Linemen Do More Than Simply Put Up a Good Front : High schools: Most coaches agree--offensive linemen are the building blockers of a successful program.

We get to throw no balls, catch no balls, run no balls. We have to work together on every play so the other players can throw those balls, catch those balls, run those balls . . .

--Dennis Harrah, offensive lineman, as told to NFL Films

Dennis Harrah, the five-time All-Pro guard with the Rams, had it right: An offensive lineman doesn’t handle a football, but that doesn’t make him any less a ballplayer.

Offensive linemen are the backbone of every football team. Many coaches say they have more to do with the success of a team than the quarterback.

They don’t score touchdowns. They rarely get credit for clearing a path for the running backs who score touchdowns.

And offensive linemen have long been considered oddball characters who don’t have much on the ball--so they aren’t allowed to touch the ball.

In most cases, however, nothing could be further from the truth.

Torrey Pines High, which might have the best line in San Diego County, let its left guard run the ball once in Friday’s game against Rancho Buena Vista. He scored the winning touchdown in the Falcons’ 9-7 upset victory over the No. 7 Longhorns.

“We were so stoked,” said left tackle Matt Roe of teammate Brian Batson’s nine-yard scoring run on the “fumblerooski” play. “He did such a good job selling the play. He could have gone 150 yards.”

“The way our line was playing, I don’t think we needed the fumblerooski to score the touchdown,” Falcon line coach Eric Heffner said. “But (head coach) Ed Burke called the play and it was nice that a lineman got to score.”

Heffner, 36, who played guard at Utah, has a soft spot for offensive linemen, the unsung heroes of football. He likens their behind-the-scenes contributions to that of motion picture producers and directors. Producers and directors, however, get lots of press, receive Oscars, make millions and never have sod stuck to their face masks.

“I love these kids,” Heffner said. “They’re my guys.”

“They’re journeymen . . . hard-working people,” said Coach Dick Haines of No. 1 Vista, a team that is 7-0 and features a young, talented front. “I was an old blocking back, which was nothing more than a guard with his brains beat out.”

A lineman’s passion is private, his achievements anonymous. His joys and triumphs are shared by few. His shortcomings are punctuated by penalty flags and quarterback sacks.

“There’s just not much for them; it really is a forgotten position,” said San Diego High Coach Art Anderson, whose linemen have played a big part in the Cavers’ 6-0-1 season. “You’ve just got to talk to them and tell them this is the way it is.”

A lineman’s world is obscure to anyone who has never lived in the trenches. They hover together like soldiers on enemy land. They dine together, double date and grow as brothers.

“They’re very close,” said USDHS Coach Ron Hamamoto, whose Dons are 7-0 and average 31.2 points a game with a line that’s played together for four years. “They hang out together on campus. That’s why we’re so good this year.”

These are the tough guys, the big boys with big hearts who pound on every play and sacrifice their bodies for the sake of the team.

“I was sure proud to be a lineman, especially when we scored or if our ground attack got over 200 yards rushing,” said Anderson, who played offensive tackle for the Chicago Bears and Pittsburgh Steelers in the 1960s.

“It’s not all that fun sometimes,” said Steve Balelo, USDHS’s 6-foot-3, 240-pound left tackle. “We don’t get any glory, but it feels good at the end of the game knowing you beat a guy one-on-one.”

But perhaps no football player experiences the thrill of triumph or despair of defeat quite as richly.

“My biggest reward is when the running back gets into the secondary untouched,” said Grossmont’s Ken Loncar, a 6-6, 275-pound left tackle for a 7-0 team. “I love to see those chains move down field, bam, bam, bam. That’s good enough for me.”

“Most offensive linemen have a tremendous sense of pride and they become very attached to each other,” said Coach John Shacklett of 5-2 Morse, where Danny Williams (6-5, 235) and Darius Benford (6-7, 285) have led the way for the county’s top-ranked offense and leading rusher, Gary Taylor (1,252 yards). “Our best teams have always had that very strong cohesive offensive line.”

And some good linemen have been secretly in charge of every successful team this year.

