By Michael Silver

Leinart, who has earned raves for his pinpoint passing, brings hope to the fans -- and to a team that has won only one playoff game since 1947. Matt York/AP

Leinart insists he's committed to being an involved father. "It's forced me to be much more responsible about my decisions," he says, "because I want him to look up to me as a great role model. That's harder than playing sometimes."

Among the decisions of which Leinart is proudest was his recent launching of a charitable foundation to benefit various children's causes. (Last Thursday's kickoff event in L.A. was a bowling tournament and silent auction that drew stars such as Maria Sharapova and Nick Lachey and raised more than $100,000.) Yet for all this newfound maturity Leinart is the first to admit that he's "still a kid," beaming over his purchase of a high-tech video golf game (similar to the one on Entourage, naturally) and struggling with basic tasks such as balancing a checkbook.

"I'm 24, and I can't even turn on my air conditioning," Leinart says. "Sometimes I still call my mom to ask her how to do things." Linda Leinart, says husband Bob, "pays all Matt's bills. He doesn't even have a clue." This may help explain Leinart's willingness to pick up tabs, a habit that concerns Chuck Price, a former high school football coach who is one of the quarterback's agents (along with Tom Condon). Earlier this month, Price says, "Matt and I had our first fight. There's a guy he's been hanging around with who I think might be taking advantage of the situation. Matt doesn't want to hear that, but it's my job to be protective. Most of the guys he hangs out with are people he's known since before he was famous. He knows they have his back."

Ah, the entourage. Leinart laughs with his friends about the parallels with his favorite TV show, but he's sensitive about the perception that he's an affected socialite. He was miffed when, at the 2006 scouting combine, New Orleans Saints coach Sean Payton asked during an interview, "So what's the deal with your entourage?" Two months later, after Leinart, who was projected as a top-three pick, fell to No. 10, some NFL executives blamed his Hollywood image, implying that teams were concerned he wasn't focused enough on football.

Given that Leinart, had he turned pro following his Heisman-winning junior season, would almost certainly have been picked No. 1 by the San Francisco 49ers, does he regret the decision to return to USC? "Nooooooooo -- no way," he says. "I wasn't mature enough to play in the pros [then]. And if I'd been thrown out there that season, I'd have gotten my ass kicked."

Sitting at a downtown Santa Barbara steak house on a recent Sunday night, Leinart quietly picked up a four-figure tab for a large party that included Heussenstamm, childhood friend Loc Dao (his housemate in the Bel Air pad Leinart rents for overnight visits with Cole) and big brother Ryan, who runs Leinart's foundation.

Leinart may be living large, but he seems able to keep his ego in check. "Some top picks come in and act like people owe them something, but Matt was the opposite," says Anquan Boldin, the Cardinals' Pro Bowl wideout. Even Warner, who lost his job to Leinart but remains in Arizona as his backup, is an unabashed fan: "He's been very humble. He was very open to being taught, and everybody gravitates to him."

As he led the crew out of the restaurant and up State Street, Leinart returned the love. "Draft day was the most stressful experience of my life," he said, "but it turns out that Arizona is the greatest place I could be. Throw in my son being born, and me being close enough to see him on off days, and every day I say my prayers and go, 'Thank God I'm in Arizona.' "

A few seconds later Leinart walked through the entrance of Tonic, a bustling club, and gave a soul shake to the doorman. "Just you?" the doorman asked. Leinart shrugged as his entourage came up behind him; the doorman smiled and waved them through.