May 23, 2003

     So many things are the same.
     The smile. The big, brown eyes. The grace with which Nykesha Sales takes the ball on the wing and makes her way toward the basket.
     A member of the Connecticut Sun, Sales is home - in many ways, just how Connecticut remembers her. A basketball player with remarkable talent, capable of things many around her are not.
     Yet, there are differences.
     No longer a college kid, she is an adult with an independence gained from her first extended period outside of our state, in Orlando, Fla., a city now as much a part of Sales as Bloomfield and Storrs.
     The little girl who grew up shooting hoops near her parents' Pasture Lane home is still part of her. But she is a woman now who knows the world a bit better. She is glad to be back for many reasons, but while UConn made her "Cool Keesh," her time in Orlando, where she owns a home she may not sell, helped make her Nykesha Sales.
     "Something very important to Nykesha was going out and being able to live, finding a life," said UConn women's basketball coach Geno Auriemma, who speaks to Sales every few weeks. "And I think she's done that. You can see she's grown and matured, that she's now very self-reliant."
     Recently, Sales learned the harsh realities of business in sports. She was a major factor in the Mohegan Sun's decision to purchase the Orlando Miracle when three teams were available in the off-season. But four days into training camp, Sales was holding out for a better contract during what became an episode of "he said, she said" with Sun management and coach Mike Thibault.
     By the second day of camp, a frustrated Sales returned to where she is most comfortable. She went back to Orlando. This was all new to her. She spoke to close friends Tracy McGrady, Antoine Walker and Jalen Rose, all NBA players. Each said the same thing. Don't worry about it. Don't take it personally. It's just business.
     It was another period of growth for Sales, no matter how brief. The holdout ended after five days, with Sales agreeing to a three-year contract for near the league maximum of $85,000 a year. The next day, she was back in Connecticut and under the direction of Thibault, her third coach in as many years.
     Sales sat down with Sun general manager Chris Sienko, also a UConn graduate, and was assured the team was thrilled to have her. She sat down with Thibault, who said he looked forward to helping her become one of the best players in the league and that nothing was ever personal, just misinterpreted. Sales said the same. And then she was handed a playbook.
     "We're two adults," Sales said. "We're past all that. We won't even talk about it again. He didn't know me. I didn't know him. "I'm new to all that [contract negotiation] stuff. When I'm going through that, I think [not playing this year] is for real. ... If it didn't work out, it wasn't meant to be. Obviously, it was meant to be. Just when I thought I wasn't coming back, I got a call."
     Now Sales, who turned 27 on May 10, will be called upon to up her game.
     The perception of Sales is simple. Her talent is largely unmatched. Her enthusiasm, even by her own account, often needs spurring. Sales, many say, is a star who, in the right environment and with the right motivation, could be a superstar. A 6-foot guard/forward, she has been amazingly consistent as an All-Star in each of her four years, averaging between 13.4 and 13.7 points.
     But many say there is more there, including Dee Brown, the coach of the Miracle last season. Sales approached Brown shortly after learning the Miracle would relocate to Connecticut.
     "She's disappointed because she could be better, but she's also optimistic because she can be better," Brown said. "Her talent is amazing. She's got all the talent in the world. It's great that she's home. I think that can motivate her a little more. I'm happy for her because maybe she needed a change. Change is good and so is the added pressure of being the hometown hero.
     "The thing is, she's always been better than everybody. Then all of a sudden you have to put more time in to stay at that level. Nykesha is good enough that she'll still be one of the best players in the league just by coming to the gym. Now, what makes you become that elite player like a [Tamika] Catchings or [Sheryl] Swoopes? Well, it's working hard and spending more time in the gym, getting there early and leaving late. Those are things I talked about with her that could make her a superstar."
     Auriemma's Approach
     Auriemma laughs when recounting how he treated Sales during practices at UConn.
     "Every time Nykesha got beat back on defense, Rita Williams would get yelled at," he said. "I'd yell, `Rita, why didn't you pick her up?' And Rita would look at me like, `What did I do wrong?'"
     "Yeah," Williams said. "I remember that. Everything was the point guard's fault. [Auriemma] motivated different players in different ways."
     Sun forward Rebecca Lobo, a teammate of Sales' on UConn's 1995 national championship team, said Auriemma brought out the best in Sales. He "found that switch" that turned Sales from the laid-back kid from Bloomfield, where she was the 1993-94 USA Today High School National Player of the Year, to a first-team Associated Press All-American in 1997-98.
     "In life and on the court, she just has that [easy-going] demeanor, but that doesn't mean she isn't good or isn't out there giving 100 percent," Lobo said. "I would love to see her just become one of the top five players in the league."
     Auriemma is tough on some (Svetlana Abrosimova) and soft on others (Sales).
     "I wasn't one of those people to yell in her face," Auriemma said. "That was never my approach with Nykesha. Kids used to get on her about it. ... I overlooked a lot of the things Nykesha didn't do, knowing all the things she could do to help us win."
     For instance, Sales, despite twice being named Big East defensive player of the year, didn't always show the proper intensity without the ball and was prone to taking unnecessary gambles. But she holds the school-record for points in a game with 46, and Auriemma could count on shots such as the three-pointer Sales hit in 1996 with 4.2 seconds left to send a national semifinal against Tennessee into overtime.
     She was special. Special in spurts, but special.
     By then, Sales was thrust into the national spotlight, where her reaction to notepads and microphones still varies. She can be forthcoming one moment, reluctant the next. She often is willing to talk, but other times begins walking away while answering a question.
     "Now that I've been away, I enjoy not being right up under everybody. I have my space. And that's [what is good] about being in Orlando," she said. "But you never get sick of the attention. If you finish practice and no one wants to talk to you, there's something wrong."
     Sales said she wouldn't be the player or person she is without UConn, but, knowing what she now does, leaving Connecticut would have had benefits, too. She ventured just 30 miles from Bloomfield, finishing as UConn's all-time leading scorer, the final two points coming on a staged layup at Villanova after Sales' career was cut short by a ruptured Achilles' tendon.
     By the way, the controversy surrounding "The Shot" that once reduced her to tears now elicits only a smile and a shake of the head.
     But some things never change.
     "That's what I'm known for," she said. "The layup. Wherever I go."
     Growing Up In Orlando
     Sales' early memories of Orlando aren't as warm as the shining sun she grew to love. She felt a bit out of place after being assigned to the Miracle. She was used to Bloomfield, used to UConn, used to home. And at that point, Orlando felt like anything but home.
     And coming off the injury, Sales didn't know what to expect from herself while looked upon as the cornerstone of a professional team.
     "It was a little harder," Sales said. "It was really tough. ... I'm supposed to be a leader, but I'm not very vocal. I matured fast, having those roles."
     Eventually, she fell in love with Orlando, purchasing a condo just a few months before learning her team would move to Connecticut, where she is the Sun's greatest marketing tool.
     Thibault stepped up to the podium at Mohegan Sun Arena after being introduced as coach in March and spoke generally about the importance of Sales' role in helping the Sun improve upon a 16-16 record.
     Minutes later, he was more specific.
     "I think there's more there, and I've told her that," Thibault said. "She basically agreed. I just think she can do more everywhere. ... She has to show [opponents] that, `Hey, I'm Nykesha Sales. Don't mess with me.' Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying she's had poor years. I just expect a lot. My expectations are for us to be a really good team and for her to be the leader of a very good team."
     Sales' improvement won't be judged by points scored. It will be judged by effort, the subtleties of the game and a commitment on defense.
     "Every year I want to seem like I've improved," Sales said. "But I think it's my job to maintain. You come in in great shape, do all the things you are supposed to. But once you get to the halfway mark it starts to be like, `OK, my body is hurting a little bit.' I have to get over those humps, get used to playing those games. It's my responsibility to understand my body and what I have to do to keep it at a high level. It's all on myself. Do I want to get in, do the extra work, do the extra lifting?"
     Well ...
     "If I decide I want to do it, I'll do it," she said. "If I don't, I don't. I'm still learning."
     Already, though, Sales says she is in the best shape of her life after working out four to six hours a day in Orlando with Wayne Hall, who also trains McGrady. And Thibault says he has been pleased thus far with Sales, who averaged 15.5 in two exhibition games.
     Sales will play each home game in front of her parents, Kim and Ray, who declined to be interviewed for this story, and she'll visit them and friends from high school frequently.
     "I've gone away, I've matured and I've come back," Sales said. "I don't have to depend on my mom and dad and other people to help me out. I've learned to go out and venture. I've learned to do things on my own - find friends, learn how to live without any help."
     Still, in the same conversation, Sales is part playful child, part mature adult. Perhaps she is both.
     So, Nykesha, are you still a kid?
     "Yeah, I think so," she said. "I turned 27 but until I say it, I don't feel like I'm old. If I think about it, I still think I'm like 21 or 23. But when I say 27, it's like, `Oh, shoot. I'm 27.' But I feel like I'm in my prime now.