bill-laimbeerjpg-5f7f32617b39f575.jpg

Bill Laimbeer, who coached the Detroit Shock to three WNBA titles, hopes to have similar success as new coach of the Liberty. (Photo by 2002 ASSOCIATED PRESS FILE PHOTO)

NEW YORK — In what qualifies as one of those solutions that had no problem — or the kind of officious overreaction that sports leagues often master — the WNBA has followed the example of its NBA overlord and will begin next season to punish the act of flopping.

Which means that kids making $37,000 a year are going to get hit in the wallet, because (oh, the humanity) they have been getting away with this terrible deception for too long.

"Well, it’s a fine line between what is and isn’t flopping," Bill Laimbeer said. "You could easily say, ‘What is it with all these people falling all over the place?’ "

So you’re for it, then.

"I didn’t say that," he replied, all sing-songy. "I’m just saying that finding the fine line is problematic."

That’s what you say as head coach and GM of the Liberty, we suggested. What would you say if you were still a player?

"I never flopped," he deadpanned, before his face melted into a mask of mirth. "That’s my answer, and I’m sticking to it."

It was not our intention to play "Gotcha" with the greatest flopper the sport has ever known. We just wanted to gauge how far he’s come since his Detroit Pistons days, when he could incite a riot in a dozen ways, most of them involving melodrama — a flop, a shove, a covert elbow, a fake outrage.

Chuck Daly, as he often did, put it best once: "Laimbeer," the great coach said, "could drive people insane and then just walk away — he was like Gandhi."

"People disliked me because I never went away," Laimbeer corrected. "I was always there, and people couldn’t stand it. I was an irritating person to play against, and I’d get under your skin."

No one ever doubted his talent for this. Check out how many Laimbeer videos there are on YouTube, and then count how many are tagged with "fight," "flop," "cheap shot" or "hard foul." Spoiler alert: The answers are "3,700" and "more than half." And a large number involve him getting punched in the face by a 1980s wing of the Hall of Fame: Charles Barkley, Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Robert Parish, et al. Oh, and Isiah Thomas, if we’re including practices.

There should be some kind of medal for that.

"The Bad Boys moniker will live forever," Laimbeer said triumphantly. "You see they’re now doing a documentary on those Pistons teams? It was our identity, and we’re proud of it. But no, there’s no medal for getting punched. The real badge of honor is the championship."

Oh, that.

Yes, he’s fairly accomplished in that area, too.

We were sitting upstairs in a coffee shop two blocks east of the Garden, where nobody gave any notice to the man who might be the most influential coach and GM in the history of this 16-year-old women’s league. His first lap around the WNBA was in Detroit, where he took over a last-place team in 2002 and turned the Shock into a champion in eight months. Two more titles followed, before he left the league in 2009.

Now he’s back with the Liberty, who will start their final season in Newark in May because of renovations at MSG. If you follow the league at all, you know it needs him badly. First, this market needs a big personality to stimulate interest in a league whose attendance has cratered. Second, the Liberty have been consistently mediocre since Richie Adubato left nearly a decade ago, and need Laimbeer’s extraordinary eye for talent.

He loves what he does — on this day, he was on his monthly campaign for sponsors and season-ticket holders, a 10-day jaunt — but Laimbeer strikes you as a very serious fellow. Once he seemed like the guy who might insert his foot in his mouth and keep chewing until he got to mid-femur. But he’s very shrewd, and he’s a terrific advocate for the league. He is even — yes, perish the thought — PC when he has to be.

Example: We’ve long held the theory that it’s the NBA that has become fairly sissified, as they’ve legislated ways of removing contact almost every year since Laimbeer’s career (1980-94). If the sports consumer paid attention, he’d notice that the women play a far rougher game because the WNBA is a hustle league — period — with no breathers on its 34-game schedule.

"Let’s just say that we changed much of how the women’s game is played when we came with bigger, faster athletes with the Shock," said Laimbeer, who bullied the league with the likes of Cheryl Ford and Ruth Riley. "And we were vilified for it. The old guard said, ‘Oh, you’re ruining women’s basketball.’

"And I just said, ‘No, this isn’t woman’s basketball, it’s professional basketball played by women. This is how the game is played. It’s a physical sport, played by great athletes, who want to show themselves for who they are.’ "

By the time everyone caught up, Laimbeer had a dynasty.

We regret to report that he won’t go so far as to call that men’s league a bunch of wimps, however. He just spent two years on Kurt Rambis’ staff in Minnesota, and would like to get back in someday.

But for now:

"These women are really good. They’ll never be the men. But what’s underappreciated is that these are the most talented athletes in the world at their chosen profession," he said. "Appreciate them for what they do, and you’ll like the game.

"But no, it’s not violent. Women aren’t violent. There will be the occasional elbow, but they don’t get into fisticuffs very often. ... Well, just once in a while."

Still flopping. In a good way.