I'm about to find out that designing the perfect NBA team is nothing but a recipe for a raging migraine.

I suspect that I will gain nothing but the ultimate respect for the general managers and coaches I cover. They don't have it easy. Critics and naysayers lurk around every corner, waiting to criticize every personnel move, eager to suggest with the benefit of hindsight how they would've done things differently.

Mark Warkentien is the NBA's reigning Executive of the Year. (Getty Images)

The object of this exercise is to start with a clean slate -- no GM, no coach and no players -- and build a winning NBA roster from the ground up. Building a perfect team is an imperfect science. We will have to start with a few assumptions, and those assumptions will dictate every decision, from the GM down to the last guy on the bench.

The first assumption comes straight out of the current collective bargaining agreement. The roster will include the league-established minimum of 13 players under contract. Since we're a team starting from scratch, we'll assume we have a lottery pick. So a first-rounder from the '09 draft will be one of our 13 players.

We're not taking into account how many years the players have left on their contracts -- meaning, I'm not going to shy away from LeBron James just because of the 2010 mystery. Let's assume this team is competing this year, and this year only. When it's over, we'll take our championship trophy and go home.

Here's the challenge: The payroll will add up to not a dollar more than the 2009-10 salary cap of $57.7 million. Like me, my team is based in the small market of Queens, N.Y. We have it all -- diversity, great pizza and bagels, an endless selection of restaurants, and a short drive to Manhattan and the endless possibilities it has to offer. But we can't spend like the Knicks or Lakers. Sorry, folks: We also have some of the highest tax rates in the nation, so I'm not eager to add luxury tax to the list.

The biggest impact of this spendthrift approach will be the simple fact that you can't afford two max players without paying luxury tax. Well, you could, but you'd have to fill out the rest of the roster with guys from the YMCA. For example, if you start with LeBron ($15.8 million) and want to pair him with a great point guard like Chris Paul ($13.7 million), you would need to find 11 more players for only $28.2 million. Chances are, you would have to choose one superstar over the other. That's where things get interesting.

That's why I'm starting my team with a general manager who knows how to do more with less, who specializes in finding gems among the minimum-salary dregs of the league, who isn't afraid to take calculated risks, and who hasn't enjoyed the benefit of making personnel moves with a pocket full of blank checks. That's why my GM will be Denver's Mark Warkentien.

There were plenty of fine choices available. Nobody has taken the long view and built from within better than San Antonio's R.C. Buford. Nobody has managed superstar egos better or done it more quietly than the Lakers' Mitch Kupchak. Nobody crunches numbers better than Houston's Daryl Morey. But for my money -- and I don't have much -- Warkentien is the obvious choice. (I will be in touch with his agent shortly to see if he will donate his time pro bono.)

Warkentien schleps to D-League outposts to find affordable starters like Dahntay Jones. When it comes time for Jones to get his big pay day elsewhere, Warkentien replaces him with a cheaper equivalent in Arron Afflalo. The GM isn't afraid to take chances, as exhibited by his acquisition of Allen Iverson. When it becomes apparent that the risk has outweighed the reward, he isn't afraid to undo it -- as he did when he parlayed Iverson into a championship-caliber point guard, Chauncey Billups. If Warkentien doesn't have a first-round pick, he trades for one on draft night and steals Ty Lawson with the 18th pick, giving his team a viable backup and eventual replacement for his aging-but-capable point guard.

I don't want to play musical chairs with my head coach or with the system I'm playing, and Warkentien fits that requirement, too. He believes you pick a coach, invest in him and stick with him through thick and thin. That's what I would want him to do with my coach, once we reveal which one we're hiring next week.

Just as in the NBA, there's no cap for coaches' salaries. So when it comes to the guy -- or gal -- who will be designing plays and massaging egos, money is no object. (Which is good, because none is actually being exchanged.)

Every week, we'll reveal the next piece of the puzzle, starting with the coach and ending with the most important piece of all -- the one superstar we can afford. I already have a short list of coaching candidates, but suggestions are welcome -- as long as they're thoughtful and fit the paradigm set forth above. For example, if this was going to be a roster stacked with All-Stars and backed by a $100 million payroll, the obvious choice would be Phil Jackson. But do you want to see the Zen Master struggle with a payroll that's only about two-thirds of what Phil coaches in L.A.?

Also, any recommendations should come with the understanding of what kind of team you're assembling. If you're spending big money on a point guard, Mike D'Antoni is probably your guy. If you like the idea of pairing LeBron with an above-average point guard at best, you probably want to look elsewhere for a coach. If you want to win with defense, maybe Nate McMillan is the choice. It's up to you; but in this organization, I get final say.

One more word about how this team will be judged before we get started. This isn't a fantasy team. We're not trying to assemble a team with the highest PER or accumulate the most points, rebounds or assists. After we're done, you're welcome to run the numbers and see how it all turns out. But we're trying to assemble a team that can win, which makes evaluating our choices 100 percent subjective.

Which is good for me, since it means the Perfect Owner of the Perfect Team can never be fired.