Vista has risen back to power behind Lee Carr (6-5, 235), Matt Stone (6-4, 228) and Shawn Bostwick (6-2, 185). USDHS, after a year’s absence, is a lock for the playoffs with Balelo, Dan Minton (6-1, 225), Ken Shook (5-10, 205), Bad Rossin (6-3, 230) and Keith Miles (6-4, 255) creating holes.

At La Jolla (7-0), E.J. Watson has rushed for 1,176 yards behind Arturo Garcia (5-11, 218) and Jose “Oso” Ojeda (6-2, 250). Running back Jason Eskridge spent much of the summer jogging through La Mesa with his Grossmont linemen, who were nicknamed “The Clydesdales:” Loncar, Aaron Bolin (6-3, 225), Bryan Hewitt (6-1, 245), Marc Gallo (6-1, 210) and Jason Palmer (6-5, 250).

With the Clydesdales leading the way, Eskridge has rushed for 1,186 yards and 17 touchdowns.

Caver guards Danny Mendoza (5-10, 195 but listed at 245) and Eddie Blea (5-9, 200, listed at 223) are actually smaller than the team roster indicates. But they’ve certainly appeared that big as San Diego has staged a dramatic turnaround from a 2-8 season.

It should come as no surprise that Torrey Pines (6-1) is tied with Vista for the Palomar League lead. With Andy Hauser (6-6, 260) and identical twins Matt and Mark Roe (6-5, 260), Heffner said he has three players with NFL potential.

Could offensive line, with its physical demands and dearth of rewards, be the toughest job in sports? Mike Poff, in his book “Coaches’ Guide to Offensive Line Fundamentals and Techniques” said the prototype lineman these days must have quickness, explosiveness, balance, quick feet, strength and weight.

A lineman, above all, must be an unselfish creature. But he also has to be disciplined, confident, intense, tough and mean. Poff forgot to list intelligent.

They must learn gaps and angles, drive blocks, cutoff blocks, downfield blocks, traps, folds, bumps, wedges, horns and scrapes. They’ve got to memorize cadences and execute post leads and interference leads.

“I think it’s the most difficult position on the field of play,” La Jolla Coach Dick Huddleston said. “They have make split-second decisions and they can’t use their hands. They might go against one defense all week in practice and see an entirely different one in the ballgame.”

Linemen don’t mind playing with twisted knees, sprained ankles and bruised thighs. You see them with bandaged fingers and bloody elbows. Two weeks ago, University City tackle Mark Schweller (6-4, 255) broke his thumb against Kearny. Before Friday’s game with USDHS, line coach John Hutsel said Schweller--told by his doctor he couldn’t play for four weeks--was looking for a hacksaw to cut off his cast.

Loncar and the Roes, like most linemen, consider pumping iron a religion, and they can’t deny their attraction to macho things. Loncar writes psychedelic poetry, drives a hot-rod truck and listens to hard rock and heavy metal. The Roes have longed to get tattoos. Matt Roe’s favorite movie is “The Terminator.”

Balelo would rather be surfing with his longtime buddy Shook, where the locals at Sunset Cliffs have razzed the two hulks for sinking their boards. Balelo would like to pursue sports medicine. Loncar wants to be a sports writer. Mark Roe has considered architecture; brother Matt has looked at medicine.

Balelo is the only one of the four with a girlfriend. The others don’t want a relationship to interfere with football. But it’s not as though they don’t get dates.

“Oh, no. Hey, I think we’re pretty popular . . .” Mark Roe said.

All four list eating as their favorite leisure activity. The Roes consume 6,500 calories daily, and, like the others, love Italian food. Balelo and his linemates have consumed legendary amounts of pizza during Thursday night gatherings at Round Table. And Loncar, who snacks constantly, likes his mother’s mostaccioli.

“Give me a few carne asada burritos from Alberto’s after the game and I’ll be a happy boy,” Loncar said.

Said Mark Roe, “In our family, it’s basically grazing. We graze all day.”

All four love pancakes--not the food, but the block. A pancake occurs when a lineman topples a defender then lays on top of him.

“It’s just a great feeling when you fall on the guy and hear that ‘oomph,’ and you see the back’s gone through the hole,” Mark Roe said. “You really know you’ve done your job.”