SAN ANTONIO – The office windows were painted with hopeful messages, and the civil servants were already prepared for the longest night this city has seen since all that nastiness at the Alamo a few years ago. How crazed are the locals for a championship?

Saturday, there were some 3,000 people who greeted the Spurs upon their return to San Antonio, so many that Spurs coach Gregg Popovich felt compelled to say a few words.

All of that for a 3-2 lead in the NBA Finals.

“What in the world will the people do if and when they actually win the series?” Ralph Reyes, a taxi driver, asked in the morning, as he covered Houston Street between downtown San Antonio and the SBC Center. “You won’t be able to move downtown if that happens. Four years ago, when they won the title the first time, it was crazy here, but the game was played out of town [in New York]. It’s hard to fathom what it will be like this time around.”

These were the sights and the sounds that greeted the Nets on their return visit to San Antonio. These were the messages they received as they readied for what could have been their final game of the season, Game 6 of these Finals, against a Spurs team that looked and sounded an awful lot like champions-in-waiting as they wrapped up their New Jersey business on Friday.

Through it all, it was hard not to detect the undercurrent of melancholy that had subtly seeped into their voices, and into their hearts. Of all the hard journeys the Nets have taken together during this two-year odyssey, the 1,300 miles that covered the distance from North Jersey to South Texas may have been the longest.

They knew what was in their grasp.

They knew what had slipped through their fingers.

And they knew what the likely consequences were.

“I was ticked off Friday night and I was ticked off when I woke up [Saturday] morning,” said Kenyon Martin, his head freshly shaved and his attitude freshly adjusted. “But I’ve gotten it out of my mind now. I just have to play better, and I will.”

Jason Kidd reported that the bus and plane were “lively and loose,” that there didn’t seem to be much of a terrible aftertaste from losing two games in three Meadowlands tries over the previous week. Byron Scott even reported there was some laughter on the team charter. But team president Rod Thorn, who’s seen an awful lot of teams, lived through an awful lot of seasons, sensed something else.

“On the one hand, there’s a level of satisfaction in knowing that we could have won every game in this series so far except for Game 1,” Thorn said. “Of course, you also know that they probably could have won the two games we won, too. There’s a lot of things that can work on your mind if you let it. But there’s no escaping what we’re all up against. I mean, everywhere you turn, there’s a reminder that this city is ready to explode.”

And a reminder of all that may have been lost back at home.

“That’s the hardest part,” Martin said. “We had a great opportunity to make a huge statement, put all the pressure on them, win a couple of games in our house and make them have to take the trophy away from us. Now we have to take the trophy away from them. It’s all on us. If we want to keep playing, we have to make that happen, the way we didn’t do it back in New Jersey. Or else they’ll be celebrating here . . . ”

In truth, that part of the equation had already begun. The local newspaper carried several advertisements yesterday morning for “watch parties” and “victory parties” at various sports bars, and it was believed that scalpers were going to command upwards of $2,500 for a choice seat to witness the Spurs’ imminent coronation. And the Nets’ imminent demise. There were no guarantees printed on the tickets. There were in the eyes of the locals.

“You don’t see days like this much in these parts,” Ralph Reyes said. “Welcome to the belly of the beast.”