GLENS FALLS, N.Y. -- Amid the sounds of bouncing basketballs and squeaking sneakers, San Francisco 49ers receiver Terrell Owens pulls up a chair, extends a handshake and smiles.

	Owens has the passion, the body and at least some of the game to play for real.

You wonder, "Where's the real Owens?" You know, the guy who stomped on the midfield star at Texas Stadium two years ago. The guy who seems to bicker endlessly with head coach Steve Mariucci. The guy whose face says he's mad at the world and whose words often bite. Where is that guy?

Right in front of you.

Owens has come to this tiny town in upstate New York, to this glorified pit stop between Manhattan and Montreal, to chase a dream. After another year of fighting with Mooch and a postseason request to be left unprotected in the expansion draft, Owens has escaped, if you will, to play professional basketball for the Adirondack Wildcats of the USBL.

But if you think this is some slick PR move designed to raise his national profile, or maybe just another way to stick it to his coach, you're wrong. Owens says he's serious about this hoops stuff. It's what makes him happy. How serious? How happy?

"If somebody came up to me and was like, 'You know, you'd be better doing this on a more serious level,' then yeah, I'd take a shot at it," Owens, 29, said of his lofty dreams to play in the NBA.

"I don't have the same passion for football like I do basketball. It's just a different atmosphere for me. Basketball, this is what I love."

	“	I don't have the same passion for football like I do basketball. It's just a different atmosphere for me. Basketball, this is what I love. ”
		— Terrell Owens

Part of that, you figure, is just Owens being Owens, the moody, unpredictable, eccentric star who speaks whatever's on his mind and doesn't think twice about it. But the more you talk to him, and the more you talk to those around him about his hoop dream, the more you're convinced the smiles, the handshakes and the words are sincere. So are the thick beads of sweat falling from his head and the bright orange ball twirling at the tip of one finger. For Owens, screen passes don't hold a candle to bounce passes.

"My first couple years in the NFL, I was looking forward to going to mini-camp and starting the season, but it hasn't been that way for the last three or four years," Owens said. "It would be different if I grew up wanting to be in the NFL. That would be like my dream is fulfilled, and I wouldn't be out here. But that was never the case. So here I am."

Which makes you realize how torturous this must be. Football, the sport where Owens has made his millions and become a star, doesn't excite him. Don't be mistaken, he fully appreciates his good fortune on the gridiron and has done everything possible to make the most of it. But it's not his first love. That would be basketball, a sport where he has little realistic chance of ever making the big time and a zero chance of matching his NFL earnings.

Consider him the equivalent of any 9-to-5 slug who gazes out the office window, wishing he could have been a rock star.

"Ten years ago, if he could have chosen his path, he would have picked the NBA," said David Joseph, Owens' agent. "And we've talked about it many, many times. But even if everything fell perfectly into place and he made the NBA, he's not going to be the player he is in the NFL. Football is still No. 1. He knows that."

Reality check
But it's fun to pretend, to play make believe. Joseph compares his client's adventures in basketball to the movie "The Family Man," where Nicolas Cage gets a glimpse at what his life would be like had he chosen a different path.

In the movie, Cage eventually begs not to go back to his real life. Whether Owens will do any similar groveling remains to be seen.

	“	It may be something he does for the rest of this week and then never tries again. Or it may be something that he does every summer. We haven't decided yet. For now, he's just enjoying this glimpse. ”
		— David Joseph, Owens' agent

"It may be something he does for the rest of this week and then never tries again," Joseph said. "Or it may be something that he does every summer. We haven't decided yet. For now, he's just enjoying this glimpse."

On the court, he certainly looks the part, from his baggy black Nike shorts to his skin-tight muscle shirt and fresh Air Jordans. In fact, the only thing that sets him apart from his teammates are his bulging physique, which stands out even more among the rail-thin basketball players, and his blinding diamond earrings.

