Smith Can Live Without Glory : Raiders: Penn State prepared the fullback for life out of the NFL limelight, clearing the way for Allen and Jackson.

You don’t line up in the same backfield with Marcus Allen or Bo Jackson and not learn how to blend in with the scenery, yet fullback Steve Smith was well-trained in the art long before he joined the Raiders four years ago.

Smith attended Penn State, the university of black high-top sneakers and plain-wrap uniforms, a place where Coach Joe Paterno once took a high school tailback phenom named Steve Smith and turned him into John Doe.

At Penn State, Smith would be bombarded with the lexicon of “we” and “us.” Stars were something you studied in astronomy. In Paterno’s perfect world, football jerseys wouldn’t have numbers.

“Playing for Joe Paterno is like being in the army,” Smith said. “It’s very regimented and there’s not much room for individuality.”

Smith wanted to be as famous as the next guy, except the next guys at Penn State when he arrived were Curt Warner and D.J. Dozier. Smith kicked and screamed when Paterno moved him to fullback, only to thank the coach later when Smith cashed NFL paychecks and cleared the brush for headliners Jackson and Allen.

“We used to call it State Penn,” Smith said of his alma mater. “But it was great for me. (Paterno) told me there was a 12-inch difference between guys. Some guys you pound in the back, some guys you’ve got to go down and kick in the butt. He said ‘You’re one of the those kick-in-the-butt guys.’ He was what I needed.”

Smith went on to start on Penn State’s national championship team in 1986, learning to become a selfless cog in a greater wheel of success.

So what better training for his current assignment, where he is asked to give up blood for two former Heisman Trophy winners?

In Monday night’s victory over the Miami Dolphins, Jackson gained 99 yards. Allen scored the Raiders’ only touchdown. Smith received three stitches over his right eye.

“Blood’s part of the game,” he said.

Especially his game.

As Smith speaks of his role, you imagine Paterno peering over his shoulder, mouthing the words.

“A fullback has to understand exactly what his job is on the team,” he said. “I don’t think any position is unimportant on a football team. Some positions are more glamorous. We have two of the greatest tailbacks probably ever to play the game, but if the rest of us go out there and do nothing, then they’re not going to do a thing.”

Smith has learned to love his job, even with its shortcomings. The hours are nice, the pain intense. Smith is the first man through the hole on those famous tailback highlight runs. Sometimes it takes until the following Saturday to work the kinks out of Smith’s body.

“I really get it in the sides of my neck,” he said as he rubbed out some pain. “It’s from ramming people with my head when I block. Some blocks you can use your shoulders, but not many of them. On 10 or 20 you can do that. That makes it a lot easier. When you have to hit somebody with your head, repeatedly, time and time again, you see stars and get dinged.”

Smith is lucky to remembers his greatest hits.

Monday night, he received a gash over his right eye on the first series. He didn’t know it until he saw blood dripping from his head when he leaned over in the huddle. Smith left, had three stitches, then returned to throw the lead block on Allen’s two-yard scoring run in the second quarter.

Smith knows that few outside the coaching staff remember his contribution to the play, yet these are his shining moments.

“I blocked the backer, (Cliff) Odom,” he said. “I just took him, hit him, and he went backward, then he turned his back on me. I grabbed him and I ran him right out of the hole. I loved that. After I came off, my feet were heavy and my head was light. But it was fun.”

Smith doesn’t rate his performances based on his production, although he has been an effective runner when called upon this season, having rushed for 214 yards in 57 carries. Rather, he rates his need for pain relief. His game is measure in terms of dizziness and blackouts. If he remembers nothing, he usually gets a game ball.

“I feel good about my perform ance if I make some blocks to spring Marcus or Bo,” he said. “It’s a great feeling for me. It helps me feel like I helped them get there.”

Smith considers getting to run the ball a few times a game both a bonus and a shock to his system.

“It’s like night and day,” he explained. “When you’re a fullback and a designated blocker, you have to develop a mentality of not trying to get away from people. You’re trying to get them, to make contact with people. When you’re a runner, I’m not trying to get them. It’s a fine line. You have to be able to flip a coin, like ‘I’m not like this anymore.’ It’s very difficult. You have to have two separate mentalities.”