An Internet report last week asserted Kobe Bryant presented a sales pitch for the Purple and Gold to Dwight Howard, who was so turned off by Bryant’s effort it curdled the Lakers’ chances of signing Howard long-term should they be able to acquire him this season from the Magic.

Scooter the Recruiter’s proposition: Come here and be the third offensive option behind me and Pau Gasol and be our “Tyson Chandler.”

Supposedly, Kobe also made it clear Los Angeles would be Howard’s, “but only once he [Bryant] decided he was done playing.”

All that was missing was, “Hurry, offer ends at midnight tonight.”

None of what the author claimed came out of Kobe’s mouth sounded like it’d been transmitted from his cerebrum.

You have to wonder if the idea (ghostwritten by Karl Malone?) were to break a story or make Kobe seem colossally condescending and in need of a cane for his brain.

I’ve got to believe someone who has been around the block as long as Kobe has, sometimes in reverse, would have better shtick than “Come to Hollywood and be Door No. 3.”

Even Monty Hall is offended.

Despite finding everything implausible, I felt obligated to track down the truth in this case on account of the megawatt luminaries. So, I decided to eliminate the middle man, pass the savings on to the consumer and go right to the source — only one of two that actually exist — and ask the horse.

“Please separate truth from fiction for me re: Howard stuff,” I emailed Kobe several days ago.

“As far as what? I have no clue what’s even being said. I have a lot to deal with as it is,” he replied.

That was extremely revealing in itself. In other words, L.A.’s media, especially the Lakers’ beat writers, felt the story lacked such credibility, nobody even bothered to ask Kobe about it.

I pressed on, nonetheless. I sent Kobe the story and asked him to confirm, deny or both depending on the paragraph.

“omg! I’m not getting mixed up in this kiddy drama spit, bro. too old for that spit,” Bryant responded via email.

“How do you think I feel at my age having to chase down this stuff,” I answered. “I understand your position. But if it’s untrue, any of it, and allowed to circulate throughout the league, which already is happening, I would think you’d want to say it’s not.”

“It’s not true,” Kobe responded.

* While on the subject of L.A., it seems Gilbert Arenas has scheduled a workout party (BYOBB; bring your own bail bondsman) there sometime this week. Potential shooters and suitors are invited to attend at their own risk.

As much as the Lakers crave what the World’s Greatest Arenas offers when physically and mentally healthy, they would be wise to boycott. A team can get away with one unbalanced World without spinning into infinity, not two.

In an unrelated matter, Javaris Crittenton is in the planning stages of arranging a work-release workout.

* Nobody could have been more staggered by Jeremy Lin’s all-purpose performance against the Nets than Mike D’Antoni.

After all, the brains of the Knicks outfit is entirely responsible for keeping Lin all but a secret (55 minutes in nine games before entrusting him with the ball for a team-high 36 against the Nets) since the Harvard playmaker arrived in late December.

So, while the Garden crowd was on its feet losing its lungs each time Lin split the defense for dashing drives, nailed mid-range springers (0-for-4 from downtown) and craftily found teammates with bounce passes ro alley-oops for uncontested layups or dunks, I shook my head in disbelief and disdain.

For months (weeks in Lin’s case), we’ve all been misled to believe not having a prototype caretaker is largely to blame for the Knicks’ disharmony and dysfunction. This sorry 10-15 season became all about impatiently waiting, as column contributor J. R. Roberts puts it, “for the release of Baron Davis’ latest compact disc.”

That’s been the Knicks’ story line. How did we know what Lin could do? But what we did or didn’t know about him is unimportant. What’s of paramount pertinence is his faculties escaped D’Excusio, which is inexcusio.

I presume the head coach saw Lin scrimmage out of the corner of his eye at least once or twice. I’m guessing they were at practice at the same time.

And, what? D’Excusio didn’t think Lin had the goods to cut it in the NBA? Couldn’t grasp Lin flaunted much of what the Knicks lack?

That’s how desperate D’Excusio must have become. To defer his discharge, he was willing to try anything and play anyone.

I look at Lin’s explosive emergence differently than the celebrants. It shouldn’t save D’Excusio’s job. Take a Hike Mike’s month-long burial should have gotten him booted after Saturday’s win.

A Princeton friend tells me a player now in Europe, 6-foot-8 Kareem Maddox, wiped out Lin defensively. Notwithstanding his size, he was able to keep his body in front of Lin and force him to take jumpers under pressure. That fact certainly makes one wonder about the quality — or desire — of NBA defenders, namely Deron Williams.

“Lin doesn’t have to be a star, just competent,” counters column contributor Phillip Marmanillo, who has sent me many an email advocating the 6-foot-3 guard get quality daylight. “He could have given the Knicks 15-20 minutes per game, playing pick-and-roll with Amar’e [Stoudemire].

“As for his jump shot, critics said the same thing about Jason Kidd and Magic and Ricky Rubio. Lin was the only player on Harvard so neutralizing him there was a lot easier than alongside Stat and Melo.”

Afterthought: Wonder what Lin talks about in the locker room and whether he is understood by anyone other than Landry Fields?