GRANT'S GOT SHAQ'S BACK.

Byline: KAREN CROUSE

Everything Horace Grant knows about playing power forward, he learned in his mother's womb. His positioning even then was stellar; he maneuvered himself so he was the first to arrive into the world, preceding by 9 minutes his identical twin Harvey.

The stork couldn't have delivered a more felicitous addition to the Lakers' family than did Seattle in September. Someone who spent his first nine months fighting for space and subsistence in Grady Mae Grant's womb and struggled for most of his childhood to separate himself from his mirror image isn't likely to cower in the presence of Portland's rugged Cascades Range of a frontcourt or bristle at ceding the spotlight to Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant.

To be sure, 7-foot-3 Arvydas Sabonis, 6-11 Rasheed Wallace and Dale Davis and 6-10 Shawn Kemp form a cold, austere Mount Crushmore in the Western Conference. But as the Lakers open defense of their NBA title tonight at Portland, remember this: Grant has a knack for being first.

He won three NBA championships in Chicago and if last season's stint as a center for the SuperSonics wasn't so scintillating, well, that was predictable enough. Being in the middle of the spotlight doesn't suit Grant's personality.

When he beat Harvey into the world on July 4, 1965, Horace's destiny was determined. As the slightly bigger, slightly stronger twin, he accepted the role of his brother's tireless protector.

In games growing up, the twins were easy to tell apart; Harvey would put up shots from anywhere on the floor and Horace would be there to clean up all his misses.

If Horace wasn't flexing his muscles, you hardly noticed him. Harvey was the loud one. Everything about him - from his flashy clothes to his flashy offense - screamed, ``Look at me!'' He was the attention-seeking younger brother who eventually had to escape Horace's shadow in college so as to not be suffocated by it.

While they were in high school, Horace nicknamed Harvey ``Hollywood,'' never dreaming he'd be the one who'd wind up on Tinseltown's team.

Grant, 35, could have joined the Lakers when Del Harris did. Jerry West pursued Grant in the summer of 1994, but the unrestricted free agent spurned the Lakers for Orlando. His deal with the Magic was the Joe Smith contract of its day, containing a one-year escape clause the league found so nefarious it declared the agreement null and void.

When all was signed and done, Grant was playing for less in Orlando - $17 million over five years - than he could have commanded elsewhere. Grant didn't care. Orlando had the one big attraction other cities lacked.

The Magic had O'Neal, the NBA's Space Mountain.

``I did consider the Lakers back then,'' Grant said after a recent practice at the Staples Center. ``At the time, though, I really wanted to play with a dominant center.''

Elden Campbell wasn't going to lure Grant to L.A., no matter to what lengths West went to woo him. Grant played alongside O'Neal for two years in Orlando - making it as far as the NBA Finals in 1995 - before the center bolted for L.A.

Their reunion six years later in Mitch Kupchak's first major move as West's successor was, as Grant put it, ``like a dream come true again.''

He feels like he has come home, even though Grant is about as far from his childhood roots in rural Georgia as you can get and still be on the map while living in his high-rise condominium in Beverly Hills.

``I'm like the Beverly Hillbillies,'' Grant said, breaking into laughter as deep and rich as the soil in Sparta.

Like the Clampetts, Grant clings to his roots. He'd like to be seen as pretty much the same kid who grew up in rural Georgia, only the brother whose back he now has is named Shaquille.

``Shaq is a different player than he was in Orlando,'' Grant said, happy to brag on him. ``He has grown from a large adolescent into a man.''

Grant has lost a step or two since his Orlando days, but he works so hard you barely notice. The one thing he hasn't lost sight of is the role he was born to play.

``Being in the spotlight has never been important to me,'' Grant said. ``I love doing the dirty work. Anyone can score if the opportunity is there. But can anyone get down in the trenches, if you will?''

The answer was self-evident to anybody who watched the Lakers fall behind early in many a playoff game last year with aging A.C. Green starting at power forward.

Grant, a gentleman off the court, will make the Lakers meaner on it. He'll give them a swagger and if need be, a slap.

He'll stay on O'Neal the same way he did Harvey as a kid. Because Grant looks at O'Neal and sees great potential. He sees a leader in the fiery image of Grant's ex-Bulls teammate Michael Jordan.

``But you sort of have to wake Shaq up to get it out of him,'' Grant said.

Perfect. We can hear O'Neal's new nickname for Grant now. ``Big Ben'' has a nice ring to it.