His first game, May 5, Owens played seven minutes and scored seven points. In one exchange, he buried a 3-pointer in his opponent's face after having one drained in his a few possessions earlier. But two nights later, he was relegated to leading cheers -- Owens didn't leave the bench as the Wildcats fell behind early and lost a close game to a division rival.

On Tuesday, after further acclimating himself to not only the Adirondack offense but the Adirondack players, he was in the starting lineup. Though he had an impressive breakaway dunk at one point, his overall line wasn't pretty: Two points, one rebound, one steal, one assist and five turnovers in 16 minutes.

For Owens, who was once told by Malik Sealy and Shaquille O'Neal that he had NBA potential, it has been a reality check.

"I sucked," Owens said after Tuesday's game. "Obviously I'm not where I need to be or where I want to be. I'm average. But I'm getting better. I'm going to keep working hard in practice so I can feel more comfortable out there and help my team win some basketball games."

Before last week, Owens hadn't been formally coached since playing as a walk-on at Tennessee-Chattanooga six years ago. It shows. The little nuances of higher-level hoop have eluded him -- how to pump fake over an opponent's outside shoulder instead of straight-up, or how to pivot his rump into a defender to protect the ball.

"There are times when he isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing, but he's somebody who soaks stuff up like a sponge," said teammate Fred House, the team's second-leading scorer and the NBDL's Rookie of the Year this past winter. "Once he gets more comfortable, he'll stop thinking so much, and then I think you'll see his athletic ability take over."

	“	You can tell that he has a lot of potential, that there is some ability there. But even if he dedicated himself to this 365 days a year, he just doesn't have the ability to make it on the next level. He'd be out of his league. ”
		— NBA scout

Still, a future in the NBA is doubtful. There might be some hope as an Ahmad Rashaad or Master P celebrity drop-in during the preseason, but a complete career change isn't likely.

The 6-foot-3, 226-pound Owens is a basktball swingman, playing shooting guard and small forward, positions that require tremendous versatility. In the NBA, he'd be asked not only to score as a slasher and shooter but also to defend the likes of Kobe Bryant, Allen Iverson and Paul Pierce.

"You can tell that he has a lot of potential, that there is some ability there," said one NBA scout who saw tape of Owens' play this week. "But even if he dedicated himself to this 365 days a year, he just doesn't have the ability to make it on the next level. He'd be out of his league."

Living the dream
So that makes Owens just another pro athlete living out a two-sport fantasy. From Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders to Michael Jordan and Roy Jones Jr., it's nothing new. Until now, Owens has fed his basketball jones with offseason pickup games and charity events. But when the invitation came this year to play for the Wildcats, he couldn't resist.

He joined the team May 3, after the 49ers' mini-camp, and he plans on staying through at least May 12. He has taken out an insurance policy to protect against injury. And he insists that his flirtation with pro basketball is more similar to Jordan playing minor-league baseball than to Randy Moss' brief fling with the USBL last season.

"A lot of people think I'm crazy for doing this, but I told the guys, even if I leave, I'm coming back," said Owens, who is donating his basketball salary, some $500 a week, to a Glens Falls charity. "They pretty much laugh at me and tell me, 'Nah, we'll never see you again.' But they're wrong. This is something I enjoy."

Out in San Francisco, opinions on T.O.'s two-sport trial are mixed. Niners general manager Terry Donahue has publicly disapproved of Owens playing basketball, but Mariucci has supported his receiver, as long as it doesn't affect his performance this fall.

"There's a part of you that you worry about any sort of injury, but he's always had a certain love for basketball," Mariucci said. "We all know that. We'll keep our fingers crossed and hope he stays healthy and has some fun."

So far that's exactly what has happened. Since arriving in New York for hoops, Owens has been anything but the difficult, petulant superstar that the media and fans have criticized in recent years.

	The Owens seen in Glens Falls, N.Y., is a far cry from the one with the bad rep in San Francisco.

He has been the first to arrive at practice and the last to leave -- often even well after the coaches, trainers and janitors. He signs autographs, talks to the local reporters and even hangs out with his new teammates. After Tuesday's win, he treated them to a postgame meal at Applebee's.

