SUPER BOWL : Bills’ Strategy? Forget About It : Defense: Smith doesn’t think about two Super Bowl losses. Bennett thinks about his father, who suffered a stroke.

The memories do not come easily for defensive end Bruce Smith and linebacker Cornelius Bennett of the Buffalo Bills. In fact, you would be amazed how two consecutive Super Bowl losses and the danger of a third defeat can promote all the symptoms of amnesia.

From the mountain--in this case, Coach Marv Levy--the edict has been handed down: Forget 1991, the year Buffalo was beaten by the New York Giants by one point in Super Bowl XXV. Forget 1992, the year Buffalo was used as a dishrag by the Washington Redskins in their 37-24 victory in Super Bowl XXVI. Concentrate only on Sunday’s game against the Dallas Cowboys at the Rose Bowl.

So Smith and Bennett do what they can, which when they put their minds to it, can be considerable. Little by little, though, the truth squirts through the cracks.

For Smith, who has often been a minicam’s best friend, the self-imposed gag order is difficult to follow. But he tries, delivering calm, pleasant and perfectly boring responses to questions lobbed so high that he could hit each one a mile long if he were in the mood.

Instead: “This is the Super Bowl in 1993 and that’s the only thing we’re worried about,” he said.

Is this the same guy who strutted around Tampa two years ago proclaiming Giant linebacker Lawrence Taylor a has-been of sorts and adding that Smith had replaced him on the superstar depth chart? The same guy who suggested that in light of numerous pieces of racial hate mail he received a year ago, perhaps he should play elsewhere? The same guy who exercised his once-injured knee so hard in the off-season that he broke workout machines--all in the name of restoring his reputation to its rightful place?

It was and still is. That’s because even with the edict by Levy and a personal vow to keep a low profile this week, Smith can hide his feelings only so long. With him, mum is never the word.

Start with the 1991-92 season, when Smith went public with his personal battles against racism. That was also the season when he injured his left knee, forcing him to miss games and causing teammates to question his toughness.

“I won’t forget (last season),” he said. “Last year was a terrible year. But it was another learning experience for me. It helped me mature and that’s what I did: I learned from it.”

He learned by putting a governor switch on his emotions. Rather than lash back at his teammates, Smith tried to understand their feelings. Rather than withdraw, “It (hurt), it certainly did,” Smith said of his teammates’ doubts. “But that’s not an issue right now because I’m healthy and people are treating me very good now. I’m just tickled with that.”

He wasn’t laughing last summer when he was in the middle of a grueling rehabilitation program.

“I’d rather go over the deficit with President Clinton than go through what I went through this past off-season,” he said.

He returned healthy and stayed that way until he suffered cracked and bruised ribs. This time, he remained in the lineup, which did not go unnoticed by his teammates.

By season’s end, Smith had 14 sacks and the permanent respect of anyone who played with him or against him. Along the way, the Bills earned another trip to the Super Bowl and Smith earned another Pro Bowl selection, his fifth.

“Bruce Smith makes most of the difference,” said Buffalo defensive end Phil Hansen, who has eight sacks this season. “His presence, the aura around him, makes the (opposing) offenses structure their (game plan) around him. They have to account for him as not just another player, but as Bruce Smith.”

So good is Smith, Hansen finds himself in awe of the talent. Monday viewing sessions of the previous game are especially revealing.

“I’m his peer and I watch him on film and I don’t know how he gets from Point A to Point B sometimes,” Hansen said. “I just don’t know how he does it.”

Hansen has a theory. Scientific, it isn’t.

“We all want to win, but I know he wants to win,” Hansen said. “If he isn’t double-teamed on a pass rush, he gets mad.It’s a pride thing for him.”

Pride is also why Smith has played despite an assortment of injured ribs. Each game, he wears a protective plastic shell over his ribs, which helps redistribute the shock of each opponent’s hit. Offensive linemen, well aware of Smith’s nagging injury, have wasted little time going after the supposed physical weak spot.

“The strong shall survive,” Smith said. “Just as long as it’s a clean hit, I want them to knock the hell out of me.”

Bennett, who will join Smith on this season’s AFC Pro Bowl team, knows a little something about survival. On game days, he wears a cast on his thumb to help protect injured tendons. And most recently, a sore hamstring has forced him to miss practice and test his patience.

“To me, I would rather have a knee injury,” said Bennett, who promised that his fickle hamstring muscle won’t keep him from playing in Sunday’s game.

Bennett, like Smith, has learned from his two Super Bowl appearances. This year’s lesson: Ignore any topic or question relating to those painful defeats.

There are less important lessons, too. For example, Bennett is big on vanity. For Tuesday’s media day, he wore a baseball cap, not as a fashion statement but as a safeguard.

“I’m a little older, wiser and a little bit balder,” he said. “That’s why I’m wearing a hat. I don’t want my bald spot in the paper.”

Bennett can be forgiven for not being in the mood to discuss much of anything these days. On Jan. 4, a day after the Bills’ remarkable comeback against the Houston Oilers in an AFC playoff game, Bennett received a call from his mother.

The message was short and stunning: While sitting at the dining room table that day, Bennett’s 70-year-old father, Lino, said he could not get up from his chair. He had suffered a stroke.

Lino Bennett helped raised six children. He worked in a Birmingham, Ala., steel foundry for 32 years. It was hard, back-breaking work, but he never complained.

Cornelius Bennett remembers how the family would gather around the table every second Tuesday--payday--and watch his dad and mom divide a modest salary. Most would be set aside for food, clothes, bills. But a few dollars would go for Lino’s cigarettes and, as it was known in the Bennett house, “toddy money.”

The elder Bennett is better now. The aftereffects of the stroke have left him without full use of one of his legs and his speech remains somewhat slurred. But he’s alive and on the mend. Better yet, said his son, he’s here. The Bennett family arrived in Los Angeles on Thursday.

“He’s taking (the stroke) better than I’m taking it,” said Bennett, who loves to dote on his family, especially his mother and baby sister.

Bennett built a house for his parents and insisted that a maintenance worker be retained to care for the yard. His father would have none of that, so Bennett bought him a riding lawnmower.

With family nearby, Bennett is looking for one, maybe two more happy endings this week. If possible, Bennett would like his injured hamstring to be healed by kickoff. If not possible, he said he will be in the Bills’ starting lineup, nonetheless.

The second request involves a Super Bowl victory. Three consecutive losses would not be a charm. It would be a curse that Bennett, as well as Smith and the rest of the Bills, could do without.

Anyway, Bennett wants his memory back. After all, who wants to spend their careers trying to forget? Just once, Bennett and Smith would like to cherish a Super Bowl, not ignore it.