At least one woman really can have it all

KNOXVILLE, Tenn. -- Jump shot, fadeaway, soft touch? Got it.

Behind the back, between the legs, to the hoop? Got it.

Spin moves, step-backs, rebounds and soaring dunks? Got ‘em all, and more.

She is the most dominant player in college basketball. Yes, you read right -- she. As in Candace Parker, 21 years old, a 6-foot-4 athlete so superbly multidimensional that she is listed as a forward/center/guard for the University of Tennessee Lady Vols.

Paradoxically, though, college basketball, highlighted by a 2007 women’s player-of-the-year award and an NCAA championship, might be the high point of her athletic career. Here in Knoxville, she plays in front of sellout crowds. She is in magazines and on national TV, and people care. Wherever she goes, people turn, gape or walk up and wish her well.

Parker’s next step will be the pros, probably in Los Angeles, and life will be different.

The decade-old WNBA sputters along, hoping to find itself. An average game brings only 6,000 fans. There is a full TV schedule, but when was the last time you watched? Los Angeles has the two-time title-winning Sparks. Sad to say, but many people still think the Sparks are a minor league baseball team in Calgary.

There’s hope, thankfully. Over the last few years, women’s professional basketball has acquired a fresh wave of talent, bringing it to a higher level.

And soon will come the best -- and most marketable -- of the bunch: Parker, whose top-ranked Tennessee team will play UCLA on Wednesday at Pauley Pavilion. She is the kind of transcendent player who just might be able to change the fortunes of the Sparks -- and their league -- all at once.

Her coach, Pat Summitt, has won seven national titles. Some say Summitt is the greatest coach alive. When she talks, you believe. “Candace,” she said, “has the chance to be the greatest player in the women’s game -- ever. . . . She can end up changing the way we are perceived.”

In April, the Sparks will have the first pick in the WNBA draft. Parker, a junior, said that she’ll almost certainly head to the pro ranks when this college season ends. If she does, and if the Sparks fail to pick her, then they should be tossed from the league.

It’s simple, really. She’s a marvel; as fine an athlete at her age as you’ll see. Your eyes widen as you watch. Her game mirrors what you’ll find in the NBA: same technique, same liquid strut, same fine-tuned coordination.

She leads the Lady Volunteers in scoring and rebounding. She’d lead in assists if Summitt would let her play point guard.

Women’s basketball is played mostly at ground level. Not Parker’s game. She rises above the floor and can dunk with ease. Her airborne highlights play big on national TV and on the Internet.

There’s more.

Parker, from suburban Chicago, is charming. Almond eyes, smooth skin, regal. People magazine has put her on its most-beautiful list. Looks and charm matter more than they should in women’s sports, but that’s the reality.

And she gets it. She understands what it will take to turn the WNBA around. A winning product. And a marketing push, probably with her in a lead role.

“The way I see it, the WNBA now is like the NBA in the ‘70s,” she said. She spoke of how Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, through their skill, charisma and rivalry, gave birth to the NBA we know today. “That’s what I want to help do, help grow our game. . . . I think we can get a lot more people interested.

“I want to make it so if one day I have a daughter, she will end up having 10 times the opportunities I’ve had.”

There’s no need to market her in Knoxville. It has 175,000 people, nestled in the heart of east Tennessee, and it does women’s basketball better than any other place on Earth. It is a town crazed by college sports, and it has a football addiction. But Parker is as popular as any football player around.

Taxi drivers reel off her scoring average, dissect her jump shot and speak with pride of how she won Tennessee yet another title. Young boys walk proudly wearing her orange No. 3 jersey, with Lady Vols stretched across their chests. Thursday night, fans cheered wildly as she strode onto the floor at Thompson-Boling arena.

It was a midweek game. Final exams were over, and most of the students had gone home. Still, 12,500 seats were filled when Parker and the Lady Vols took the court for their game against unranked Middle Tennessee State.

It started badly. Three minutes off the clock, and her team was down, 11-3.

She sputtered. She missed a shot. And a few moments later an opponent drove past her to score two more points.

So it went for several minutes. Middle Tennessee, small and scrappy, swarmed Parker, sending sharp-elbowed defenders to tenderize her back. She missed an easy shot, and then missed again. Her brow furrowed as she talked to herself and punched the air.

A man next to me turned and said: “Bad luck. You just might be watching one of her worst performances ever.”

Inside, she burned. You could see it on her face. And the anger woke her.

Suddenly, I watched her swoop for a rebound, plucking the ball from the air with her right hand.

A defender swatted at it.

Parker held the ball aloft, tauntingly, then swung it to her hips in a wide, powerful arc.

Wilt would have smiled.

The next moment, she was a blur, dribbling down court like a point guard, zigzagging, eyes wide, head up. When she rose from the floor, it looked as if this would be a long scoop shot. Instead, she scorched a one-handed pass 20 feet to an open teammate.

Jumper. Got it.

Now she owned the game. She was everywhere, doing everything. More rebounds, more assists, more jukes and bolts to the hoop and soft jump shots. No other college basketball star, male or female, brings this many skills or means this much to a championship team. That’s dominance.

In the end, the Lady Vols won, 84-61, and Parker had tied a career high with 34 points. Walking off the court, she smiled.

She still had that smile the next day when she talked about the pros. What did she think it would be like to play in L.A.?

“Los Angeles? If that were to happen . . .”

A beat went by.

“I always dreamed of living in a place like that. I mean, all the things to do there. I’m a big movie person, so to just go to a movie premiere . . . the red carpet? And Kobe? I’ve never met Kobe. That’s like, wow.”

All at once, the WNBA’s best hope was just a college student and her future and its possibilities were open wide.

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Kurt Streeter can be reached at kurt.streeter@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Streeter, go to latimes.com/streeter.