Brian's song: I want a championship

MIAMI -- His eyeballs don't rage like blast-iron furnaces, which means he fails the Singletary test. He doesn't try to twist off body parts and draw blood from the head, which means he fails the Butkus test. For all Brian Urlacher has achieved in a career likely to end with a Canton induction speech, he remains burdened by the lineage of Chicago middle linebackers, often more a curse for him than a cause.

''How is it fair to be compared to Hall of Famers when I'm still playing?'' he said.

The problem: Spectacular as his work is, it's never quite enough. Such as when legendary Dick Butkus, who doesn't realize he's an original that can't be imitated, occasionally wonders why Urlacher isn't a barbaric beast instead of a video-game joystick. ''If he compares me to himself, there's no comparison. But it's a different game now than it was then,'' said Urlacher, ever the diplomat. ''I'm definitely not going to sound off back to him.''

But he did perform a linebacker-to-linebacker analysis. ''Butkus was mean. He was violent, and he could do whatever he wanted to on the field and get away with it,'' Urlacher said. ''Back then, you could do whatever you wanted to somebody and you didn't get fined, wouldn't get suspended. With Singletary, everyone always talks about the eyes and how focused he was, but he was pretty violent himself. He hit linemen, running backs, receivers, everybody. They were both really physical ballplayers.''

There is one way to elevate his legacy beyond reproach and maybe even separate himself from the prestigious pack. He can wake up Sunday, solve the Peyton Manning conundrum and win a Super Bowl for the Bears. Butkus never won an NFL title. Singletary won the big one, though with considerable support from the greatest of single-season defenses. Bill George won way back in '63. Imagine the historical impact if Urlacher, who has held together a defense through injuries and slumps, bedevils the Colts' offense with his speed and instincts, disrupts Manning long enough to matter, cuts through the smoke screen of the master's line-of-scrimmage trickery and forges an upset with an MVP performance.

Don't think anyone would call him overrated anymore.

''I want to win a championship. To tell you the truth, all of this other stuff -- the Defensive Player of the Year, overrated, underrated -- all that junk can go out the window. I want to win a championship,'' Urlacher said. ''That's why we're here, that's why we play the football games. We don't want to be here and lose.

''If I can get two or three championships, that would be great.''

To win one, he just might have to dominate Super Bowl XLI. The demands are that heavy on Urlacher, who is past the ''freak phenomenon'' phase of his early seasons and now positioned to prove he deserves his monstrous acclaim and hype. He has swallowed resentment from NFL peers who think he's overexposed and overrated because he's marketed as one of the league's few great-white-hope superstars. He has dealt with smirks about his brief Paris Hilton dalliance, which came during a year in which he played poorly. He has watched bitterly as his legal soap operas, including paternity issues and custody battles, are blasted across front pages. Through it all, he has remained one of the league's defensive pillars and most popular players, with his No. 54 jersey a staple not only at Soldier Field but in precincts everywhere.

Now, it's time for the small-town kid from New Mexico to top himself and become a champion. ''I've been around some great linebackers in my career, but he has it all,'' said his biggest fan, coach Lovie Smith. ''He's one of the best guys you can meet, one of the best superstars you'll ever be around. You can't find another player with more talent at 6-4, 225 pounds and 6 percent body fat. He's a perfect teammate. He knows the defense inside and out. He's a coach on the field. He was Defensive Player of the Year last year, and he's having a better season this season. He's a special player, the best in the league. Do you want me to stop?''

Actually, no. Because Urlacher sure won't talk about himself much. Reluctantly, like a man going in for a colonoscopy, he has trudged through the media grind this week, spewing answers in his robotic monotone while Manning flashes the charm of a thousand TV commercials. And when he has been quotable, you sense Butkus is out there cringing somewhere. People might assume Urlacher, the way he flies around the field, motivates himself by watching film of high-speed car crashes and munching on slabs of steel. Not true. As he does every Sunday morning, he will rise and shine before the biggest game of his life, turn on the tube and watch something definitely not associated with Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em linebacking.

''There is a saltwater fishing show on ESPN that I watch at 8,'' he said. ''Then, at 9, there's another one, and I watch that until I have to go to the stadium. This Sunday, I'll be able to watch the whole thing since it's late. When I go over to the stadium, I eat a couple of cookies, relax a little bit and listen to my headphones.''

What kind of cookies? ''Usually chocolate chip,'' he said. ''If someone gives me something else, I'll eat those too. I'm not really picky.''

Nor is Urlacher pasting pictures of Peyton on his hotel-room wall, vowing to take kill shots every play while snarling his every waking nanosecond. Truth be told, he's a fan of Manning's ad work. ''He's got the great commercials,'' Urlacher said. ''I think he does a good job with his acting. I like his stuff.''

Easy now, Mr. Butkus. You once were an actor, right?

The Urlacher debates would be largely settled with a Super Bowl win, whether it's Richard Dent criticizing Smith for not using him as a blitz-crazy outside linebacker or national media wondering if he's indeed overrated. For those hard-pressed to recall a transcendent Urlacher game, as some have moped this week, look no further than a Monday night in Arizona when he personally transformed a defeat into a win. It's crazy to think he could rattle Manning for an extended period, as he says himself. ''You are not going to fool Peyton Manning. He knows where to go with the ball before it's even snapped. When he's in the pocket, he's probably the best of all time,'' Urlacher said.

Still, the Bears' defense is known for forcing takeaways. ''We make plays when we have to,'' Urlacher said. ''We take it away when we have to. You just have to get 11 guys to the football. If we play hard and physical, we should have a chance to win the game.''

And you never know if Lovie, fond as he is of the man, might reintroduce the idea of No. 54 as an offensive weapon. ''Everyone is asking me that for some reason. I won't say anything,'' Urlacher said. ''That would be great, but we have great players on offense. I don't see any reason why I need to be over there.''

I do. It's called enhancing a legacy when everyone is watching. It's called making this a Brian Urlacher world.

Jay Mariotti is a regular on ''Around the Horn'' at 4 p.m. on ESPN. Send e-mail to inbox@suntimes.com with name, hometown and daytime phone number. (Letters run Sunday.)