Imagine for a moment that you pull a Marty McFly and end up plopping down in a Carrier Dome seat, say, 10 years from now.

And as now-Jurassic public address announcer Carl Eilenberg finishes presenting the Syracuse starters, you hear: “The head coach of basketball at Syracuse University – in his first year – Mike Hopkins!”

Startled, you glance toward the Orange bench and see — nestled in a huddle of shaved heads — Hopkins’ Pacific-sized wave of blonde hair that instantly conjures up memories of Zack Morris.

Shocking? Sure. Jim Boeheim’s is the only face you ever look for when Eilenberg proclaims those words.

But plausible? Certainly.

Hopkins, an SU assistant since 1995, has what it takes to be the next SU head coach. He can recruit — look at SU’s recent classes. He can relate after spending four years as an SU player. He can definitely run, as Hopkins takes on players 10 years his junior in practice.

The question is: How much longer will Boeheim stick around?

Now don’t get the wrong impression. I’m not trying to suggest Boeheim should consider retiring. He’s only 57 and has at least another five years in him.

But in light of Sunday’s court-naming ceremony that honored — among other contributions — Boeheim’s longevity, it’s not unreasonable to consider the future. Truth be told, Boeheim could walk away tomorrow. He’s previously said it’s a year-to-year thing.

“If I get the opportunity to go become a head coach that would be a dream come true,” Hopkins said. “Obviously, everybody would love to coach at their alma mater.”

And he will. Hold me to it. Whether it’s within two years or 10, Hopkins will be SU’s next head man.

Now, there are a couple routes Hopkins could take to the throne. He could a) stay at Syracuse, a place that’s grown on the Californian, and bide his time as an assistant or b) take a head coaching job at a smaller school to get some experience before coming back to SU.

“I don’t think that there’s a timetable,” Hopkins said. “I want to be overprepared when I get my opportunity. And if the right situation comes about, I’m going to have to jump at it.”

Hopkins has had a couple of “sniffs,” but no serious offers yet, he said. And you could reason that there’s no way a six-year assistant without any previous head coaching experience could step into the head coaching job at a major Division I program.

But you’d be forgetting Roy Williams, who did that at Kansas. And Quin Snyder at Missouri. And Mike Davis at Indiana. And, yes, Jim Boeheim at Syracuse. All have had success breaking in at big-time schools.

If anything, Syracuse would favor Hopkins because, as a current assistant, the transition would be smoother than if the school hired an out-of-town coach like Tim Welch, a former Boeheim assistant now at Providence.

To doubt Hopkins’ ability to react when thrust into a foreign situation, you’d be forgetting how Boeheim took a gamble on him as a rookie coach six years ago and as an unrecognized player 12 years back.

When he first broke into coaching, Hopkins specialized in scouting and sponging knowledge. In his words, he’d stay up late “studying tape like you’re studying for a math exam.”

“I was really trying to watch coach Boeheim in everything he does,” Hopkins said. “From how he calls a timeout to how he talks to the refs to how he talked to the team during timeouts.”

Hopkins started to relish his role working with SU’s guards. He tutored Jason Hart and Lazarus Sims, guys who in Hopkins’ words “wanted to get drunk on shots and repetition.” They’d call Hopkins on Friday nights, asking to go shoot, and again on Saturday mornings, looking for a running partner.

Can’t you just hear Hart with Hopkins’ wife, Trisha, on the line? “Can Coach please come out to play?”

Hey, the proof’s in the pudding: In 1996, Sims led a no-name SU bunch to the national championship game. Today, Hopkins continues to foster a close relationship with his guards.

“He’s played here so he knows us,” freshman Josh Pace said. “And he could probably know us better than the other assistant coaches. He’s kind of like us.”

Well, Hopkins tries his best. His one-on-one games with the guards during practice often boil over with fierce competition.

“It’s so easy for a coach to say, ‘Go shoot those and I’ll sit over here,’ ” Hopkins said. “But I want to sweat with him. I want to hit him. I want him to hit me. I want it to be physical. I want it to be intense. I want to motivate him.”

Earlier this year, a showdown between Hopkins and point guard James Thues got so heated that the pair ended up tussling on the floor. They’ve since reconciled and recounted the event as positive.

“It made our relationship a little bit better,” Thues said, “because we have a respect for each other and I think that’s big. He’s like a big-brother coach.”

Credit Hopkins with an assist for Thues’ acclimation to the starting point guard role and for DeShaun Williams harnessing his talent this season. Give Hopkins a takeaway for stealing the show as entertainer extraordinaire.

He brings kids into the locker room for autographs after games. He’s the first one off the bench during offensive explosions. He’s even been known to nail a Jim Carrey impression.

During a recent practice, shortly after center Jeremy McNeil returned from a temporary leave, a reporter was interviewing Hopkins to get his take, as a former player, on Boeheim’s career.

“Hey Jeremy,” Hopkins shouted. “You were a former player, why don’t you answer this?”

Remember, though, this is the same Hopkins who was so grateful to come to Syracuse in 1989 from San Mateo, Calif.

“I was like one of those European guys who came to college in America that lived in Bosnia,” he said. “You want books. You want a roof over your head and a meal card. And let’s do this.”

As for adjusting to SU’s weather, Hopkins came here with a goose-down jacket that “looked like Puff Daddy,” Sorrel boots hiked up to his knees, two pairs of long underwear and a video depicting winter.

“It took me 25 minutes to take off the first layer,” he recalled. “I was a burning inferno with all those clothes on.”

The spindly surfer dude also showed some court moxie early on, earning floor burns from his throw-caution-to-the-wind playing style.

“He went out and gave you everything he had every day,” longtime SU assistant Bernie Fine said.

Hopkins went from a role player as a freshman to a crowd-favorite captain as a senior.

By then, he had a new pursuit — Trisha. The two went on a first date, but Trisha never scheduled a second. The summer after graduating, Hopkins said he “went with the thought of maybe getting the Heisman again” and won her over. The two now live in Trisha’s old neighborhood in Syracuse with their son, Michael Jr., who was born last March.

Should he jump at an offer elsewhere, Hopkins would certainly miss what he calls “Syracuse hospitality” — the community that’s embraced him, from his skinny legs all the way to that tsunami hairdo.

But there’s no doubt here that he’d come back, this time carrying something a bit weightier than those layers of clothes: his dream job and a one-way ticket to the future.

Published on February 25, 2002 at 12:00 pm