FIRST place schedule? Get real. Against teams that made the playoffs, the Giants played only four games, five if Seattle gets in.

Opponents getting juiced to play a Super Bowl team? C’mon. Almost everybody in the NFL was more surprised by the Giants’ late run in 2000 than they were to see them become the fourth conference champion since 1991 to fail to make the playoffs the following season. This is not a team that takes cheap shots or calls excessive attention upon itself.

The Eagles certainly had an ax to grind, but sure weren’t playing like any team on a mission on Oct. 22, when they hit one late play that changed the Giant season. If, according to popular theory, that one catch sucked six weeks worth of swagger from the Giants, their confidence had to be fragile to begin with, never mind what they seemed to have built with five season-closing victories, plus two playoff wins, last season.

“I know one thing for a fact in this league,” said Jim Fassel yesterday. “There is no natural progression. Every year is a new year. If you think, ‘we did this last year so we’ll get better,’ it just doesn’t happen.”

Indeed, if you aren’t getting better, the no-margin NFL will make you worse, for reasons beyond the worst teams getting the best picks and easiest schedules. Except for select powerhouses, all of whom are doomed to decline more quickly as the cap refuses to allow them to pay their depth and keep their stars, the difference between playoff makes and misses is almost always difference in turnover differentials.

For a team to continue to succeed through the inevitable eveners like bad bounces and injuries, some players must raise their levels. And, unlike a year ago, when newcomers Micheal Barrow, Lomas Brown, Glenn Parker, Dusty Ziegler and Cornelius Griffin had obvious impacts, the Giants haven’t gotten a true blast of fresh air from anyone.

Who got better? On defense, not Griffin, off a promising rookie season. Not Shaun Williams, who was presumed to be heading into his prime time. Not Sam Garnes, who remains as good as he is going to get, or Jason Sehorn or Jessie Armstead, who weren’t always healthy, or Keith Hamilton, who became premier run stopper a year ago, but lost too much time and strength this year.

And on offense? Not Amani Toomer or Ike Hilliard, who will finish with about the same numbers as a year ago. Certainly not Lomas Brown and Glenn Parker, not at their age. Not Ron Dayne, even if he finally did something on Sunday, or tight ends that again added virtually nothing to the attack.

Michael Strahan, who couldn’t have played much better that he did a year ago, had another big year, as did Barrow. Joe Jurevicius will almost double his number of catches; Tiki Barber came on late, maybe too late; and one would assume Kerry Collins grew in his teammates’ eyes by saving two games with final-minute touchdown drives. But the overall body of the 28-year-old quarterback’s work was not improved.

It’s not as if Ernie Accorsi stood pat. The GM replaced the pedestrian Cedric Jones with what turned out to be an exceedingly average Kenny Holmes, successfully moved a more athletic Brandon Short into Ryan Phillips’ linebacking spot and made the secondary faster with top picks Will Allen and William Peterson, who expectedly played like rookies.

While the cap situation prohibits a major overhaul, the Giants are asking to struggle some more if they don’t ask not only whether the graybeards on the offensive line have seen better days, but whether perhaps Armstead has, too.

If there is somebody out there who can make them better on either side of the ball, it shouldn’t be an agonizing decision to clear cap room and space for growth. Counting on guys to bounce back works only so far.