Do you remember putting together a school project as a kid on a topic of your choice? You’d get a quarter, half-way, maybe even three-quarters through before realizing, “Crap, this isn’t coming together like I thought it would.”

Then came the toughest question: “Do I tinker with this and hope it turns into a semblance of what I need to pass, or scrap the whole thing and start over?”

The former is done reluctantly, because you already have a gut feeling it’s a lost cause anyway. The latter is unappealing because it admits you were wrong all along, and even coming clean doesn’t get back the time you lost figuring out your mistake. That’s where the Suns are right now.

They’ve been retooling for half a decade now. It’s been easy, because mitigating factors have come along every year, convincing them to give it another shot. Injuries, suspensions, trades, all the bumps in the road have let Phoenix tell itself, “Well, we haven’t really seen what we can do barring some freak occurrence, so let’s give it another go.”

First of all, there’s no avoiding freak occurrences, especially if you’re the Phoenix Suns. That kind of stuff (Duncan’s three, Artest’s game-winner, Horry’s hip-check) just happens to Planet Orange.

Second, the Suns have run out of excuses. Stoudemire was healthy this year. He played the best basketball of his life for two months before exposing himself in the playoffs as a productive guy who, for whatever reason, can’t turn in superstar performances at the same level or rate as the Kobes, LeBrons or Wades of the league. Steve Nash, for all his leadership skills, has an alarming tendency to make things more frantic when big games start falling apart (desperate pull-up threes, costly crunch-time turnovers). You’d expect him to calm things down, wouldn’t you? Doesn’t happen.

Of course, it’s not that easy to say “this just isn’t working.” In all fairness, Nash and Stoudemire have given a lot to Phoenix, more than anyone since Kevin Johnson. Sure they have shortcomings, but so do 98-percent of team leaders. Those teams, like the Suns, just fall short of championship status.

So here’s the question: does Phoenix take a good, hard look in the mirror, admit they’ve probably gone as far as they can with this core and start over? Or is it too hard, too much to ask to leave contention and relevancy behind? Do they avoid the probable doldrums of rebuilding and hope against hope the chips will finally fall their way?

They can hope Stoudemire will actually produce what a max contract would mandate. They can think after finally overcoming the Spurs, the same can happen against L.A. They can wonder if the seventh time’s a charm in the Nash Era.

I’m not saying it won’t be, either. Kobe and the Lakers could take a step back. The Suns’ bench guys (other than Amundson and Frye, who probably won’t be back) could get even better. Continuity could be the key that finally unlocks the door.

Or the Suns can say, “That’s it. We’ve given this group enough chances. Time to try our luck with a new deck.”

Make no mistake, luck plays a huge part in building a championship team. The Celtics lucked into owners desperate to get rid of pricey assets, from Garnett to Allen to Rondo (too pricey for Sarver, remember?). The Lakers lucked into getting Gasol for peanuts. The Spurs lucked out in the lottery after their one bad year during the David Robinson Era and got Tim Duncan. The Heat lucked into D-Wade in the ’03 lottery.

Phoenix isn’t in a position to create its own luck with this current roster, due both to bad contracts and worse draft positioning. That means either a complete and abrupt tear-down or a slow, painful decline. The former leaves Dragic and Lopez as the base of the rebuilding project, which is probably good for a couple high draft picks (assuming we keep them) in the coming years. Throw in a young stud or two from clean-house trades, some cap room, and that leaves a lot more room for growth and luck.

Is it a gamble? Absolutely. Banking on lottery luck and good trades is anything but a surefire thing.

Still, I can’t help but remember a line from The Matrix, when Neo is afraid of the harshness of the unknown. As he’s about to leave the car, Trinity asks him to stay. When Neo asks why, Trinity responds, “Because you have been down that road, Neo. You know exactly where it ends.”

I think the Suns know the road this group can take them on. They know exactly where it ends, and more importantly, where it doesn’t. A new road through rebuilding could absolutely leave them worse off than before. But wouldn’t a few ugly years be worth the slight chance of ultimately ending up on top?

Of course, why ask you if it’s worth it? Let’s ask the Celtics.