Quarterback is the hardest position to play in sports. Right?

"It is not always the case," Indianapolis Colts quarterback Peyton Manning said. "Sometimes you can just run the ball, run the ball, run the ball, and the quarterback doesn't have to be as effective."

So it's a basketball point guard?

"I know when I played, I'd play for a quarter and Derek Harper would play for a quarter," former Mavericks point guard Brad Davis said. "If a point guard is having an off night, someone can rotate or you can give some of their responsibilities to another player."

A baseball pitcher?

"If a hitter goes 0-for-4, you can win," Rangers relief pitcher John Wetteland said. "If the starter doesn't do his job, you can still win."

OK, which is it then?

Try hockey goalie.

"You are the last line of defense," Calgary goalie Mike Vernon said. "You are either the star or the goat."

A quarterback might have a 300-pound defensive end chasing him. A point guard might have to break a full-court press, set up the offense and score a basket in 24 seconds. A pitcher has to stand on an island facing hitters who have encyclopedia sets available on every tendency.

But no one player in the four major sports correlates to a team's victory as much as a goalie. For no other reason, that responsibility makes it the toughest position in sports.

"You basically control the outcome," St. Louis Blues coach Joel Quenneville said, "probably more than any other position in any other sport."

60 minutes of pressure

For 60 minutes, a goalie protects his six-foot by four-foot island from being inhabited by an object three inches wide and one inch high. From the time a shooter rips a shot toward him, every other player suddenly becomes a spectator for that split second that could break a tie, decide a game or clinch a series.

For 60 minutes, he must stop Al MacInnis' 100 mph slap shots. He must remember where Jaromir Jagr prefers to shoot. He must put up with Martin Lapointe's pestering. Then he hopes all this preparation isn't rendered moot because a shot deflects off a teammate's skate.

"For 60 minutes you have no place to hide, and, if you do make a mistake or have a bad game, you have to stand out there," New York Rangers goalie Kirk McLean said. "If someone scores a goal, it's all everybody talks about. You can't go sit on the bench for a couple of shifts here and there."

A goalie must live that hell three or four times a week. For seven months. Nine if his team is good. Ten if it advances to the Stanley Cup finals.

"It causes sleepless nights," former Dallas Stars goalie Andy Moog said. "You are wound very tightly, and if the game went poorly you don't go to sleep until 4 or 5 in the mornings. You just have to forget it."

He forgets because he wants to. And because he has to.

"A pitcher can make a mistake right down the middle, the guy may foul it off or lay off the ball," said ESPN hockey analyst Brian Engblom, who played 11 National Hockey League seasons. "These guys miss it, it's in. There is no margin for error at all.

Beyond a doubt, this position is mentally tougher than any other because you can't make any mistakes."

Goals more precious

There was a time when a goalie could allow three or four goals a game and his team still had a better-than-average chance of winning.

Of course, there was also a time when you could buy a gallon of gas for $1.

Those days are gone.

And the ones feeling the strain of a league that has seen its scoring drop (from an average of 8.3 goals per game in 1980-81 to 5.5 last season) are the goalies. Every goal is more important.

Just ask St. Louis Blues goalie Roman Turek.

In 1999-2000, he had a regular season most goalies covet. He posted a 42-15-9 record, allowing 1.95 goals per game with a league-high seven shutouts. Turek's performance was a major reason the Blues finished with the league's best record.

When the playoffs began, Turek was good. But the Blues weren't lucky. And when St. Louis had bad breaks, Turek picked up the check.

Against eighth-seeded San Jose, Turek had a puck accidentally thrown past him by teammate Marc Bergevin. One shot deflected off a teammate, off the ice and whizzed over his glove. Another shot from center ice bounced off his glove into the net.

"I try after a bad game to forget about the last game and just keep focused on the next game. But the same thing happened the next game," Turek said. "It was very hard for me. Every game something bad happened….A lot of goals were humbling, lucky goals."

How lucky? Of the 20 goals the Sharks scored in the seven-game series, 10 deflected off either Turek or another Blues player.

When it was over, the top seed was out after the first round.

"It was tough to see, with the way he played throughout the regular season," Blues defenseman Chris Pronger said. "I think he took it especially hard after the series and for a lot of the summer."

Even with the unlucky bounces, and although some of the Blues' best players had a subpar series, Turek took the heat.

Some careers thrive on the opportunity. Some careers die on it.

"You know there is the night you have to make the big save," Colorado goalie Patrick Roy said, "or your team is down one goal, or a game, and the next goal could make the difference."

It could, but so could Roy. It's that potential difference where the pressure builds, every minute, every shift, every game.

"You know that the puck can bounce any way, and you've got to face the best players every night," Devils goalie Martin Brodeur said. "It's not just one line. You're going to meet (Mike) Modano. You're going to meet Brett Hull. You're going to meet the best of the league every game, because you're playing the full game."

Weirdness is normal

Hockey lore has it that former Montreal goalie Jacques "the Snake" Plante would knit between periods of a game.

And that Roy talks to the post.

"First off, look at a team picture," Moog said. "You have 18 guys that look the same and two oddballs that don't fit into the picture at all. Then we have the tools of ignorance. It's like, 'Why the hell would you put that stuff on to stop that thing?' That breeds the quirky image."

Why such an eccentric behaviors? For one thing, goalies are lonely. The demands and burdens breed a degree of isolation from the rest of the locker room. That adds to the accurate perception that a goalie's boat isn't always afloat.

Sure they're teammates, but they're different.

"Well, there are just nights when you feel really lonely," Brodeur said.

The unwritten rule is in baseball that teammates don't talk to the pitcher if a no-hitter is in the works. The same rule applies in hockey. Only the goalie is expected to throw a no-hitter every night.

Such solitude leads to idiosyncrasies that would make Dennis Rodman seem normal. Stars goalie Ed Belfour is meticulous about his equipment, sometimes taking an hour to sharpen his skates. Roy is a freak in the net, his head bobbing like a toy doll as he mumbles to himself.

They do it because there has to be a valve to release at least some of the pressure of their position.

Whereas Modano or Hull may go through scoring lulls, if a goalie allows one deflection off a skate that caroms off the post through the net, it can make the difference between his team winning the Stanley Cup or not.

"If a forward or a defenseman makes a mistake, the goalie can help them out," Turek said. "If the goalie makes a mistake, it's usually a goal."

And because of that goal, he's the one who usually shoulders the blame for the loss.

"People remember that more than they do the defensive guy who let him slip by," Engblom said. "People always remember the negative stuff more than they do the positive.

"Ask Bill Buckner."

And imagine being Buckner three or four times a week. For seven months. Nine if his team is good. Ten if it advances to the Stanley Cup Finals.