The passion of Polamalu.

He lets his hair down. That is the best way to describe the fast, freewheeling style of the Pittsburgh Steelers' Troy Polamalu, whose flowing locks obscure the Samoan surname on his jersey but whose charismatic play makes him readily identifiable.

"He can be at the line of scrimmage, over the slot, deep safety," Kennedy Pola, Polamalu's uncle, says. "It's amazing what the Pittsburgh staff has done with his talent."

He is a 5-10, 212-pound strong safety whose position does not begin to define him. It will seem to the Seattle Seahawks during Super Bowl XL on Sunday that he is lining up here, there and everywhere. His style is so unorthodox, so deceptive, so head-jarringly effective that admiring teammates call him "Tasmanian Devil."

"He's a very unique player at his position," says Steelers coach Bill Cowher. "He combines the athletic ability to cover, the explosiveness to be a great blitzer, he's an outstanding tackler and, on top of that, he's a very instinctual player."

He is everything Pittsburgh thought he could be when the franchise, beset by problems in the secondary, took him 16th overall in the 2003 draft. The two-time All-American at Southern California has emerged as a two-time Pro Bowler who represents one of the most disruptive forces in his sport.
He is perfect for the blitzing, relentless defense that is central to Steeler success.

"You have to account for where he is," says Kennedy Pola, Polamalu's uncle and the running backs coach for the Jacksonville Jaguars. "Because of how good (his teammates) are, it's allowed him to play kind of freely."

According to Pola, highly regarded defensive coordinator Dick LeBeau gradually expanded Polamalu's role as his experience level increased. "He can be at the line of scrimmage, over the slot, deep safety," Pola says. "It's amazing what the Pittsburgh staff has done with his talent."

Polamalu is tied with linebacker Larry Foote for the team lead with 19 postseason tackles, 11 unassisted, as compiled by the club. For the regular season he had 91 tackles, three sacks, two interceptions and two fumble recoveries.

Those statistics do not reflect how many times the pressure he exerts forces errant or intercepted passes or allows teammates to dump the quarterback because of the attention he draws. Although Polamalu has only half a sack in the playoffs, the unpredictability of his head-long charges into the backfield has helped Pittsburgh level the quarterback 12 times during the stunning three-game march to XL.

Five of those sacks came in the 21-18 upset of the Indianapolis Colts in the divisional round, a game also marked by a fourth-quarter interception by Polamalu that, upon review, was ruled an incomplete pass. The league acknowledged the next day the ball had indeed been picked off.

Whatever the outcome, the game within the game that Polamalu plays with opposing quarterbacks is based on extensive film study that allows him to make swift adjustments. He is becoming known for a move in which he turns his back to the line of scrimmage as if he's dropping deep, only to spin around for an all-out blitz.

"I'm a very instinctual football player," he says. "I have to work hard to make everything in this defense and everything in my game instinctual rather than thinking about it."

His gentle voice and placid demeanor are surprising, given the hard edge with which he performs. Dig deeper, and it is clear there is nothing commonplace about Polamalu, who made a life-altering decision at age 8.

He was surrounded by drugs and crime as he grew up in Santa Ana, Calif., south of Los Angeles, the youngest of five children. His mother, Suila, was divorced and could not keep him out of trouble. Polamalu admits that he engaged in criminal activity.

"As an 8-year-old, that's really young to start breaking into houses and doing things like that," he says.

He visited his uncle, Salu Polamalu, and his cousins during that summer in Tenmile, Ore., about 150 miles north of the California border, and never left.

"When the sun shines in Oregon," Polamalu says, "there is no more beautiful place."

Polamalu's uncle and aunt, Shelley, live on a lush 12-acre spread with a river running through it. There was fishing off the dock and water skiing and so many people who reached out to a boy who desperately needed their love and support.

As Polamalu says with a smile, "It was a community effort to raise me."

The youngster who had been on a fast track to juvenile delinquency soon became serious-minded and focused.

"He always had goals, weekly goals, monthly goals, yearly goals," his aunt says.

One set of goals for academics, one for athletics.

"I've always set my goals so high, I've never attained them. I still do that now," Polamalu says. "Like they say, you shoot for the moon, and you land among the stars. It's kind of like that."

Polamalu is driven to play his position as well as he possibly can.

He approached fellow safety John Lynch of the AFC rival Denver Broncos to compare notes at last year's Pro Bowl. He also made a tape of the league's top safeties, including Lynch and the Dallas Cowboys' Roy Williams, that he studied last offseason. He wanted to see what they did well but also learn from their mistakes when they were caught out of position.

"Anybody who knows me," Polamalu says, "knows I'm passionate about everything I do, whether it's woodworking, spending time with my wife (Theodora) or fly-fishing."

He will not view Seattle as his greatest opponent Sunday. As he sees it, he must win the battle within.

"The great thing about football," he says, "is the test of will, the test of facing your fears of making a mistake or getting injured or being critiqued by people and letting that affect you."

To that end, he prays throughout each game. "I'm in constant conversation with God," he says, adding, "My prayer is not to let anything affect me."

Although Polamalu is known for huge hits, he is just as likely to help an opponent to his feet, much the way the small community of Tenmile, Ore., reached out to him so many formative years ago.