Philadelphia ? Michael Jordan didn’t reign supreme at All-Star Weekend. The NBA’s official bobble-head doll, the one everyone took home in his or her free goodie bag, featured a caricature of someone else.

Fella by the name of Ben Franklin.

But other than a founding father, no one else could pull rank on Jordan. Only he could make the All-Star Game matter this much again. Just as he will next season in Atlanta.

“The mystique don’t ever go nowhere,” observed Allen Iverson.

The grammar was a bit tortured, but the sentiment was dead on. You saw it a day before the West’s 135-120 win in First Union Center on Sunday. When the West’s stars practiced, a few thousand fans watched from their seats, mildly interested in a half-court shooting contest that ended the workout.

But when Jordan took the floor, it was as if President Bush had appeared to the strains of “Hail to the Chief.” Everyone rose. Flashbulbs started popping. The lasting memory? The vast majority of fans remained standing throughout the entire 45-minute workout to watch Jordan barely break a sweat. The guy still has that kind of hold on people.

“He adds glare to the game,” Kevin Garnett said.

“And class,” added Chris Webber.

Just as Magic Johnson and Larry Bird once did.

“And when the greatest player in the history of the game comes back to the All-Star Game,” Webber continued, “it’s something to remember.”

Kobe Bryant will remember it for all the wrong reasons. He won his first MVP with his hometown fans booing him every time he touched the ball. When did an Eagles game break out here? We have come to understand that booing is an accepted form of communication here, but Philly fans reached a new low.

And in another first, Jordan heard laughs. They came late in the first quarter, when he was ahead of the pack, going in for a breakaway dunk. The judges were poised to score his latest dunk when …

“The wheels started turning,” he said. “I started trying to figure out, ‘Well, what will you do?’ And you just lose concentration. As much as you wanted to be creative and you listen for all the signs in your moves and your body and you’re just worried about something popping.”

Remember, he’ll be blowing out 39 candles in another five days.

“As you get older, you just don’t have the same type of confidence,” Jordan said. “You’ve got to go through a checklist and I went through the checklist, and by the time I was ready to dunk the ball, I wasn’t there.”

So now we find out he’s human.

“Everybody misses dunks,” said Tracy McGrady, who produced the game’s most memorable play when he threw a pass to himself off the backboard and went in for a dunk. “He’s not the Jordan he used to be. He can’t put his hips up to the doggone rim.”

Jordan’s astonishing miss came on a day when everyone was prepared to defer. Eight of his East teammates were having the thrill of their lives by getting their first chance to play alongside No. 23. Even Iverson, who refrains from passing the ball ahead to open teammates on fast breaks, promised to throw him a lob.

“I just want to say I was on the other end of one,” Iverson said.

But he never got the opportunity. Before Jordan even stepped on the floor, he told Bryant, “Don’t make this thing personal . . . I’ll foul out in the first five minutes.”

Everyone thought he was up to his old tricks, conning everyone in the place. Surely he’d produce another memorable game and stick it to the young guys.