By the time you read this, Allen Iverson may be a Celtic. He may also be a Warrior, a Clipper, a Timberwolf, a Nugget, a Pacer, or a King.

Regardless of where he’s headed, or when it happens, one thing is clear: He won’t be suiting up for the Sixers again. And in light of the fact that the franchise is about to jettison its best and most popular player and take back 50 cents on the dollar, it’s worth exploring the question that few people have asked yet: How in the heck does a team wind up in this situation?

In almost any situation, Iverson is somebody you want to keep. Although he’s 31, he’s not past his prime — in fact, last year was his best season according to my Player Efficiency Rating (PER, a per-minute rating of a player’s statistical effectiveness), and this year he isn’t far behind. He plays hard, plays hurt, and has incredible stamina. Yes, he can be difficult at times and has a cavalier attitude toward practice, but it’s not like he’s off committing atrocities in Darfur between games, and he does get you 30 a night.

So basically, you don’t trade somebody like this unless you absolutely have to. And if a team is decently managed, it should never find itself in such a position. Unfortunately, the comedy of personnel errors unleashed by the Sixers ever since they won the Eastern Conference championship in 2001 took them to the point of no return. They’re a horrible team even with Iverson, and the worst team in the league without him.

How did they get this bad? Let us recount the many missteps. Under the aegis of general manager Billy King, Philly has been the personification of the bad deal. Throw in a few free-agent oversights and one underrated stroke of bad luck, and the Sixers find themselves in the desperate straights they’re in today.

Philadelphia was extremely competitive for two years after its Finals run, making the playoffs despite an injuryravaged 2001–02 and then advancing to the second round with a strong finish in 2002–03 before Detroit knocked them out in five close games.

But even then, the cracks were starting to appear in the façade. Philly made a major error in the free-agent market in 2002, opting not to match Utah’s qualifying offer to forward Matt Harpring and instead sign guard Greg Buckner to a long-term deal. Harpring became instant offense in Utah and remains productive; Buckner has his uses as a role player but was vastly overcompensated; the Sixers ended up waiving him in September 2004.

The next summer, there were a few more errors. First, the Sixers traded Keith Van Horn to the Knicks in a fourway trade that brought in center Marc Jackson and forward Glenn Robinson. Van Horn, though overcompensated, continued to be a productive player for several more years. Robinson, however, made just as much money and was on his last legs. He played only 42 games as a Sixer before being offloaded to the Hornets for the injured Jamal Mashburn, whose only value was that his contract was paid by insurance.

Even worse was the four-year extension King bestowed on guard Eric Snow, a deal that won’t expire for nearly two more years. Snow was 30 at the time, and as an athletic guard with no shooting range he was a prime candidate to begin declining rapidly. And that’s exactly what he did right after inking the extension. He only lasted one more year in Philadelphia before the Sixers realized the mistake they made, and had to dump his salary in a trade for the talentless Kevin Ollie and draft bust Kedrick Brown.

This takes us to a common theme with bad teams — overvaluing their own players. In addition to the Derrick Coleman and Snow mistakes, King gave forward Kenny Thomas a ridiculous six-year,$48 million deal that same summer. Thomas at least proved to be a useful player, making this less egregious than some of the other errors.

In 2004, it was more of the same. Coleman’s expiring contract went to Detroit for Corliss Williamson, another player whom King should have expected to decline (a short forward dependent on quickness who had just turned 30) but didn’t, and the Sixers ended up eating two unproductive years on a fairly large contract.

I should point out that Philly also had one genuine stroke of bad luck. King made one brilliant trade amidst all the other duds, sending Dikembe Mutombo to the Nets for Van Horn and center Todd MacCulloch in the summer of 2003. This was a huge steal, getting two quality starters in return for a big man that was just about to show his age. Unfortunately, MacCulloch developed a rare nerve disorder in his foot shortly after joining the team and eventually had to retire.

What’s funny is that the Sixers had drafted fairly well throughout this period. Samuel Dalembert, Andre Iguodala, Kyle Korver, John Salmons, and Willie Green all came through the draft, and if Philly had any kind of base around them and Iverson they would have been a good team. But they didn’t.

So they had to take one more roll of the dice in the spring and summer of 2005. First, they traded Thomas, Williamson, and Brian Skinner to the Kings for Chris Webber, who had an indigestible contract but gave the Sixers one final glimmer of hope because of his star reputation. And that summer, King doled out huge contracts to serviceable but hardly spectacular players like Dalembert, Korver, and Green, hoping that this nucleus might somehow eke out a few playoff berths and remain reasonably competitive.

None of it worked. Thanks to one bad signing after another — all involving the Sixers’ own players, we should note — and a little bad luck, Philadelphia ended up with as bad a roster as any team in the league. Now it’s going to cost them their best player, and if there’s any justice in the world, it will cost the general manager his job as well.

In fact, that takes us to the other question nobody’s asking regarding the Iverson saga: Why are they letting the guy who so badly screwed up the franchise cut the deal?

jhollinger@nysun.com