The theory posited here is tabloids are in a large way responsible for the creation of a great sports town. New York and environs have three of those babies. And each offers sports on the back of the paper.

Providing some absolutely captivating headlines –“HIP WRECK,’’ “DOPE OPERA,’’ HIP-HOPE,’’ were three on A-Rod’s torn labrum – and a measure of overkill.

The non-tabloid New York daily, yes the Times, briefly was able to step back from the Rodriguez story with a reflection on Terrell Owens, the receiver who as at each stop previously, San Francisco and Philadelphia, outlived his welcome and was waived by the Dallas Cowboys.

Almost immediately, T.O. was signed by the Buffalo Bills – poor devils; they’ll learn – but the Times piece was how he should have been acquired by the New York Jets.

New Yorkers delight in pointing out their degree of sporting sophistication, but in reality they are no less provincial than the residents of Denver or Cincinnati. In fact, they are more.

And because three of the TV networks, the primary wire service and four major papers are located there, the country invariably is set up to believe if it’s not the Yankees who count it’s the Mets. It certainly isn’t either the Knicks or the Nets.

Third basemen. A-Rod is one. So is Eric Chavez of the Oakland Athletics. He’s attempting to recover from his own injuries and Monday unexpectedly was not able to start as a position player for the first time this spring.

Did anyone notice? Not in New York. It was more of the same. More of A-Rod.

The imbalance is startling. The Phillies won the World Series over the Rays. Pittsburgh and Arizona played in the Super Bowl. Last year’s NBA finals matched the Celtics and Lakers, and this year’s very well could do the same. In the Stanley Cup finals, the Detroit Red Wings defeated the Pittsburgh Penguins.

Not a New York team among the group. But New York hype and self-loathing was everywhere we looked.

When Rodriguez, after consultations, decided to have his hip partially repaired immediately instead of waiting, the New York Daily News, paraphrasing Derek Jeter, headlined, WE WILL SURVIVE. They might, but will anybody else?

No ill will is wished for A-Rod, an MVP, a star, but the coming days in the New York press will be devoted almost entirely to his recovery. Sure, room will be found for the NFL draft, of Giants and Jets variety that is, but be forewarned. Basically the next five months will be Rodriguez and more Rodriguez.

Of course it’s a conspiracy. Had A-Rod stayed with the Mariners, with whom he entered the majors, or with the Rangers, we would barely know of the man. The $252 million contract he signed with Texas did raise him a bit out of the ordinary but nothing like being a member of the Yankees.

You recall that Alex and his agent, the dreaded Scott Boras, explored the idea of joining the Red Sox. That would have been a hoot.

The pieces never would have fit together the way they do in New York, the tabloids, the critics, the Yankees’ inability to advance to the World Series or last season even to the playoffs.

New York is in love with itself. As depicted in that historic New Yorker magazine cover, the people perceive everything beyond Manhattan and the Bronx as wasteland.

An oft-repeated axiom is that while at other locations everything works but nothing matters, in New York very little works and everything matters.

With that sense of entitlement, as it were, New Yorkers hurl their thoughts and preferences at the rest of us, who have spent a lifetime trying unsuccessfully to avoid them.

At the moment, A-Rod doesn’t work, and to the news folk gleefully observing the situation that matters more than anything else in sports.

It’s difficult to determine whether Alex Rodriguez is a bigger story playing or not playing. We are about to find out. Unfortunately.