The air was hot and thick inside the tiny, wooden church as Irving Fryar squeezed the sides of the pulpit and prepared to speak. Below him a sea of hand-held fans fluttered about as the parishioners of Hopewell Missionary Baptist Church in Pompano, Fla., waited for the special sermon to begin. Behind him the choir was settling into the seats next to the organ. In the seats to his right were the deacons. From the pews to his left, Fryar could feel the laser gaze of the preachers' wives.An ordained pentecostal minister, Fryar had preached for several years without incorporating any of the experiences he's had in 17 NFL seasons. He had always wanted to keep the two worlds separate, but on this subject the connection was too great.

A deacon nodded gently. Fryar opened his tattered Bible to the 23rd Psalm, and began to speak, his voice building in volume, his hand pounding the pulpit for emphasis. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil," Fryar hollered. "Now, we as Christians call it the valley of the shadow of death, but we as football players call it ... the middle of the field. Either way, it all comes down to faith. When I cross the football version of the valley of the shadow of death, I must have faith that when I stretch out for a ball with linebackers looming and safeties charging, that God, or in this case my quarterback, will be watching over me."

"Amen," answers Fryar's flock. Preach on, Reverend Fryar, preach on!

With the congregation in a full-on frenzy, Fryar, whom safeties cite by name as the best when it comes to taming the kill-zone in the middle of the field, intoned that only those people who can cross the valley of the shadow of death without fear in their hearts will ever get a chance to reach the promised land. "I brought that house down," says Fryar.

But that day in church, Fryar could have just as easily been preaching to a congregation of NFL players preparing for the playoffs. For this time of year, only those brave souls willing to venture across the NFL's most dangerous and sacred turf can ever hope to make it to heaven -- or, uh, Tampa.

Of course, not everybody survives the trip. Consider the testimony of Panther Pro Bowl wideout Muhsin Muhammad, who has made many a fearless foray into the fray for his 216 career catches.Testify, Brother Muhammad, testify!

"When you go across The Middle, you break all the rules of common sense. This is a league predicated on how hard you can hit guys and injure them. Knowing that, you still run full speed across the middle of the field with your eyes on the quarterback and absolutely no concept of how many defenders are flying at you. Most guys are scared to death to go over the middle because you can easily get knocked out."

Like Michael Irvin, whose career ended after he dived for cover on an eight-yard slant in Philly last season; his head hit the turf so hard he experienced temporary paralysis. Like Ike Hilliard, who in November suffered a bruised lung when Detroit safety Kurt Schulz speared him with his shoulders and helmet; Hilliard's neck needed fusion surgery after a similar collision three years earlier. Like Andre Reed, who was once hit so hard by Pepper Johnson, he says he went "coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs."

Carolina tight end Wesley Walls knows the feeling. He's still trying to unscramble his brain after being blasted in Week 1 by Washington's Mark Carrier on a routine five-yard route, a hit deemed so brutal by the league that the safety was suspended for a game. That same week the Saints' Joe Horn got Beetle Baileyed deep by Schulz. Horn followed the wideout's creed and popped right back up, screaming into Schulz's facemask: "Come on bro, that's embarrassing. You gotta be able to hit harder than that or they're not gonna put you on ESPN!"

Titans tight end Frank Wycheck says he's had his clock cleaned so many times this year, the hits seem to run together in his mind, or what's left of it. "The middle of the field is the most dangerous part of football because of the unknown," he says. "It can look clear as day one second, and the next second you are getting absolutely blown up."

Crossing the middle can best be described as a real-life version of the video game Frogger. It's like jumping on one of those tiny scooters every kid wants for Christmas and bolting out onto a busy freeway...while updating your Palm Pilot. A receiver might steer clear of a middle linebacker, only to get turned into road pizza by an unseen free safety who has feigned zone coverage, built up 15 yards of momentum and decided he wants a starring role in NFL Films' next Greatest Hits.

This could be why teams move to a quick count, so slot receivers don't have time to consider what they are about to do. Often times the wideouts who keep their health end up losing their nerve and short-arming passes, which is where the term "alligator arms" comes from. And who better to preach about that than former Seahawks Hall of Famer Steve Largent, who had two molars turned into baby teeth and got knocked woozy so many times he went into politics after his playing career. Bring it, Brother Largent, bring it!

