NASHVILLE -- During a visit earlier this month to the St. Thomas Hospital here, where Steve McNair frequently goes to meet with some of the younger surgical patients, the Tennessee Titans quarterback was comforting a little girl when she answered his question with one of her own.

"No, how do you, feel, sir?" she queried.

	Steve McNair battled injuries all year yet threw for 22 TDs and 3,387 yards.

It was, for sure, one of those out-of-the-mouths-of-babes snippets which far better capture the moment than any words offered by the greatest orator ever could. It was a question so chock full of poignancy and care and innocence, that it impacted McNair more than a blindside blitz. It was also a question completely appropriate, given McNair's noticeable limp as he walked down the hospital corridors, and his grimace as he lifted youngsters onto his lap.

So, how does Steve McNair feel, what with the terminal case of turf toe, a sore shoulder and a painful chest injury? Well, if one can ignore a mummy's worth of athletic tape in which he encases himself every week, the painkiller injections he has taken almost every Sunday over much of this 2002 season, the saline IV's at halftime of at least three contests, and the fact that his body is one, big cumulative welt, not too bad, actually.

"I'm making it through and that's all that matters," said McNair, after the Titans' impressive Monday night victory over the New England Patriots just two weeks ago. "As long as I can keep going out there and not hurting us, I plan to keep doing it."

And as long as the eight-year veteran can keep hobbling out onto the field, a Titans team that has now won nine of its last 10 games and figures to have a bye and possibly home-field advantage throughout the postseason, remains a viable Super Bowl threat.

For nearly a month, McNair hasn't gone through a full-scale practice, but he continues to go through opposition defenses with skill and precision. It's as if the longer his medical chart gets, the longer the Titans winning skein grows, McNair's lack of snaps during the week hardly hinder him on weekends.

Time was when it might not have much mattered if Tennessee had McNair or veteran backup Neil O'Donnell in the lineup, because this was designed to be tailback Eddie George's team, in application and in propriety. But the star tailback, his skills eroded by toe surgery after the 2000 season and by the kind of slippage that accompanies too many 300-carry campaigns, is but an ordinary runner at this juncture of his career.

In a quiet but symbolic passing of the leadership baton, the Titans have now become McNair's team, and he is finally garnering the attention that he long deserved. OK, so McNair wasn't named to the AFC Pro Bowl squad, and that injustice was exacerbated by the fact he finished a miserable 10th among conference quarterbacks in the fan voting.

But even the knucklehead players around the league, who also somehow ignored the role he has played in resurrecting a franchise which opened the season 1-4, are rallying around him. And, yeah, the very first of the so-called "new wave" quarterbacks, a guy seemingly buried by flashier players such as Donovan McNabb, Michael Vick and Chad Pennington, among others, is being viewed again as more than ordinary.

Both in his own locker room and around the league.

Not even when he marshaled the Titans to the Super Bowl matchup with the St. Louis Rams in 1998 did McNair command the respect he's getting on a regular basis these days. Certainly the team reflects his personality, a club that flew under the radar for much of the season, and is suddenly one of the biggest blips on the screen.

"For us, he's kind of like Superman," said Titans center Gennaro DiNapoli. "When we're in a bad play, he gets us out of it, more often than not. When we need a play, he makes it, OK? Maybe when you look at the (statistics), his numbers aren't the prettiest. But when we walk off the field, it's usually with a win, and it's usually because of him."

Ironically, in that regard, the first of the "new wave" quarterbacks is more an Old School kind of persona. Just an unassuming man from Mount Olive, Miss., a guy who still stays in contact with many of the fraternity brothers from the Omega Psi Phi chapter at Alcorn State, an almost bashful McNair is more preoccupied with the Titans' record than breaking records himself.

Notable, though, is that McNair, the team's first selection in the '95 draft, has established career bests for completions (293) and touchdown passes (22) with one more game to play. He will exceed his personal best for passes attempted and yards and will also top his cumulative passer rating. For a fifth time in six seasons as the starter, McNair has rushed for over 400 yards.

The problem for McNair, if it can be called such, is that he does so with such an inherent efficiency that he is often overlooked. Fact is, McNair is not the most supremely talented player at the game's most critical position. But he is the consummate warrior, a guy who will play hurt, and a player who wins and subjugates his own abilities to do so.

	“	For us, he's kind of like Superman. When we're in a bad play, he gets us out of it, more often than not. When we need a play, he makes it, OK? Maybe when you look at the (statistics), his numbers aren't the prettiest. But when we walk off the field, it's usually with a win, and it's usually because of him. ”
		— Gennaro DiNapoli, Titans center

It has taken the current Tennessee hot streak to finally raise McNair to some degree of national prominence. Even now, one gets the impression that he is less than comfortable in the spotlight and would rather continue functioning as the prototypical "complementary type" quarterback.

For years, in fact, that was a notable McNair shortcoming. Because of his upbringing, a kid raised to believe that the coach was always right and that a player should never criticize or suggest, McNair simply accepted the tight constraints imposed on him by past offensive coordinators. The nickname "Air McNair" became a misnomer, in part because McNair wasn't allowed to wing it, and because he never chafed at the limited game plan.

There is an unsubtle humbleness to McNair that is perceived by many as a kind of innate backwardness. The guy is hardly non-cerebral, though, and he possesses better football instincts than some players at the position to get a lot more press. On the plus side, that has started to change, and the respect McNair drew in his own locker room is becoming a leaguewide element.

"It used to be that you viewed him just as a guy who might make two, or maybe three plays a game, but you didn't think he'd beat you by himself," acknowledged Cincinnati linebacker Takeo Spikes.

But current coordinator Mike Heimerdinger expanded McNair's role when he arrived two years ago and has gone even further this season. There are still games where McNair will throw just 20 passes, or finish with fewer than 200 passing yards, but his options are significantly broader now and he has taken on more responsibility in the game-planning process.

The other thing he has done is learn to put poor plays behind him. There was a time, actually not too long ago, when McNair would brood over a bad play call or an interception. "Now I've got some (selective) amnesia," he said.

There are rumblings that, despite the Pro Bowl snub, McNair will draw a bit of most valuable player consideration. Such rhetoric fails to impress him and the guy Heimerdinger refers to as "a grinder" isn't much given to hyperbole or hype anyway. Any personal accolades, he was taught long ago, should be shared with teammates anyway.

He obviously learned that lesson well.

Forty minutes after having dispatched the Patriots, as Monday night turned into early Tuesday morning and he peeled away the tape and bandages and revealed a body purple with welts, a reporter asked McNair the same thing the little girl at Saint Thomas Hospital had.

McNair smiled and pointed to the score, 24-7, on the stat book that lay near his locker stall.

"We won, right?" McNair said. "So I feel fine. Just fine, thank you."

Len Pasquarelli is a senior writer for ESPN.com.