter) this closely (or distantly) removed from the job who so casually stepped out of the confessional and divulged such a variety of intimacies?

No, there’s no such thing as privileged info in Jackson’s book … or soul. Honoring covert conversations and burying team tribulations is not compatible with his philosophy. Keeping secrets applies to peons, certainly not to someone of such piety, someone who’s attained such prominence.

But at least, finally, Jackson openly drops dimes on former allies.

At least his assault is full-frontal, a welcomed change of position after years of churning out dirt to the media while hiding in the cracks and crevices of two championship organizations.

Give Jackson this much – he voluntarily exposes himself as his own Howie Spira.

Making out like a bandit in the process. Think of all the loot Jackson saved by doing his own dirty work instead of having to hire informants to dig it up.

Which brings us to the segment of this space where we pose questions that answer themselves. Let’s run some down the tidy bowl and see if they float:

First thing that comes to mind is, would Jackson have betrayed team trust by telling these sordid stories had the Lakers not been run out of the Finals by the Pistons?

Would Jackson have co-authored a book had he captured his 10th title and held the NBA record by his lonesome, one ahead of reviled Red Auerbach? … figured out how to get Kobe more shots against Larry Brown’s suffocating defense? … remained unbeaten (10-0) in Finals competition, thus not needed to underscore scapegoats to disguise his flagrant lack of adjustment throughout the series?

Would Jackson have chanced ruining relationships with just about everyone in Lakerland who matters, it seems, exempting Jeannie Buss and Shaq (“He won’t have that much bad to say about me in the book,” he said, “but if he does have something bad to say about me, I’ll be a man and own up to it.”) had Jerry Buss wanted Phil back on his terms, his price?

Would Jackson have violated sacred ground by putting team business on the bookshelves had he won his power struggle and Kobe was sent packing vs. being maxed out and appointed GM?

Imagine how outraged Jackson would be today had Kobe, Mitch Kupchak, Jerry West, Glen Rice’s wife, or his ex-wife June penned an expose about what he’s said and done behind closed doors?

One writes a book like this for one of two purposes, I submit, cathartic or capitalistic. Jackson is wedged far into the second category, since he has no soul to cleanse, having already sold it.

The good news is, getting the book out by opening day ensures Michael Moore of getting the documentary out by the All-Star break.