"You are a trophy going over The Middle, and everyone else is head-hunting. But if you let that effect you mentally, you are ruined," proclaims Largent. "There are many guys who got hit in the middle, lost their nerve and were relegated to the dust bin of NFL history. You don't remember any of their names, do you? No. Because those guys don't last very long. Some of these wideouts, they wander in there now and it looks like one of those TV shows you see on the safari. The dumb zebra standing in the pond with the lion lurking in the tall grass."

Lurking in the artificial grass this time of year are the ferocious defenses of the Bucs, the Ravens and the Titans. And thanks to the proliferation of the zone blitz, more and more massive linemen and linebackers -- holy terrors like Derrick Brooks, Zach Thomas and, yes, Ray Lewis -- are backpedaling into passing lanes to join killers like John Lynch and Blaine Bishop in crushing crossing wideouts -- Revelation style.

They defend The Middle so vehemently because, from a strategic standpoint, it's where defenses are most vulnerable. Think about it: The ideal situation for a quarterback is to stand in the pocket, his shoulders squared, looking dead ahead and throwing to a wide receiver crossing 10 yards in front of him. You have to make a more difficult throw to win the big stuffed animal at a carnival.

The Rams, who attack The Middle with the same surgical precision that Greg Maddux uses to work the corners of the plate, gutted the Vikings in Week 15 with such frightening ease that Minnesota has yet to recover. You let an offense get away with that too often, and you'll be headed straight to hell, er, Cincinnati. "The weakness of any defense is the middle of the field," says Wycheck. "So defenses will do anything to protect against someone exploiting that. Success comes down to proving to a defense that you aren't afraid to attack the middle of the field."

Which is why one of the best barometers of playoff success is to find the teams that best attack and defend The Middle. The playoff fate of the Vikings and the Raiders will rest in Psalm 23 as well as the palms of No.81 Tim Brown and No.80 Cris Carter, two of the all-time greats at going over The Middle. Fans marvel at their hands, quickness, concentration and courage. But peers know the secret to success is knowing when to prance and when to dive for cover. You can take on a hard-hitting safety like Miami's Brian Walker if you're Keyshawn Johnson (6'4", 212). But if you're Wayne Chrebet (5'10", 188), you don't want to play Private Ryan when you see Ray Lewis coming. After all, nothing summons early retirement like a head-on collision. And why make a daring catch if you won't be alive to brag about it?

The next rule of thumb: Know how to mask the pain even when your vital organs are screaming at you. "The first thing defenses want to see is how a team reacts when a guy gets blasted all over the field," says Panther safety Eugene Robinson. "When you see a guy like Cris Carter or Tim Brown come across the middle and make a one-handed catch even after someone lays some nasty hat on 'em, you walk away with mad respect for a player like that."

And so the Saints' best hope for that ever-elusive playoff success waits in the middle with Joe Horn. Steve McNair's favorite target in Tennessee is Wycheck between the hashes. In Denver, the Broncos rely on Rod Smith and Ed McCaffrey. The Jets feature Chrebet, who flourishes in The Middle because of vise-grip hands and the ability to exploit coverage pockets while avoiding the blind spots where free safeties tend to lurk. "Over the middle is feast or famine," says the Green Lantern. "If you catch it on the fly, you can run for days. Other times I've got three guys waiting there to kill me. So it can bring you a big play or an ambulance shot."

Or better yet, a title shot. Because in the crunch time of December and January, most defenses fall back into a Cover 2 scheme that leaves the safeties deep to blanket receivers while daring offenses to beat them over The Middle. Only after they get burned there by a few big passes will most defensive coordinators switch out of that suffocating scheme. It's like shooting your way out of a zone defense in hoops. Once the center of the field is tenderized, wideouts have room to improvise and, because linebackers are cheating toward The Middle, running backs can rip off huge chunks of yards off-tackle.

But none of that is possible unless you have a receiver who is willing to meet his maker across The Middle. Like former Raider tight end Todd Christensen, who was once hit so hard by Robinson that he popped up and said "Hey, nice hit ... Ken."

Okay, Ken, er, Eugene, speak the truth. What are the scariest sights in the middle passage? "The Rams will pick you apart," he says. "The Vikes, the Raiders, the Titans, they will kill you. On defense, that safety for the Bucs, John Lynch? That dude ain't no punk now. He's a beast. [The Vikes'] Robert Griffith will lay some major hat on you. The Ravens defense in The Middle? They will crush you. Look, the NFL is about respect. And the middle of the field is where you get it. That's what it all comes down to this time of year: who controls the middle of the field. Look at the Super Bowl last year. You remember where the last play of the game was, right?"

Can we get an amen, please...and some smelling salts?