"Act like you belong." I think about that phrase whenever the NFL draft arrives. Coaches use it to goad nervous, late-round draft picks who are unsure of their chances in the league. But defensive tackle Tony Siragusa didn't need any such inspiration.

Draft day 1990 came and went without Siragusa receiving a phone call. So when my team, the Indianapolis Colts, signed him to a free agent contract, the scene was set for him to become one of those (not so little) engines that could. To most of the Indianapolis pundits, Siragusa's supposed rags-to-riches storyline was a lot more compelling than the truth. He was probably the best tackle in that draft, but a knee injury that forced him to miss his entire sophomore season at Pitt dropped Siragusa from first-rounder to "project."

But Goose never acted like it.

I remember watching Siragusa during our first training camp that summer. After one practice, he drove a golf cart into the middle of the training room and parked it. When Hunter Smith, the Colts head trainer, demanded he move it, Siragusa looked at him with amused indignance. "What?" he asked. "I can't park here?"

In addition to being a fun-loving wiseass, Siragusa had an unmistakable confidence that endeared him to his teammates. It was that self-assuredness that media people consistently refer to as "attitude". He never saw himself as some undrafted free agent rescued from the scrap heap, lucky to get invited to camp. He knew he was the best defensive tackle in his class and he carried himself as such. And he didn't need a coach's prodding.

I remember reading the paper and hearing newscasters talk about the "surprising success" of undrafted Tony Siragusa. It was always that faint praise colored by a condescending tone. You know, those compliments like: "That's a pretty good play ... for a fat scrub," or "She's pretty smart ... for a woman with a great body," or "Hey, that's pretty good writing ... for an ex-football player."

I saw Goose right after the Ravens beat the Raiders in last season's AFC title game. He hugged me and said, "Hey, come see me down in Tampa." Eleven years after he entered the league as a project, Siragusa was on his way to the Super Bowl. He seemed pleased, but not overwhelmed.

He acted like he belonged there.

Alan Grant, a former NFL defensive back, writes football for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at alan.grant@espnmag.com.