INDIANAPOLIS -- Amid all the rhetoric regarding the merits of University of Texas quarterback Chris Simms, the whispers that the son of former New York Giants star Phil Simms is an overhyped and underachieving media creation who fell far shy of his press clippings in Austin, there has been at least one voice of reason.

"To me, he's a great guy, one of the most unassuming people you would ever want to meet," said Temple defensive tackle Dan Klecko, here for the annual predraft combine workouts this week. "You know, people look at your last name, they set up certain expectations for you, and then they sit around like vultures waiting for you to fall on your face. Sometimes it's a tough way to live."

Klecko should know.

	Dan Klecko played his college football at Temple.

After all, as the son of former New York Jets five-time Pro Bowl defensive lineman Joe Klecko, he has also grown up under the lens of a very unforgiving microscope. He and Simms, who met about two months ago, are workout partners at the Parisi Speed School in Fair Lawn, N.Y., where they went to train for the rigors of the combine.

They have shared a lot of sweaty hours in preparation for this week's NFL audition. They have shared their dreams but also their backgrounds. And so, not surprisingly, Simms and Klecko have swapped a ton of tales about growing up the son of a sports superstar.

The players knew about each other, and about their famous fathers as well, only by reputation until recently. But serving as each other's amateur shrink for a couple months has created a relationship that is neither defined by nor confined to the borders of the weight room.

Ironic, both players acknowledged this week, that, as they pumped weights, they also unburdened themselves a bit with stories to which each could relate. Klecko noted earlier in the week that Simms is a player who "can understand my pain." Simms countered Saturday, agreeing that their commonality has "been a big plus for me."

They have become, literally fast friends, both of them improving their quickness, each now able to rattle off at warp speed memories of trying to meet standards that others set for them.

Even the most remote attachment to celebrity, Klecko and Simms have concluded, carries some kind of an emotional price tag.

"What you have to do," Simms said, "is try to turn it around for you. Somehow make it something positive, you know? One of the best times of my life was when I was a kid and watching my dad play. Just being around the game, seeing how people reacted to him and seeing the way he handled it all, that was a plus. I had a great time, really, growing up and being a small part of all that."

Even more so than Klecko, though, Simms learned this tough reality during his four seasons in a Longhorns program where critics contend that the victory total didn't match the talent pool on the roster: The son also rises. But occasionally, he stumbles, too.

Despite a 26-6 record as the Longhorns' three-year starter, even with a school-record 30 touchdown passes in 2002, Simms could never quite do enough to sate Texas' leather-lunged fans. His critics, and there are many, point to Simms' poor record in big games, a yawning disparity between touchdown passes and turnovers, and label his tenure at the school a failure.

He arrived on campus the golden boy, driving up in a chauffeured limo, and was thereafter tabbed as the spoiled rich kid. Simms doesn't fret as much over that misplaced perception as he worries about overcoming the knock he can't win the big game or isn't as solid a draft prospect as he should be.

"My name won't get me drafted," Simms said. "I still have to show the scouts what I can do. There are a lot of good quarterbacks this year. But in my heart, and this isn't boasting or anything, I think I'm right there with all of them."

Most scouts surveyed here still regard Simms as a first- or second-round prospect and with good reason. He has prototype pocket stature, a strong arm, can throw every pass. Whatever technique flaws exist, said one AFC personnel chief Saturday morning, "are fixable."

And there is also this element: All the years in the spotlight, even as a high school player, have provided Simms the kind of savvy and smarts and ability to deal with duress that cannot be simply taught.

He rubbed shoulders at an early age with some of the game's legends, his father included, and was able to share thoughts with quarterbacks like Joe Montana, John Elway, Steve Young, and others. There were times when a simple family dinner could turn into a quarterback think tank.

	“	I'm never going to (complain), and neither would 'Kleck,' about being the son of a former NFL player. People talk about what the downside might be but, when you think about it, there have been a lot of doors opened because of it. But, sure, it's a long trip just to get beyond your father's shadow sometimes. ”
		— Chris Simms on growing up the son of Phil Simms

Don't think teams won't take that into consideration when projecting his down-the-road possibilities.

"He's as prepared for the rigors of the game, probably more prepared really, than most every other guy here this week," said St. Louis Rams head coach Mike Martz. "Hey, by the time the kid was 18 years old, he had already been through the grinder. Trust me, he knows all about the pressures, because he has been there. He experienced it through (his father) and then he experienced it firsthand as well. And sometimes you just can't beat bloodlines, you know?"

That said, his family pedigree won't get Klecko drafted, either. Even more than Simms, the former Temple standout will have to demonstrate to the scouts assembled here that he is his own player. And unlike Simms, he has some physical limitations to overcome.

Klecko checked in at just 5-feet-11 ¾ earlier in the week and, while his weight (285 pounds) isn't particularly alarming, his height clearly is a potential detriment.

Like his father, who holds the distinction of having played in five Pro Bowl games but at three different positions, Dan Klecko is a self-made player, a guy whose heart is infinitely bigger than his natural talent. He projects as a middle- or late-round choice and will have to really hustle to make a team's roster.

Then again, the essence of hustle courses through his veins, he said. And while Klecko doesn't really recall watching too much of his father's career, there are family films of him running out to the back yard after Jets games to mimic his dad's moves as a member of the famed New York Sack Exchange.

"He's been my mentor and, sure, my toughest critic," Dan Klecko said of his father. "Sometimes if we're sitting together, and watching a film of one of my games, it can get pretty loud. There are times he doesn't understand why I've done something a certain way. And I try to explain to him that, well, I'm not him."

That is, Simms acknowledged, a truism with which both fathers and sons have had to come to grips.

"I'm never going to (complain), and neither would 'Kleck,' about being the son of a former NFL player," Simms said. "People talk about what the downside might be but, when you think about it, there have been a lot of doors opened because of it. But, sure, it's a long trip just to get beyond your father's shadow sometimes."

Len Pasquarelli is a senior writer for ESPN.com.