It gets harder and harder to take his little trip to San Antonio seriously, but nevertheless, New Jersey Nets president Rod Thorn waits for Jason Kidd's agent to tell him when everyone will sit down, meet and eventually agree on his $100 million contract. There will be no sign-and-trade deal with Dallas. None with Sacramento. All the prelude to his Nets contract expiring, all the hype and it turns out: Freedom is fleeting for the planet's best point guard.

	Jason Kidd would hardly be a Spurs fan favorite with Tony Parker around.

To ever consider a sign-and-trade, Thorn would have to believe Kidd would sign with San Antonio for the full scholarship, leaving the Nets with nothing. Nobody believes this has a chance of happening. Nobody. As much money as the Spurs can offer -- $95 million or so -- they offer more pressure on Kidd. More controversy. More isolation.

Kidd doesn't want it. His wife, Joumana, doesn't. Yes, Kidd can have his championship with the Spurs. Eventually, Duncan and Kidd will get one together. Maybe two. Yet, what happens when Shaquille O'Neal gets into shape, Dirk Nowitzki and Chris Webber get well and the Spurs don't repeat in 2003-2004?

Guess who gets blamed?

It won't be the two-time MVP and NBA champion center. It'll be the carpet-bagging point guard.

And if the Spurs do win the title, so what? They won it without Kidd. All along, his thoughts on leaving the Nets had centered on his place in history. Understand something: Kidd will be remembered as a bigger winner for turning one of the biggest joke franchises in sports into a championship contender than he'd ever be remembered as a winner for throwing himself onto Duncan's back.

All this wait for his free agency, all this discussion and it was doomed the moment the Nets met the Spurs in the NBA Finals. How can Kidd lose to a team in June and join them in July? This just isn't his competitive nature, his way. As much as his agent, Jeff Schwartz, has tried to create the illusion that Kidd would leave the Nets for a max-out offer, it hasn't happened. (Denver, Jeff? Denver? Please. What championship are the Nuggets playing for this year? The Big 12?).

Throwing out Denver as a possibility is a complete embarrassment to his client. One minute, Kidd is talking title. The next, his agent has him considering an annual trip back to Secaucus as the Nuggets' good-luck charm in the draft lottery? What a joke. It just confirmed everyone's suspicions: If Kidd was truly serious about the Spurs, his camp wouldn't be dispensing these kinds of superficial smokescreens. It's all a big bluff to secure sign-and-trade possibilities and no one is buying it.

	So, Kidd will take his trip to San Antonio on Sunday, hang with Tim Duncan and let Spurs officials make the hard sell to him. Kidd will take a long look, find it intriguing, but ultimately, he'll realize none of it belongs to him down there. And it never will.

And it's all just as well. For months, Kidd has talked publicly and privately about his desire to stay a Net. Even if his agent said Tuesday, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Kidd is the face of the franchise, which will never happen with Duncan and the Spurs. His wife, Joumana, wants San Antonio like she wants a rafters seat in Continental Airlines Arena. "Extra!" doesn't have correspondents covering the rodeo in San Antonio, but the TV show had Joumana on assignment in the Hamptons this week.

Life is good in Jersey. Kidd will be the conquering hero for choosing to stay, whereas his signing in San Antonio would be met with resistance out of a fandom fiercely loyal to Tony Parker. The Nets made it to six games in the NBA Finals, within a fourth-quarter collapse of a Game 7. Kenyon Martin and Richard Jefferson are rising stars. The East is the Nets' to own for years. The Kidds are the first family of Metropolitan New York sports.

So, Kidd will take his trip to San Antonio on Sunday, hang with Tim Duncan and let Spurs officials make the hard sell to him. Kidd will take a long look, find it intriguing, but ultimately, he'll realize none of it belongs to him down there. And it never will. He started something with the Nets. He changed everything in Jersey, and yes, Jersey changed so much for him, too.

Jersey isn't perfect, but it's home now. Thorn isn't romancing his franchise player. He isn't courting him. He's just waiting. The offer is there: $100 million, the face of a franchise and a job that still isn't done. It is just a matter of time now.

Adrian Wojnarowski, who's a columnist for The Record of Bergen County, N.J., is a regular contributor to ESPN.com. He can be reached at ESPNWoj@aol.com.