DENVER — There is an irony to the grumbling, of course, and Mike Woodson understands it better than anyone. If it’s too simplistic to say that changing coaches can automatically change a team’s fortunes … well, we’ve seen different in our town.
We’ve seen the Nets get a convention-style bounce just before the New Year when Avery Johnson’s high-pitched voice was replaced by P.J. Carlesimo’s chalkboard rasp, when suddenly the Nets stopped slipping on banana peels.
And, of course, we saw the Knicks last year.
We saw Woodson inherit an 18-24 mess of dysfunction exactly one year ago tomorrow. And we saw the Knicks revamp themselves, almost immediately: a 42-point blowout win over Portland in the first game of the Woodson Era, an 18-6 finish, an 18-5 start to this season, a 55-27 record across his first 82 games.
Hard to argue with that kind of evidence.
Except now, Woodson is the defendant in whatever case antsy Knicks fans want to present before the court of public opinion. There is nothing to indicate Woodson is coaching for his job, other than the logical conclusion the kind of performance his team turned in Monday night in the first game of this five-game Western swing is the kind of evidence that, if it bleeds too long, turns a coach from secure to sketchy in record time.
And Woodson knows it.
More important, he acknowledges it. He realizes better than anyone the foundational frustration of anyone who cares about the Knicks: They are a different team now than they were when they started the season 18-5. Much different. Noticeably different. Troublingly different.
“We are a different team,” Woodson said yesterday, after opting — rather wisely, you would agree — to add a practice to the Knicks’ itinerary in the wake of that no-show bludgeoning in Oakland. “We’re playing a little differently. Both ends of the floor.”
He grimaced.
“And that,” he said, “is on me.”
It is. Woodson is the same coach now as he was this time last year, with one notable exception: He has a track record now. This time last year, in the dying hours of the D’Antoni Administration, he had the most important commodity necessary when a team makes a switch mid-stream: a different voice, a different outlook, a different perspective. It was perfect as a short-term salve.
But this is Woodson’s job permanently now — or as permanent as professional coaching allows, anyway — and so there won’t be any kind of shock to the Knicks’ system, no tectonic shift away from what they’re used to, not unless he wants to alienate them forever.
So how do you change results without changing systems?
“I’ve got to push these guys on offense, demand more spacing, make a few more extra passes, especially when the shots aren’t falling, like the other night,” Woodson said. “And defensively, we have to go back to being a nasty team.”
If nothing else, it has to satisfy the denizens of discontent that Woodson sees the same issues they see, the laments they bring with them to the saloon and the water cooler, to talk radio and email inboxes. Often, the easy target is Carmelo Anthony, of course, who will likely play tonight in his return to Denver — expect the kind of reception Mayor Bloomberg might get at a fast-food joint — and who is often blamed for everything that goes wrong with the offense on his watch.
But the truth is, none of the Knicks are playing as they did in November and December, when they had fans hearkening to the old hit-the-open-man Knicks, when they whipped the ball around and were making 3s and providing hellacious matchup troubles. And the defense isn’t anywhere close to that, either.
Kenyon Martin has helped, and if it sounds a bit troublesome to think that a guy still playing on a 10-day contract can have a deep impact … well, it is. Still, Martin has instantly provided toughness, and commitment on defense, and when he’s on the floor it’s a contagious bug.
“That’s why he’s here,” Woodson said.
Woodson himself is here because he proved last year that he could reach this eclectic group, because as shaky as the Knicks have been, they are 27 games over .500 under his stewardship. He didn’t suddenly forget how to coach. He just needs to do it better, and soon, before the season gets away from him. And who knows what else.
michael.vaccaro@nypost.com