DAVIS: HE TRIES HARDER; THANKS TO HIM, DENVER IS ON THE RUN.

Byline: Eric Noland Daily News Staff Writer

It is said a man's experiences in life shape his nature.

That's probably why there is so little congruence between Terrell Davis and his chosen profession.

NFL running backs - particularly those achieving his stature - are often flashy sorts, on and off the field. They have egos that often can't fit into a Riddell helmet. They enjoy lavish lifestyles. And they seem truly in their element on the field when they can bust three or four moves and make a dramatic dash into the open.

Davis, the Denver Broncos tailback who is one of his team's best hopes for an upset over the Green Bay Packers in Sunday's Super Bowl, is none of these things. Probably because he's spent so much time at the other end of the spectrum.

His path to the NFL was not a gilded one. And now that he's established himself as one of the league's finest young backs, he's clearly uncomfortable when people suddenly expect him to act the part.

``I always look at it, `Well, three years ago, who was I? I was just a regular Joe, right?' I'd already developed into the type of person I was going to be for life,'' Davis said. ``You can't teach an old dog new tricks. So this is fairly new to me. Had I been a person who was a blue-chip high school player, had I been a player who was, like, all-(Southeastern Conference) or stuff like that, maybe I would see myself in a different light.''

Instead, he is as unassuming as his running style - which disdains the fancy footwork for some of the hardest, straight-ahead havoc you'll see this side of the NFC.

Late bloomers are not uncommon in athletics. But rarely do you find a guy who was a nobody in high school and college before soaring to prominence in the NFL. That is Davis.

At Lincoln High in San Diego - the alma mater of Marcus Allen - he played nose guard on defense and some fullback.

His best college opportunity was Long Beach State, a program then in its death throes. He played halfback, mostly as a tackling dummy on the scout team, before the school dropped football.

Davis transferred to Georgia, where he spent his first year watching Garrison Hearst carry the ball and his next two with ice packs on various parts of his body, as observers grumbled about his proneness to injury.

Not until he slipped into the NFL as an afterthought - a sixth-round draft pick in 1995 - did this guy finally begin to hit stride. And what a long, powerful stride it has been.

``He's taken a bunch of heat off of me, that's for sure,'' said Broncos quarterback John Elway. ``He's a great running back, and people have to worry about stopping that running game. When they do that, and you get eight-man fronts, it makes it that much easier to throw the ball.''

It figures to be a key element in Denver's upset bid Sunday. But this guy doesn't seem the least bit cowed by the responsibility.

Davis was selected to start in the Pro Bowl this season after rushing for 1,750 yards, a figure which ranked second in the NFL to the 2,053 of Detroit's Barry Sanders. The output also continued the steady, upward progression that has marked Davis' career: 1,117 yards as a rookie in '95, 1,538 last year.

In sharp contrast to Sanders - and many of the other marquee backs in the league - most of the yards were of the headache variety.

``I'm not a flashy guy,'' said Broncos running backs coach Bobby Turner. ``I don't like those type of guys. Our line coach (Alex Gibbs) and offensive coordinator (Gary Kubiak) and I, we all feel the same thing: We want tough yards.''

Davis admits that as his obscurity in recent years molded his personality, his football experiences shaped his style as a ball carrier.

He attended a high school at which Allen had been a game-breaking quarterback before winning a Heisman Trophy and a Super Bowl MVP award as a tailback. Allen, Davis said, was a folk hero of such stature in San Diego that ``it wasn't even Lincoln. `Where're you going (to school), Marcus Allen?' `Yeah.' Marcus Allen High.''

But Davis didn't entertain such aspirations. ``My mentality, the position I wanted to play, was defensive lineman,'' he said. ``But, obviously, as I grew up, I don't think my body kept up with my dream. I stayed at 195 pounds. I'm 5-11. What kind of lineman is that? I held on as long as I could in high school, and after that I had to let it go.''

When he first began to cradle a handoff at Long Beach, a mentality remained. ``That's probably what's helping me out right now,'' Davis said. ``Linemen have that grungy look. They have an attitude of just go in there and knock the other person out. They like contact. I think that's the kind of attitude and toughness that I have.''

Davis' mental toughness was developed at Georgia. He gained a reputation for being hurt all the time, and he felt he ran afoul of the coaching staff - for one game in which he wasn't suited up, he wasn't even given a sideline pass to stand with the team. His senior year, he was given the ball all of 97 times, gaining a quiet 445 yards.

How has he managed to be so much more durable in the NFL? This season, for example, he missed only one game to a separated shoulder. ``Unsolved mysteries,'' Davis said. But then he solved it: Denver's coaches conduct practice at a measured pace, whereas at Georgia, the players were full speed in pads all through the week, so wounds never healed.

The internal welts, the real and perceived slights, have long since eased. And Davis feels he is the better for the process.

``I had the opportunity to look at the other side,'' he said. ``I know how it feels not to be a star player, to be a person stepped on in life who never really had that superstar status in high school or college. I know how it feels to have people writing about you every day in the press, saying, `Georgia doesn't have a running game.' `They need new running backs.' `Terrell Davis is always hurt.' I heard everything.''

Now he mostly hears praise, although it doesn't seem to swell his head any.

``Like all great backs, the more you give him the ball, the better he gets. He's strong and persistent,'' said Green Bay defensive coordinator Fritz Shurmur.

Persistent? Well, he's certainly gotten a lot of practice at that.

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos, Chart

Photo: (1--Color) no caption (Terrell Davis)

Associated Press

(2--Color) no caption (Terrell Davis)

Chart: (Color) FORWARD PROGRESS