For the above questions, both Chandler and Curry answered, "Fit in," "Lose the game," and "Sixteen." And considering the Bulls drafted them second and fourth overall, they must've aced the damn thing.

"They told me afterward I was fine, that there was nothing wrong with me," Curry says. "Beforehand, I was thinking, 'I hope they don't make me take the test again.' That wouldn't have been good."

So these are the kind of personalities we're dealing with -- young ones -- and that's why drafting them so early and giving them so much cash and free sneakers is an unsettling proposition. Some of them can handle it, some can't, and there are theories on every side.

The word on high-schooler Kwame Brown, the Wizards' No. 1 overall pick, seems to be that he's new to the game and that he's from a podunk town, so he's hungry and will work hard. Or that may not be true.

The word on Chandler is that he's been a child prodigy since the eighth grade, that he wants to be a 7' shooting guard, that he's athletic as hell, that he's been living off his hype for years, and that he may have peaked. Or that may not be true.

The word on Curry is that he only started playing seriously in the eighth grade, that he loves the game more than Chandler as a result, that he's not as jaded, and that he's smart enough to keep his butt exactly where it should be: in the paint. Or that may not be true.

Put it this way: when you're forming opinions about 18 year olds, that's all they are -- opinions. But here's what we learned about them anyway, in case you want to go down that road yourself and decide if they'll be any good:

After one of Chandler's worst summer league games (2 points, 1 rebound), he said, "All I know is I need some sleep."

One of Chandler's friends, trying to explain Chandler's poor performance, said, "It's hard learning to play in that triangle offense." One problem: the Bulls weren't using the triangle offense.

One of Chandler's favorite moments was going to work out for the Wizards before the draft and finding Randy Moss there on the sideline. Moss then took Chandler out to dinner. "He gave me good advice on how to be a pro," says Chandler. One problem: no one's sure if Moss knows how to be a pro himself.

Chandler has had two stages in his life: Before 60 Minutes, and After 60 Minutes. He had just finished the eighth grade when the TV magazine show followed him around for a summer. His life was never the same.

For instance, before the show, he'd gone to one Lakers game in his life, and he sat in the nosebleed seats. But after the show, in the ninth grade, he was invited to sit in the front row -- by Shaquille O'Neal.

"Turning point in my life," Chandler says. "All of a sudden I had a name. Before, I was just playing for fun. I was attacking everyone. But now everyone was attacking me. I was like, 'Why is everyone angry at me?' "

He's had to live up to that show ever since.

For instance, in high school, some opposing players would ask after games if they could have their pictures taken with Chandler. He'd say yes.

He started getting tattoos. In fact, Chandler has a tattoo on his shoulder that's the same tattoo Allen Iverson has: "Only the Strong Survive." When he seemed particularly down in the dumps after a shaky summer league performance in Long Beach, his comment was, "I've got to listen to my tatt."

Chandler also has "Vernie" tattooed on his arm. It's his mother's name, and if nothing else, he hasn't forgotten where he came from. He remembers, for instance, that his mother could only afford to buy him a pair of sneakers every two months, and he remembers how cherished these sneakers were.

"We'd get shoes on special occasions like Thanksgiving," he says. "And my mom always used to tell me not to be playing after the street lights went on. So I'm playing basketball one day, and I see the street lights flickering, so I start running home. And I hop the gate, and my shoe gets caught on the gate, and it rips open the toe part of these black shoes. And I'm, 'Ahhhh, my mom will kill me. I just got these shoes.' And I'm calculating how long I'll have to wait for new ones: a month-and-a-half.

"And so every day, so I wouldn't get teased at school, I'd paint my socks black with my mom's eyeliner so the kids wouldn't see it. Because I had a big hole in my shoe. And I hid it from my mom because I would've gotten in trouble. She would've made me wear them that much longer if she saw that hole. I mean, I couldn't tell her, 'Mom, I need some more shoes.' She wasn't going to give them to me until she got paid again, so it didn't matter anyway. This is when I was in the fifth, sixth grade.

"And I'll never forget. When it was time to buy new shoes, she saw my old ones and said, 'Boy, what you done to your shoes? I'm glad you're getting new ones.' And I wanted to say, 'Yeah, I've been wearing them for a month now like that.' But I didn't say a word."

Chandler has the fastest, easiest smile on the Bulls, and he's polite. He seems intelligent, and he also has an older girlfriend who attends Hampton University in Virginia. But he never took the SATs or ACTs.

"Tyson knew he wasn't going to college!" Curry says. "That's what I always talk about with him. I say, 'Tyson, you knew you weren't going to college in the eighth grade.' He just laughs and says, 'Yep.' "

Of course, Chandler says if he had taken a recruiting visit, it would've been to one place and one place only: "The University of Hawaii," he says. "Free vacation."

Curry, on the other hand, actually committed to DePaul, although he eventually broke the heart of DePaul's head coach Pat Kennedy and turned pro. "He probably cried," Curry says of Kennedy. "No, he didn't cry. Because he knew there was a great chance I wasn't going to college."

Curry says he pared his college choices down to six schools. He just can't remember which six. "It was UConn, North Carolina, DePaul, Illinois and, uh, uh, uh ... I haven't talked about colleges in a long time."

Curry has lost 50 pounds, and says his weight will never be a worry again. But some aren't convinced. "Curry could be a good player," says Utah coach Rick Majerus. "But, believe me, I'm not someone unfamiliar with Krispy Kreme and weight problems, and a weight problem that early in life is sometimes a problem."

Curry says he just cut bread out of his diet, and voila -- he became a specimen.

Curry says he knew the Bulls were interested when Jerry Krause kept showing up at his high school games in Chicago. And it got to the point it became his pregame ritual to find Jerry in the stands. "I'd be upset when he wasn't there," Curry says. "It made me wonder who he was watching that night."

Curry has met Shaq, too. He was working out in L.A. before the draft at the Lakers' facility, when O'Neal just sauntered up to say hello. "He knew who I was," Curry says. "That was kind of odd. I didn't think nobody knew me." Shaq then gave him his phone number.

Curry, no small fry himself, thinks Shaq is enormous. "He was probably only a little bit taller than me, but his body was like triple mine," he says. "I know I'm a big person, so that's amazing. It kind of makes me wonder how big I'll be in three, four years. Because I heard when Shaq first came to the NBA, he wasn't as big as he is now. So it makes me wonder if I put in the hard work, I could be just as huge."

Curry has a tattoo that says "Beast Among Men" ("Got it my junior year of high school"), and he's been infatuated with tattoos ever since. Two months ago, he had the NBA logo tattooed to the underside of his forearm -- and at the Long Beach summer league, he asked his hotel concierge to recommend a tattoo parlor so he could get a couple more.

Curry says he's been double-teamed basically every game his entire life.

And Chandler says he's been triple-teamed basically every game of his entire life.

Curry is afraid to chide the NBA summer league referees. "We never get any calls, man," Curry says. "I noticed that already, man. I mean, I've talked to someone, and he told me referees hate when rookies say something about a call. They say they never give you another call. Because they already think rookies don't respect anybody. So it's like double that. We're not only rookies, we're [from] high school."

Chandler, on the other hand, is already learning the refs' first names.

Curry thinks with the acquisitions of Charles Oakley and Eddie Robinson, he and Chandler won't be starting next year. "We ain't playing much," he says. "I'm gonna tell my friends not to come until halftime."

Chandler agrees.

Chandler wears a black headband almost wherever he goes, and eats dinner with it on sometimes.

Chandler prays over every meal.

They've never played a game of one-on-one, but they faced each other in high school, with Chandler's L.A. team winning a close game. "I guarded Tyson straight up, but they had to zone me," Curry says. "His whole team was guarding me. Plus, I was sick that game."

At the time they didn't like each other. But now, as they head into their rookie season, they have no choice but to adore each other. "Well, we were teenagers back then when our teams played," Currys says. "Um, actually, I guess we're still teenagers."

Exactly my point.

Tom Friend is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tom.friend@espnmag.com.