Carmelo Anthony will sell tickets, titillate Celebrity Row, make the Garden a warm attraction in the dead of winter, hopefully for many more winters.

But this is supposed to be about bringing a championship to New York, and he is doomed, he will never win that elusive championship if he has to do it alone. Because no one can, not even LeBron. You think Bill Russell would have won even once with Melo’s supporting cast?

The Knicks need to get him help, better help than this, while he is still in his prime, because otherwise they are fooling themselves and fooling their fans.

In J.R. Smith they cannot trust.

It doesn’t excuse Melo’s fourth quarter. In retrospect, “choke” may have been too harsh a word, so let’s agree his fourth-quarter swoons in Games 3, 4 and especially 6 shined a blinding light on a franchise player left stranded inside the same, dark, black hole inhabited all those years by Patrick Ewing, held hostage by what looms as little more than a pipe dream and probably always was.

On this Knicks team that talked the championship talk but couldn’t even walk to the Eastern Conference finals, Melo is a ballhog if for no other reason than there isn’t anyone else you want with the ball in his hands most of the time.

But there is a great difference between being recognized as a great scorer, or even a great player, and a great winner, and Melo still has yet to navigate that gap. His 23-43 playoff record will serve as damning commentary on his legacy until the franchise finds him his Pippen or his Wade, and good luck with that. And also until Melo is willing to share the spotlight and the ball the way Amar’e Stoudemire did here.

Because when he is asked to carry the Knicks for 48 minutes each and every night, he will inevitably be reduced to a mere mortal in those Winning Time playoff moments when it is mandated that he be Superman, and he discovers Kryptonite in his headband.

And you sure would have liked to have seen some anger from Melo after the season ended as a failure, something like, “This is unacceptable.” You got nothing of the sort. What happened to the guy who was “starving” — his word — to win a championship?

You would think after a decade trying to get one, he wouldn’t give you the impression he is OK with a step forward from a single playoff win to a single playoff series win.