Getting their nose dirty: a nose tackle is a human shock absorber. He gets pounded on every play and hammered from every angle. It's a high-pain, no-glory job—and essential to the success of the 3-4 defense

The Texans are in a 4-3, with Payne and Jerry Deloach as the tackles and rookie linebacker Jason Babin lined up at left end across from the tight end. At the snap, the Raiders' linemen move to their left, making it look like the play is going to be a run to the out side. This is called influence blocking. They are hoping to draw Payne and Deloach with them and seal them off while Zereoue cuts the other way. "Jerry and I both do a good job of reading that, and we end up making the tackle with Babin, who beats the tight end's block and crashes down. That was a good group play by the defensive line."

Third-and-11, after a Raiders false-start penalty, at the 14. Collins completes a 10-yard pass to tight end Doug Jolley, and the Raiders are forced to punt.

On third down, the Texans go into their nickel formation. Payne leaves the field and is replaced by a fifth defensive back. "Athletes stay on the field; Payne goes to get water," Payne says. Doesn't he consider himself all athlete? "I am, but it's a relative term," he says, laughing.

Playing in traffic

If the 1974 Patriots were trendsetters, Ray Hamilton was a pioneer. The Patriots, under coach Chuck Fairbanks, employed the 3-4 as their regular defense that season--the Houston Oilers also began using it that year--and Hamilton, a 14th-round draft pick in 1973, became one of the league's first pure nose tackles.

"Once we started playing it, most of the other teams kind of went to it full time. Now, it's more of a changeup type defense than a staple," says Hamilton, who is in his 18th season as an NFL assistant and his second year as the Jaguars' defensive line coach.

Thirty years ago, linemen on both sides were smaller. Centers weighed 265 to 270 pounds on average, and most nose tackles were short and stocky; Hamilton was 6-1, 250. But the concept of the position is the same today as it was back then.

"There's a lot of things happening in there really, really fast," says Hamilton. "It's like a real fast rush hour deal. You have to be quick with reactions and seeing things, have good hands and good eyes and be able to decipher what's going on pretty fast."

Nose tackles might be the most underappreciated players in football. Even their teammates don't give them proper respect. Fred Smerlas played 200 games during a 14-season career with the Bills (1979-89), 49ers (1990) and Patriots (1991-92). During his tenure with the Bills, he started 156 consecutive games and went to five Pro Bowls. But it wasn't until he left Buffalo as a free agent that he got a thank you call from linebacker Shane Conlan. "I never appreciated you until you were gone," said Conlan, "because no one hit me."

That's because opponents were banging on Smerlas, who might have crafted the quintessential description of how it feels to play nose tackle when he told Pro! magazine in 1983: "You see your life pass before your eyes about four times a game. The center hits you in the stomach, one guard gets you in the ribs, then the fullback drills you in the chest just as one of your own linebackers smacks you in the back. If you're mad at your kid, you can either raise him to be a nose tackle or send him out to play on the freeway. It's all about the same."