Any time you wind up on the same side as Robert Sarver on a financial decision involving the Suns, you have to take a step back. Look at it from all sides. Make sure you’re on the same page.

Are you sure?

Going back to when Joe Johnson was only worth $70 million (as opposed to the $120 million the insane Atlanta Hawks appear poised to shove his way now, bringing his total take from that franchise to nearly $200 million) through the Kurt Thomas debacle, the Shaquille O’Neal charade and the Marcus Banks farce, it’s been hard to understand most of what the Suns owner – and now, interim GM and director of operations – is thinking.

But when it comes to giving Amar’e Stoudemire a max contract and tying the team’s fortunes to an exciting, talented but flawed basketball player, we are in lock-step.

Covering the Suns for five years and seeing Stoudemire on a daily basis, he never ceased to amaze me with his raw power, grace and willingness to work on his offensive game. He’s a great story, a person of great strength who has overcome a lot in his life to rise above and succeed. And his last four months as a Sun were his best – showcasing all he could be as a player if his energy was consistently channeled in the right direction.

But there is also microfracture Amar’e. Torn retina Amare. One rebound in 30 minutes Amar’e. Confused or disinterested Amar’e. Unable to switch on the pick-and-roll or box out Amar’e

One leg. One eye. One dimensional. To me, that’s not a max player.

Max players are the heart and soul of their team. The player that sets the example, carries the torch and demands others to follow – or get out of the way. Kobe Bryant. LeBron James. Dwyane Wade. Kevin Garnett.

Even in his own free agent class, Amar’e takes a back seat to James, Wade, Chris Bosh and even his own ex-teammate, Johnson. If there were any secret summits to discuss how the NBA landscape would be carved up and how forces would be joined to take down the Lakers, Amar’e wasn’t invited to the meeting.

The Suns will miss Stoudemire, there is no disputing that. He is as much a help to Steve Nash as Nash was to him when it came to spacing the floor and keeping defenses honest. When he moved to center in 2004-05, “Seven Seconds or Less” was born and the Suns had as much fun and success as any non-championship team in NBA history. He went to All-Star Games, changed his name, number, nickname and agents as often as his sneakers and grew an ego that even the outdoor stadium in Indian Wells had trouble accommodating.

But he’s not the kind of player who will be successful no matter the opposition’s tactics. He was often frustrated by defenses designed to take away easy baskets and force him to figure out another way. He was quick to mention in interviews when teams were trying to make sure he didn’t beat them, employing double-teams that rendered him unable to put up his numbers.

Same thing happens to Kobe, LeBron and D-Wade all the time. But they figure out another way to beat you. They get teammates involved. They take their defense to another level. They rebound, take the charge or get under an opponent’s skin. They don’t take technical fouls, they don’t allow themselves to be neutralized and they always have something left at the bottom of their bag of tricks.

That’s a superstar. That’s a max player. And as much as he sees himself as the equal to all, and that playing in Phoenix is the only thing holding him back from a run of jewelry and world-wide acclaim, that’s not Amar’e Stoudemire.

Hakim Warrick isn’t Amar’e Stoudemire. Not by a long shot. But he knows how to score off the pick and roll; He has a strong mid-range jumper. He is not allergic to defense and he’ll learn quickly how much better you can be with Steve Nash on the other end of those passes. There are a dozen guys around the league who have gotten rich thanks to Nash, and Channing Frye ($30 million for five years) joined that class Thursday.

Thanks for the memories, Amar’e. There are a lot of them. For those of us who suffered through the Penny Hardaway/Stephon Marbury era, we are eternally grateful for your part in extracting us from round ball purgatory.

Enjoy New York, or Chicago or Miami. Better start growing a thicker skin, because you won’t be able to mail in those December and January games without incurring the wrath of fans and media – in cities where those games are scrutinized like playoff games here. Those “don’t blame me” quotes won’t fly in the Big Apple or Windy City. You make the money in Miami – you get the Heat. Don’t rest on defense while Pat Riley is watching.

Someone thinks you’re a max player. It just wasn’t Robert Sarver. Or me.