"At first, we didn't know what to expect," House said. "We didn't know if he was going to come in here all cocky, demanding all these things and flashing all this fancy gear. But he's been incredible. He's come in here and blended in as one of the guys. I don't look at him as a superstar football player. I look at him as another one of us chasing his dreams."

If there ever was a time for the "other" Owens to step forward, it would have been last Sunday, after Owens didn't play a single minute in Adirondack's loss. But during the game, Owens passed out water to his thirsty teammates. And after the game, there was no venom-filled tirade, no prima donna grandstanding. Instead, Owens sought out his coaches to assure them he understood why he didn't play and that he wasn't upset.

After that, he stuck around for 30 minutes to take part in the team's postgame autograph session and surprised everyone by showing up for beers and hot wings with his teammates at O.T.'s, a local pub.

	“	He could have gone back to his hotel room for filet mignon, but he came out with us for chicken wings. That speaks volumes about how bad he wants it. He truly wants to know what it's like to play in this league. ”
		— Kelvin Upshaw, Adirondack assistant

"He could have gone back to his hotel room for filet mignon," assistant coach Kelvin Upshaw said, "but he came out with us for chicken wings. That speaks volumes about how bad he wants it. He truly wants to know what it's like to play in this league."

The stories about the smiling, laughing, happy-go-lucky Owens don't end there. Before Sunday's game, general manager Mike Sweet mentioned to Owens that he had received a stack of fan mail that he figured T.O. wanted him to throw away.

"Hold on a second," Owens said. "You got a Sharpie or something?"

Sweet did and handed it to Owens. After the game, T.O. returned a stack of signed and re-sealed autographs, ready for the post office. Two days later, when a fan asked him to sign a raggedy old football with a ballpoint pen, Owens ran to the locker room to get a permanent marker so the signature would not only show up, but last.

Last year, Sweet orchestrated Moss' appearance with the Pennsylvania ValleyDogs. While Moss reportedly demanded that he be flown in on a private jet and shuttled to and from games in a limo, Owens is staying at a modest hotel and tooling around in a rental car.

"I can't say this enough -- he's been absolutely incredible," Sweet said. "And I'm not just saying that. In this league, you get guys who won't play for your team unless they're guaranteed 30 minutes a game. This guy complains about this, that guy complains about that. There are a lot of headaches. So to see someone like T.O., a true superstar, come in here and act like this has been truly refreshing."

It's certainly not the same T.O. last seen trying to talk his way out of San Francisco, or accusing his coach of taking it easy on opposing coaches to preserve friendships. And certainly not the same boasting ball of fire that twice celebrated touchdowns on the Cowboys' star.

Last month, Owens had a three-hour meeting with Mariucci in Atlanta, Owens' offseason home, to iron out their differences. And at 49ers mini-camp last week, he reportedly was as comical and jovial as ever. So is he a changed man?

Yes and no. Joseph says that every offseason, his client settles down and is in a better mood. Owens, on the other hand, says it's playing hoops that has made him happy. In fact, he went as far as to say this is the happiest he has ever been and that his friends are taking notice.

"They tell me on the phone, 'You know, Terrell, you sound good,' " Owens said. "It's just me. I'm a very moody person. Everybody knows that. And basketball is what I grew up to love. It makes me happy. I can't tell you how great it is to get back running up and down the floor, chasing down loose balls. It's something that just puts a smile on my face."

After Tuesday's comeback win over Brooklyn, Owens was the last player to head for the showers. He lingered around the empty court, schmoozing with his agent, soaking in the atmosphere. It was as if he simply wasn't ready to leave. In one hand, he fidgeted with his headband. In the other, he batted around a mini basketball.

His teammates, meanwhile, were showered, changed and ready to hit Applebee's.

"Hey T.O., you coming or what?"

"Of course," Owens said. "Lemme shower and I'll be right out."

Of course.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com. He can be reached at Wayne.Drehs@ESPN.com.