NEW YORK -- Think Brian Hill might have some regrets about his return visit through the Disney World turnstiles?

Ladies and gentlemen, your Orlando Magic, central Florida's most dysfunctional tourist attraction.

Phony Orlando, losers of the first three of a four-game trip, have dropped six-of-seven (five of their last seven opponents have scored at least 108 points) and 15 of 21.

The Magic, lest we forget, actually began the season with seven wins in their first 13 games.

For those who might have missed all the happiness, the Magic are in suspended animation . . . namely Steve Francis (team) and Dooling (league).

With 3:22 left and Orlando trailing 103-88 in Wednesday night's blowout in Seattle, Francis refused Hill's re-entry request, one, in my view, that crosses the border of disrespect. If the three-time All-Star isn't good enough to be in the game at that point, why embarrass Steve by asking him to join a sacking in progress?

Yet there's no question Francis was loud wrong to resist. The last thing we want to hear is backtalk from the backcourt (on the bench and in the locker room), especially from a guy on the books for $13.7 million, $15 million, $16.4 million and $17.8 million for the next four seasons.

Regardless whether Hill's marching orders are fair or unjust, rational or irrational, courteous or discourteous, like everyone else, Francis must do what he's told to do or pay the consequences. Stevie Disenfranchised was promptly banished from the team indefinitely for conduct unbecoming.

Francis was reinstated by the team on Monday.

By all accounts, Hill is displeased with Francis' style, willingness to please and diminished capacity.

By those same accounts, Francis is displeased with his reduced role, responsibility and reverence, perhaps the biggest hurt of all.

Use to being allowed to run lights, as well as dribble the shot clock and the night away under Rudy Tomjanovich (Jeff Van Gundy couldn't cure him, hence the multi-player exchange for positively peeved Tracy McGrady), new guidelines have confined him to play more off the ball.

That might be acceptable were rising super power Dwight Howard the focal point of the offense, or if the team had won more than 13 of 34. But, so far, the radical role switch only has resulted in a significant increase in shots for Jameer Nelson, Hedo Turkoglu and DeShawn Stevenson.

While Francis' average has sunk from 17 points per game to 12.8, Howard's number shows an insipid swelling from 8.26 to 10.6. Rather than encourage a one- or two-man show Hill appears to be advocating an evenly scaled attack.

All five above-mentioned regulars have hoisted between 372 (Francis) and 340 (Turkoglu) shots.

Still, you've got to wonder about the benefits of that balance when Nelson, a starter only six times out of a possible 34, has squeezed off nine more rounds than Howard in 280 fewer minutes.

If you're Francis you're got to be babbling all sorts of astringent nothings to yourself: Like, "Hey, I can do that. In fact, I've done that repeatedly;" Or, "I don't mind deferring to a 6-11 (211-cm) force, but not to a second year player;" or, "What do you need me for?"

In other words, Francis has become persona non-grata and obsolete. Limbo has never been so overcrowded. Yo, Steve, say hello to Ron Artest, Tim Thomas and Penny Hardaway.

Remember when Francis was drafted by the Vancouver Grizzlies in 1999 and refused to report, thus compelling Stu Jackson to deal the No. 2 overall pick for the immortal Michael Dickerson, Brent Price, Othella Harrington, Antoine Carr and a future No. 1 choice?

Guess who the head coach was at the time?

Brian Hill, who lasted 22 games into that season.