Playing With Fire

STEVE SMITH stands in the middle of a soccer field in Charlotte 's McAlpine Creek Park on a sunny spring day, his right foot resting atop a scuffed blue soccer ball. Six boys, including Smith's son Peyton, age 8, sit cross-legged in a circle as the coach of the Dragons barks instructions for a new drill. � "When you see a crowd on the right," Smith says, "where are you going?" � "The other side," the boys say. � Smith nods, then dispatches the kids to various spots on the field. He passes the ball to an offensive player and tells him to let his defender steal it. Corralling the ball, the defender boots it 10 yards left to a teammate, who knocks it downfield. "Good, good, good," Smith says, high-fiving the grinning young defender. � The flawless execution by his players doesn't last long, however, and when one boy kicks the ball the wrong way, Smith snaps at him, "You need to look." Then he lowers the boom. "Everybody take a lap. Your teammate messed up too much." The Dragons begin to sprint around the field--all, that is, except the goalkeeper, who's trying to hide his toothpick frame behind the right post. But his auburn hair and knee-high yellow socks blow his cover. � "Everybody take a lap," Smith repeats, shaking his head. � For anyone who's seen or played alongside Steve Smith on a football field, the notion of him as teacher and disciplinarian might seem incongruous, if not laughable. From his earliest days in football, the Carolina Panthers ' 27-year-old All-Pro wide receiver has been as hard on his coaches and teammates as he's been on hapless defensive backs. Since entering the NFL in 2001, the 5'9", 185-pound Smith has shown an impatient and impetuous side, as well as a penchant for flamboyant touchdown celebrations. The enduring image of him from the past NFL season? Ranting at a Panthers coach on the sideline during Carolina 's NFC Championship Game loss to the Seattle Seahawks in January.

So how to reconcile that scene with the image of Steve Smith as doting family man and molder of young athletes--a soccer dad who coaches his son's games and watches his daughter, Baylee, 4, from the sideline with his wife, Angie, and their one-year-old son, Boston ? The answer is simple. Smith has found that his football persona is useless when dealing with rambunctious children. "Sometimes when I get on my kids, my mom says, 'That's payback for all the headaches you used to be for other people,'" says Smith with a laugh. "But I've got to try to help them not make the same mistakes I made."

While Smith's stubbornness and fiery temperament may not serve him well as a parent, they've helped him flourish as an undersized NFL wideout. Last season, his fifth in the league, he led all players in receiving yards (1,563) and tied for tops in receptions (103) and touchdown catches (12). Those numbers were all the more remarkable considering that the Panthers lacked a consistent running game and a strong No. 2 receiver. (They've since signed veteran Keyshawn Johnson .) "Steve's success is a result of his intensity," says Carolina coach John Fox. "It's a fine line--that emotional, competitive mix. I don't want him to eliminate that part of him but to funnel it."

Teammates got a taste of vintage Smith as the Panthers trailed 17-0 early in the second quarter in Seattle on Jan. 22. Following a failed possession that ended with a sack of Panthers quarterback Jake Delhomme , Smith--who had just one catch to that point--trudged off the field flashing four fingers to indicate the number of defenders on him. On the sideline he got in the face of quarterbacks coach Mike McCoy, gesticulating frenetically, until Fox walked over, whispered to Smith and nudged him away. To TV viewers, it looked as if a petulant Smith was complaining about not getting the ball; Smith, however, says he was merely upset with the Panthers ' lack of intensity. "One game away from the Super Bowl and we had a nonchalant attitude: 'Hey, guys, we're still all right,'" says Smith. "Well, we weren't, by any stretch of the imagination. We were basically getting our lunch taken from us. So I was voicing my opinion."

Says Delhomme, "That's his nature. That's what makes him a great player. As soon as he doesn't do that on the field, he's not the same guy."

Smith has always been passionate. Growing up in South Central L.A. , he was prone to outbursts on and off the playing field. In one youth baseball game he was berating his teammates so relentlessly that his mother, Florence Young, came out of the stands, halted play and scolded her son. "I told him, 'Stop it. Those kids have parents,'" Florence recalls. "He was more intense than he is now. It's always been with him."

When Smith enrolled at Santa Monica College in 1997--where he lined up alongside another future NFL All-Pro, Chad Johnson --his habit of excoriating teammates and overreacting to slights sometimes led to fights. After one particularly contentious week, coach Robert Taylor called him in for a private meeting. "Steve was an angry young man," says Taylor . "I asked him why he was so mad. He said he didn't know. I said, 'Well, until you find out, I'm going to sit your ass.'"

After a one-game suspension, Smith was able to control himself for the rest of that season, but there were more fights with teammates after he transferred to Utah and again when he joined the Panthers as a third-round draft pick in 2001. During a film session in his second NFL season, Smith and practice-squad receiver Anthony Bright got into an argument, and Smith pummeled his teammate so viciously that Bright was hospitalized, requiring plastic surgery for a broken nose, broken bones in his cheek and a damaged eye socket. Carolina suspended Smith for a week and fined him. (Bright, who played in the Arena League this year, filed a civil suit in 2004, alleging that Smith derailed his NFL career. A settlement was later reached, and under its terms Smith is not permitted to discuss the fight.)

After that ugly incident, Smith knew he needed to change. He began seeing a sports psychologist for sessions that included anger-management therapy. "It was helpful," Smith says somberly. "Understanding that sometimes the way I take things [negatively] is not really what people mean. I thought about what happened when I didn't control my temper. Do I want to go through this every time someone does something that I don't appreciate or I disagree with?"

There were also visible changes. When Smith attended University High in Los Angeles , he got a tattoo on his left arm that read ROUGH AND NASTY, 100 PERCENT FOOL. In 2003 he replaced it with the more innocuous image of a bull. (His astrological sign is Taurus .) "Now he thinks before he reacts," safety Mike Minter says. "Last training camp he was about to get into it with [a defensive back], but he stopped, thought about it and apologized."