TARRYTOWN, N.Y. -- Nate Robinson is being Nate Robinson, talking fast and often, to no one and anyone. The newest member of the New York Knicks is hoisting each shot as though he needs to get it out of his system before reporting to coach Larry Brown.

And he's not hitting a thing.

Fortunately for him, these stats can be erased. Because the game is Electronic Arts' "NBA Live 06" -- the first time Nate Robinson can actually be Nate Robinson on the screen. That's why he's going a little overboard with his shot selection and causing a scene in the center of the gym. That's why he's yelling and complaining about his inability to finish in the lane. And that's why he's looking over his shoulder for help.

To his left is the Hornets' Brandon Bass, his opponent, and he's not saying a word. He's slouching in a chair that doesn't quite fit him, quietly blowing out Robinson while maneuvering his new teammate, Chris Paul, who is doing the on-screen damage.

The action is as intense as the hip-hop blaring in the Knicks' training facility, where 34 of the league's newest members -- not including Andrew Bogut (on vacation), and Ike Diogu and Andrew Bynum (at Pete Newell's Big Man Camp) -- recently gathered for a photo shoot with Topps, Upper Deck and NBA Entertainment. And a date with two video game stations.

Pick a rookie, any rookie, and if it's his turn at the helm, then the chances are, he's toggling through his rotation, making sure he's in the lineup and touching the ball 95 percent of the time. There are oohs and aahs and complaints about player ratings. There are guys fooling with the tattoos on their graphically-enhanced bodies. And there's young Monta Ellis, straight out of high school, in his new navy blue Warriors jersey, getting so excited he just yanks the controller out from the console.

They're giddy because, ironically, the virtual action is the closest thing to representing the rookies' new reality.

They're in the game.

For Bass, it started the night before. The second-round pick was having a bad day. Until, that is, he received his jersey for the first time. He tried it on as soon as he got back to his room, wearing a smile brighter than his blinding yellow outfit. Says Bass, "I forgot about everything."

Adds Sean May of the Charlotte Bobcats, referencing the league logo on his jersey, "Just having that Jerry West on your shoulder, it's a dream come true."

They're property of the NBA now, right down to the logoed socks on their feet. And it's all happening so fast.

Why, just the other day, Paul, the fourth overall pick, was at the NBA store and lo and behold, his jerseys were on display. So he did what anyone else in his position would do: He bought six of them, two of each color, for his mom. Because, well, he could. Unlike when he was younger and poorer and there was no such thing as shopping.

The lifestyle -- the overabundance of many things, including autographs, interviews and posing -- will surely take some time getting used to.

Especially the posing.

Hey, these guys are familiar with taking hundreds and hundreds of shots in a gym, just not the kind that necessitate umbrellas, curtains and backdrops. And definitely not the kind that call for pretty rather than macho.

Prep star Gerald Green, now of the Boston Celtics, just wants to show off his muscles. Although, when Detroit Pistons big man Jason Maxiell walks by, he admits: "I ain't like Maxiell and got them tanks. I got little BB guns."

It doesn't matter. On this day, he'll have to practically seduce a basketball. He'll even have to cross his arms as if hugging himself, and rest his chin where X marks the spot -- a stance that had him running like mad across the gym, unable to speak, seeking empathy wherever it could be found, making sure he wasn't the only one who had to experience that awful, awkward posture.

Still, the rookies have their moments of fun. Usually at each other's expense, of course.

With different stations set up all over the gym, the rookies try to make each other laugh during shots. The Denver Nuggets' Julius Hodge catches Maxiell posing with his back to the camera and busts on the forward's big behind, which is built for boxing out.

Meanwhile, May gossips that he saw his teammate Raymond Felton practicing for the shoot the night before, saying he even saw the point guard shaving his chest hairs. Felton denies it, saying that's something May would do.

Actually, the only guy who didn't outright deny posing the night before was Hodge, who deadpanned: "That's between me and my mirror."

Perhaps it's a reflection of their attitude, perhaps they don't want to be seen as poseurs.

Says Felton, "I know I'm not a model, I'm a basketball player."

On the far end of the gym, there's a half court with no special lighting, no hi-tech equipment and no room for overgrown youngsters to play ball on. The right side of the court is littered with practice jerseys that will be worn by the players for special Topps inserts.

Still, Green and Ellis are trying their best, going one-on-one on two-thirds of the court. Until more company arrives.

Then Green has the Washington Wizards' high school star, Andray Blatche, down on the block, bunched up on the left baseline. Ellis has his hands full with Celtics forward Ryan Gomes in the middle of the lane.

They're showing off their moves, talking smack and high-fiving anyone watching. They're hacking each other and asking for outside help from anyone brave enough to make the call.

The Class of 2005 has been touted as one of the deepest in recent memory, and the players are not short on confidence.

"It'll be really interesting to see how we transition into the league," says Paul. "We love the game. It's not about the money and all of that stuff. It's not about the fame or the glory of the NBA. It's about the opportunity to play basketball with the best players in the world.

"It's about the competitive nature."

