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For almost the entirety of former New Jersey Sen. Bill Bradley's political career, he was that little girl. No matter how much the crowd rooted for him, his podium performances, at least, inevitably disappointed. His keynote speech at the 1992 Democratic National Convention in New York's Madison Square Garden was more of an air ball than anything he ever lobbed in the same arena during his 10 years as a New York Knick.

His performance that night was the nadir of his life as a public speaker. His continued reference to then-President George Bush as having "wiggled and waffled and wavered" was lame and uninspired; his delivery was crippled by the distractions of unruly Jerry Brown delegates and, more importantly, his wife's recent breast cancer diagnosis. (She has since recovered.) The speech was so bad, in fact, pundits all but stopped bandying about his name as a prospective presidential candidate -- having forgotten, perhaps, about the sleep-inducing stemwinder Gov. Bill Clinton gave in 1988. When Bradley retired from the Senate in 1996 to lecture, teach and write a coffee-table book called "Values of the Game," he seemed to be riding off into the sunset, off to that land where former senators go to earn boffo bucks and escape reporters and constituents forever.

That's how it seemed, anyway, until last December, when Bradley charged back from the horizon to emerge as the only Democrat willing to challenge Vice President Al Gore for the 2000 nomination.

The fact that Bradley has chosen this as the year for his candidacy -- as opposed to '88 or '92, when the nomination was far more up for grabs -- makes perfect sense, given his quirky academic's personality and his love of the quixotic cause. Previous election-year opportunities just weren't his moment, he explains. He looked in the mirror and felt that it just wasn't the right time. Now, he says, "I'm on top of my game."

He might be right. On the crisp April weekend I watched him work New Hampshire -- from the state Democratic convention in Manchester to a county party fund-raiser in Keene to a Q&A with Dartmouth students in Hanover -- Bradley proved more warm, accessible and charismatic than ever before seemed possible. At his speech on race in New York on Tuesday, he was bold and sincere, and said things that few politicians even seem to think about, much less communicate.

Far from the elitist fumblings of previous gigs, Bradley's speeches and off-the-cuff chitchat now win converts one by one.

"Up until now I was a Gore supporter," says Jean Fahey, a teacher and registered Democrat leaving a Bradley appearance at a Claremont Dunkin' Donuts on Sunday morning. "Now I have to think about it."

Bradley says that his newfound voice is partly due to a busy lecture circuit schedule since his Senate retirement. "I've spent the last three years 'working the small clubs,' as Bruce Springsteen used to say," he explains in an interview. "The microphone is now kind of a friend, instead of a spotlight in your eye."

"His speaking has gotten a lot better," says New Hampshire Senate President Clesson "Junie" Blaisdell, whom the Keene dinner honored, and who has yet to endorse either Bradley or Gore. "I thought he did a very good job ... He related to that crowd. They seemed to receive him very well."

But Bradley's comfort in front of a mike isn't only due to practice, he says. "I feel at peace with myself, and I realize that's the key to communication." He refers to a section in his bestselling memoir "Time Present, Time Past," when various speech coaches offered prescriptions for his soporific oratory, ranging from "Raise your cheeks" to "Stand straight but not stiff" to "Don't hold your hands like that" to "Above all, be natural."

Not surprisingly, that kind of advice didn't help. Then Bradley realized speaking is not unlike "shooting a basketball. The mechanisms are down but you've still got to be able to think. One of the key things is keeping yourself open enough to respond spontaneously to things, and not be locked in so much that you're going to follow some script no matter what happens. A lot of times, thing pop up that are enormous opportunities if you access your humanity or your sense of humor."

His backers, of course, love Bradley's newly accessed humanity and sense of humor. (So do academics and journalists.) His most prominent New Hampshire supporter, failed Senate candidate John Rauh, puts it this way: "Bill Bradley brings not only tremendous intellect to the race, but he's a very introspective public servant. He cares deeply. And he's extremely mature. We respect Al Gore ... But it's an important time and we think we have the opportunity here to elect a very unique individual. We find him very in touch with himself."

In touch with himself or not, Bradley must now face the toughest opponent of his career in Gore, who has been running for president almost since birth, more or less officially so since November 1992. The Gore 2000 infrastructure in New Hampshire and throughout the land is solid; his campaign checks are flowing in; he flies in on Air Force Two. The vice president is seen as so tough to beat, he's scared away all other potential challengers but Bradley: Nebraska Sen. Bob Kerrey, Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry, House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt and Jesse Jackson have all remained on the bench.

"I am smaller than the Chicago forward I play against so I try to overplay him," Bradley wrote in "Life on the Run," his 1976 memoir of life as a New York Knick. "He takes me low, near the basket, and simply shoots over me. I draw three quick fouls. I also miss four open jump shots. [Knicks coach Red] Holzman replaces me."

Bradley is hoping for a better outcome against an even bigger player this time around. And while he's clearly the underdog, it's almost a full year until primary season, and a lot can happen. Bradley has raised $4.5 million, far more than many political observers thought he could, and the front-loaded primary system means that a critically timed misstep by Gore could be fatal. The New Jersey Democrat raised more than $1 million in San Francisco last week alone, at a political star-studded gala that included Republicans and Democrats. A sudden bad break for Gore could suddenly, and decisively, throw momentum Bradley's way. "I'm bullish on Bradley. I think he has more of a chance to upset Gore than people think," says William Kristol of the conservative Weekly Standard.

"We have no earthly idea what the next election's going to be about," says Charlie Cook, editor of the Cook Political Report. "Not a clue. Is it going to be about Kosovo and the war? About the economy? Or about nothing in particular? We just don't know, and it adds just another layer of uncertainty."

Bradley is counting on that uncertainty to throw a few breaks his way.

Next page | "Look what happened to your father"