Talking The Talk.(language translation for foreign basketball players )

It's the middle of the first quarter at the Denver Pepsi Center, and Brazilian rookie Maybyner (Nene) Hilario is on fire. Fresh off the bench, the 6-foot-11 center grabs a defensive rebound and heaves it down court to a teammate for an easy two points. Soon he snatches the ball away from a hapless opponent again. On the sidelines, Nuggets coach Jeff Bzdelik is on his feet, yelling at the speedy Hilario to sprint up the court and slam the ball home. But Hilario simply grins back, the picture of incomprehension. Luckily, Joe Santos is there. Bzdelik calls a timeout. And as the coach frantically scribbles out a play, Santos is at Nene's ear translating every word into Portuguese. "Nene, when you see the ball--go there quick! And if you see a charge, take it!"

You won't find Santos's name on the Nuggets' roster. But he couldn't be more valuable to the team. He holds the newest, and potentially fastest growing, job in America's professional basketball league: translator. Hilario--the seventh overall pick in the NBA draft last year--doesn't speak a lick of English. It's Santos's job to explain plays to him, to translate coaches' tirades, to guide him through media sessions, to help sort out the finances--and even to play Nintendo soccer when called upon. "We live together, we're friends, it's almost like we're siblings," says Santos, 27.

More than a decade after NBA Commissioner David Stern launched an ambitious campaign to market basketball overseas, globalization has hit the game full press. Last spring National Basketball Association teams picked a record 14 foreign-born players. Last week the No. 1 draft pick, 7-foot-5 Yao Ming of the Houston Rockets, beat out superstar Shaquille O'Neal in the balloting to represent the Western Conference at center in the upcoming all-star game. And a record six international players--including Hilario--have been chosen to play in the all-star weekend's Rookie Challenge on Feb. 8. With talent scouts now scouring the world from Africa to Azerbaijan, the NBA is becoming a bizarre cultural melting pot of millionaires living the American Dream before they even know the language.

That's where the translators come in. In addition to Santos, there are at least three other active translators in the NBA, paid by the players. Their backgrounds are varied; Santos, a Toronto native of Portuguese descent, originally planned to work on Wall Street. But after September 11 he re-evaluated his life and decided to follow his passion: basketball. He met Nene (which means "baby") while scouting for players to represent in Brazil. He promised Hilario's family he would live with him, help manage his career and take care of the phenom.

It's a good thing he did. At just 19, Hilario arrived as a sheltered, fresh-faced kid from an industrial town outside Sao Paulo--and promptly signed a four-year, $9.8 million contract with the Nuggets. Then he drafted Santos to work for him for a modest salary and a portion of overseas marketing deals. The arrangement provides Hilario with comfort, guidance and a taste of home. For Santos it's the closest he'll ever come to playing pro ball. "It's almost like [being in the NBA]," says Santos. "You get to have conversations with Marcus Camby, and find out he's just a great guy!"

Of course, the job involves more than ...