About outposing each other in front of the cameras. About beating each other in a video game, even if it means the NBA rep is tugging at your arm, growing impatient.

About stepping up to the challenge of carrying the league for the next 15 years, while bringing fun and excitement to an arena near you.

A crowd has gathered at the station curtained off in the corner by the deejay, where Upper Deck is on a half-court, photographing action shots for the rookies' NBA cards. It's Green's turn, and while most have seen his highlights on SportsCenter, they want to see him with their own eyes.

"Informer" by Snow plays in the background. And before you can say a licky boom-boom down, Baby T-Mac is throwing down dunks. With ease.

Ten cameras catch the action at all angles, one photographer high up on a ladder in the left corner. Meanwhile, a row of rookies has gathered behind the basket, looking and acting like something right out of All-Star Weekend. Antoine Wright of the Nets gets there just in time to see one of Green's windmills and flashes eight fingers.

"His athleticism is off the charts," says the Knicks' Channing Frye.

As an encore, Green tries to go between his legs in midair, only he can't get a grip on the ball during the transfer. No matter, when it comes to trading cards it's not about how you finish, it's about how you imagine the finish.

What's easier to get a grip on is the bond between members of this class. The bond that brought a dozen of them to watch Boston's high-flying act. The bond that Felton says is the defining characteristic of this group.

At lunch, outside the complex, underneath a big white tent, the rookies are scattered. There is a table full of stars from the big-name universities -- the UNC quartet of Felton, May, Rashad McCants and Marvin Williams, plus Deron Williams from Illinois and Hakim Warrick from Syracuse. There's a table of current teammates sitting together -- such as the Celtics, Hornets and Knicks.

And then there's a random table that includes two former college seniors (Hodge and Travis Diener, Magic), one junior-entry (Francisco Garcia, Kings) and two high school stars (C.J. Miles, Jazz; and Louis Williams, 76ers).

These guys seemingly have the least in common, yet they goof around like old buddies -- thanks in large part to Hodge, a New York product with an Eddie Murphy-like laugh, who's got a line for everything.

Where does he keep his card collection? "I hid them so well I can't find them."

What did he do to his sister, who used to rip up his cards? "I bit the feet off her Barbie dolls."

Now he's using his material on Garcia, who came in late from taking pictures.

"Did you break the lens?" Hodge says, trying not to laugh.

Garcia is not amused. And soon the jokes are flying. Hodge on Garcia's accent. Garcia on advancing farther in the NCAA Tournament. Hodge on Garcia's four points in the Final Four. And then on being picked three spots before him. The high schoolers are eating it up. So is Diener, who hasn't touched his burger, electing to gnaw on his plastic fork and listen to the funny banter instead.

Garcia can't win. Staring up at him from his plate? Hot dogs.

These rookies are flashy for sure. But ask them how they'll stand out from their peers and they're quick to say they're gonna work harder than everybody else.

Which is why Deron Williams can say, "When it's all said and done, I think there's gonna be some superstars, some All-Stars that come out of this class."

For now, though, they have a more immediate challenge: lasting through the day. The dancing has turned to sprawling. The yelping to yawning. Robinson has found a comfy spot on the hardwood, stretched out with his eyes closed. Five feet away, Jarrett Jack is doing the same, with his red Portland Trail Blazers jersey pulled high over his head.

The only guy who seems to have any energy left is Green. His secret? "I had a big ol' brownie that was bigger than me," he says, his eyes bulging in convincing fashion. "That thing was big."

But soon word is spreading that another high school phenom, Portland's Martell Webster, is draining half-court shots on the semi-empty court.

Suddenly, a second wind comes rushing through the gym, carrying all shooters to the court. Felton. Robinson. Wright. McCants. And Luther Head of the Houston Rockets.

Another competition is quickly underway.

They're on the outside lawn now, finally. Wayne Simien of the Miami Heat, acting as the big brother of the group, had to round up the stragglers and shepherd them one step closer to the bus that leads to their hotel rooms.

Poll the photographers who've done this shoot for almost 10 years and they say this has been the most cooperative rookie class ever. However, age is starting to show as some of the players begin to grumble. They're tired and have other things on their minds, like sleeping, eating and playing more video games.

But first, one last order of business: group photos.

They're lined up, with backpacks on their shoulders and headphones on their ears, waiting for further instructions. Warrick places a piece of jewelry around his neck that once graced Felton's and says, "So this is how it feels to be top five."

Soon they begin to organize themselves as best they can in size order, or in this case position order, with guards in the front and big men in the back.

Not the easiest task. Especially when Robinson starts spitting at the air. "Too many bugs," he complains.

Add in Hodge's offering up a few more wisecracks and now whoever was within earshot can't stand still.

Finally, they settle down. That is, until Webster interrupts the session already in progress by coming in late.

Some people on the outside looking in are shouting instructions. Some are trying to get the rookies' attention. But most are just enjoying the spectacle. They know the newbies will get it together.

It just might take some time.

Matt Wong is an NBA editor at ESPN.com. He can be reached at matthew.wong@espn3.com.