When Kelly Miller brings the ball up the floor, it’s with a kind of urgency usually reserved for burning orphanages or last call.
At work, Coco Miller is incapable of nonsense. She shows up for an Atlanta Dream practice with engine revving, gets in her work with unblinking focus, and gets out with the last whistle tweet still echoing in the gym rafters.
Kelly has the body fat of a celery stalk and the kind of muscle definition that only comes with an iron-rich regimen.
Coco can cook up a storm and is a reality TV show junkie who’s quiet, reserved, a little shy.
Now substitute the name Kelly for Coco and Coco for Kelly because the story of the Dream’s two newest players is one of interchangeable parts, an efficient tale in which every adjective serves a dual purpose.
Theirs is a relationship that celebrates similarity. It is one that willingly sacrifices that most modern sports imperative — individuality — for a sisterly connection that runs almost unfathomably deep.
‘Dream come true’
The meaning of playing together again in the United States — a decade after the twins, now 31, left the Georgia Lady Bulldogs for the frontier of women’s professional basketball — scarcely can be conveyed by a few simple sentiments.
“I always hoped, one day, we would be able to play together again, and this [signing with the Dream as free agents] just kind of worked out well,” Kelly said.
“It’s wonderful. A dream come true for them. For them to be able to be together is just huge,” said their mother, Kathy Miller.
Already, Dream coach Marynell Meadors is scheming how to best exploit the laser printer likeness of the two. In jest, she said, “I told somebody, if one of them gets in foul trouble and we need that one in, we’re going to go in [the locker room] and change uniforms.”
Three games into the season, teammates are learning through trial and error how to tell a Coco from a Kelly (hint: Coco has slightly lighter tones to her hair). “I’ve called one by the other’s name a few times, especially when on the floor when things are moving quickly. But it’s getting easier to get it right,” said Alison Bales, the Dream’s 6-foot-7 center.
And fans are getting by as best they can.
“C’mon, Coco! C’mon, Coco!” one shrill voice cried out during last Sunday’s home-opening victory over Indiana.
“That’s Kelly!” answered another fan. Indeed, Kelly clocked 25 minutes, while Coco was the only active Dream player who got no playing time that night.
But in a way, Coco was on the floor even if the box score disagreed. “I love watching Kelly out there playing,” she said. “I know how much she can help this team.”
As if finishing her sister’s sentence, Kelly quickly spliced the thought: “We are our biggest supporters.”
Impact at Georgia
The Millers were a big deal in the late 1990s when they came to Athens — together, of course — from Rochester, Minn., the home of the Mayo Clinic.
(Yes, they are Minnesota twins. They are, in fact, part of a University of Minnesota twins study. Researchers, they say, have told them they are among the most similar in attitudes and taste and personality of any set of twins they have surveyed. )
Georgia fans were taken by the novelty of these two playing in stereo, Kelly the point guard and Coco the shooting guard, running at 100 mph, sometimes a little hyper-excited and over-emotional, but always entertaining.
Their story and their style drew more eyeballs to the women’s game. “Even now, we get girls on our Facebook, saying they watched us growing up. That’s nice to read,” Kelly said.
“They were a calling card for Georgia basketball,” said Lady Bulldogs coach Andy Landers.
“Two players,” the coach said, “who were wound up tight and ready to go and play hard as soon as they got here.”
At Georgia, the Millers both finished their pre-med biology majors in four years while playing basketball. They were in almost every class together and finished with GPAs that were only fractionally different.
So much were they a paired entry that, after helping Georgia to the Final Four their sophomore year, the Millers became the only tandem to win the Sullivan Award as the nation’s top amateur athlete.
Concluding their careers at Georgia — with a disheartening first-round loss to Missouri — meant facing separation for the first time and the prospect of playing on different teams. Kelly was drafted second overall by the Charlotte Sting; Coco ninth overall by the Washington Mystics.
They had been practically inseparable since the womb. The last of five children, they were considered miracles by Kathy, who was 42 when she had them.
If only to keep peace, their parents dressed them identically and bought them the same toys.
“You’d find something cute, you’d get two of them so they wouldn’t fight over it,” said their mother. To this day, the twins routinely share clothing.
Athletically, the two showed almost no signs of a sibling rivalry or a need to stand apart. When they played basketball against each other on the driveway hoop, they didn’t keep score.
The separation
Imagine how difficult it was to break that bond when they went into the WNBA. “They never said a lot about it,” said their mother, “but it had to be one of the most difficult times in their lives. I think that was very, very hard.”
“Just being apart from each other was tougher than the basketball part of it,” Coco said. “Every year, it got a little easier, but it was still tough.”
Women’s pro basketball is nearly a year-round endeavor, as players shift between seasons here and abroad to make a go of it financially. The sisters bought a place together in Arizona — installing a small basketball court with a UGA logo— that is more a base camp than it is home, given how infrequently either got to use it.
The Millers have played together in such exotic locales as China, Korea, Turkey and France.
During the late-March subway bombings in Moscow, they were riding on another line in the Russian capital.
The chance to play together in the U.S., just a few miles from their old college, was irresistible. Coco played for the Dream last season, but had become a free agent. Kelly, too, was a free agent. In March, they both signed two-year deals with the Dream.
They bring to the assignment a sense of completion, although neither is sure how much longer she will play.
“To finish our careers together. . .,” began Coco.
“Would be ideal,” finished Kelly.
Away from the court, the Miller twins give the impression of the most compatible roommates ever. They never arm wrestle for the remote at their Atlantic Station rental, saying they pretty much like all the same shows. They split the cooking and cleaning chores evenly. They even agree on a favorite restaurant in town (Antico Pizza Napoletana).
Only when asked for differences do the answers come more haltingly.
“Not sure,” Coco said. “We get asked that a lot, and it’s always hard to come up with something.
“Kelly likes red; I like blue, I guess.”
On the court, even if they are not playing at the same time or for the same amount of time, history suggests they have a good chance of flourishing in each other’s company.
“I think they’ll have more confidence [together],” Meadors said. “I think they’ll have more security with each other.”
After all, 1 plus 1 equals 1 in the imperfect math of the perfectly matched twins.



