Before we begin, I insist you drop any sharp implements and remember that old saying about the messenger – and how you shouldn’t stab him, string him up, or otherwise spindle or mutilate him. Even if he says something you don’t want to hear.

Even if he says something you hate. Even if he says something you don’t believe.

Trust me. Ninety-nine percent of you aren’t going to like this one bit. And some of you are going to get downright ornery.

Cindy Blodgett will never amount to much as a pro.

There (duck).

Surely I jest? Nope. I’m as serious as, as, as … a pig on Slimfast. As an eagle on Rogaine. Super-duper serious.

Cindy, you see, has some problems.

First, you’ve got to ignore the fact that you know how good Cindy is. You’ve got to ignore the fact that she once made 10 million straight baskets outside her parents’ Mutton Lane home in Clinton, and you were there to see it, dagnabbit! Amazing!

You’ve got to look at Cindy like the WNBA looks at Cindy.

Picture Cindy as, say, Woody Allen. Without the glasses and insecurity and neurotic quirks. She’s typecast, ladies and gents.

Cindy – as far as the WNBA can tell – is a spot-up shooter. Period.

In Cleveland, that was her lone role. Two seconds left in the half? Need a quick 3-pointer? Hey, Cindy. Get your head off the Gatorade jug and get in there. You warm? This play’s for you.

In Sacramento, her role figures to be similar. Blodgett said coach Sonny Allen described his expectations like this: “Run down the right-hand side as fast as you can … and when you’re open, shoot the ball.”

That’s all fine, except for one thing (again, no maiming the messenger). Blodgett can’t really shoot that well.

Sure, she can beat you and me in H-O-R-S-E until the C-O-W-S come home.

But spotting up and shooting long-range jumpers is the offensive thing she’s least good at. That side of her game merely kept defenders honest. And it set up all the other stuff.

In college, Blodgett shot just 35.3 percent on 3-point attempts. Sure, she fired up some of those shots from Veazie. But remember this: During her senior year, Blodgett’s 3-point accuracy was fifth-best on her own team.

Blodgett is a creator. She beats people off the dribble. And WNBA coaches have no interest in letting her do that.

Want another problem? Try this: Lost in the giddy afterglow of the trade that supposedly rescued Blodgett from the evil Cleveland empire is what Sacramento thought Blodgett was worth when they traded for her.

In a nutshell: Nothing.

Quacy Barnes? She really ripped it up last year. Career best? Four points. Two rebounds. Oops. Forgot. She blocked ONE shot six times. Yippee!

Trading Barnes for Blodgett is roughly akin to swapping Greg Kite for Chris Dudley.

Which brings us to another problem. Like the Kites and Dudleys of the world, Blodgett can play exactly one position.

For her, it’s off guard. She has the skills – but not the mindset – to play the point, and she can’t play small forward.

And that doesn’t bode well for Blodgett. At best she’s third on the Monarchs’ depth chart. At worst? Fifth.

Can she play? Sure. Can she score against WNBA guards? You bet. But will she get the chance?

Not in Sacramento.

Just remember: You didn’t hear it here first.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter.