Duncan has sent coach Gregg Popovich running for the game manual, too. As soon as he found out the Spurs had won the draft lottery, Popovich started scheming about the possibilities of playing the 7-foot Duncan and the 7'1" David Robinson together. "We started tinkering with the X's and O's and trying to reinvent the lightbulb," says Popovich. "Then we coaches looked at each other and said, 'Boy, we are really going to screw these guys up.' Hopefully, we've developed a framework in which they can have the freedom to use all their skills."

Robinson's skills, out of commission for most of last season because of injuries, are famously abundant—he was the NBA's 1995 MVP—and Duncan's have proved to be even better than advertised. In eight preseason games he averaged 15.3 points, 10.1 rebounds and 1.5 assists. "He's a great passer, he shoots the ball well, and he seems to be comfortable on the court," says Robinson. "He has a good sense of where people are and what he needs to get done."

"He's really smooth," adds Elliott. "I guarantee you that sometime this season he will be criticized for not playing hard, because he makes everything look easier than it is."

Popovich points to Duncan's unflappability. In a summer league game against the Trail Blazers, Duncan didn't bat an eye when fellow rookie Kelvin Cato blocked his shot and taunted him with a pointed finger. "Tim just sprinted back on defense," says Popovich. "His facial expression and body language didn't change. He's such a pro already."

Indeed, the perpetually chilled-out Duncan can't think of a thing about his pro career that hasn't met his expectations. "But then, I don't think I was really expecting anything," he says with a shrug.

Duncan certainly isn't expecting or seeking the limelight, which should make him a good fit on a team that, except for Dennis Rodman's two seasons in San Antonio, hardly ever makes headlines. "David Robinson just donated $5 million to a community center," says director of media services Tom James, "and I couldn't get anyone to write about it."

For the past year the only story on Robinson has been his injuries. While suffering back and foot woes last year, he played in only six games. But he was merely the most sorely missed of the Spurs' many MIAs; also on the sidelines were forward Charles Smith, who missed 63 games with an arthritic right knee; Elliott, who was out for 43 with tendinitis in his right quadriceps; and small forward Chuck Person, who missed the season after undergoing back surgery last fall. With so many players in orthopedic distress—did we mention that at one point, center Will Perdue and forward Carl Herrera wore face masks because of broken noses?—San Antonio won only 20 games, an NBA-record 39-game plunge from the year before. Robinson says that strengthening his back has put him in the best shape of his life. Elliott and Person are almost fully recovered, which means the Spurs could break the mark for the biggest one-season upswing, a standard they set when they improved by 35 games in 1989-90, Robinson's rookie year.

Barring any further injuries, San Antonio could go deep into the playoffs. "Talentwise, I think we can compete with anyone," says Robinson. "But we've got a new offense, three guys back from injury and a new guy. That's a lot to assimilate."

If the Spurs do put it together, they may end up rewriting the game manual.

—Kelli Anderson