Hot in Houston (cont.)

Originally an outfielder, Berkman has transitioned into a smooth-fielding first baseman.

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"When you've gotten off to a great start, people start looking at it, and you're like, 'Man, I've got to maintain this.' I know [you can't], but in your own mind, you're like, 'I WANT to maintain it. It's helping us win and things are going well,'" Berkman says. "You're hitting in the middle of the lineup for a reason. You're expected to produce. And that is a burden. If you're a guy who has had success in the past, and you're looked on as one of the leaders of the team, there's no hiding."

Berkman is well-adjusted enough to know -- and he makes a point of saying -- that his burdens are nothing compared to those of many outside of baseball. The pressures are there, sure, but he has a strong faith, a beautiful family with three young daughters, a multi-million dollar contract that pays him $14.5 million this year, a city filled with adoring fans and an Astros' ownership that supports him.

He also has an unmistakable talent. Many outsiders look at Berkman's easy-going ways, his less-than-chiseled body, his roundish face and his genuine aw-shucks demeanor and assume that, to look like that and play as well as he does, he must be naturally blessed. And he is.

But the whole notion that he does it all with a minimal amount of work? "That's a falsehood, too," Berkman says, offering up his hardened hands. "I got these calluses to prove it."

Berkman comes off, in a lot of accounts, as a kind of goofy, fun-loving everyman. He tells the story of the time in Wrigley Field a few years ago when fans in left field (he played the outfield regularly before this year) were getting on him about his size. One was shaking something at him that turned out to be a pack of Twinkies.

"I always like to mess with the crowd anyway. A lot of times, they'll rag on you, but if you make it personal, if you make eye contact with them, they're scared to do anything," Berkman says. "For a while, they think you're just like the elephant at the zoo."

So during a pitching change, Berkman turned to the fan and motioned for him to toss the Twinkies. Right there, in one of the most famous ballparks in baseball, Berkman opened the package, downed one of the cream-filled nasties and stuffed the other in his back pocket. The crowd went nuts.

Two years ago, trying to shed the unflattering nickname of "Fat Elvis," Berkman jokingly suggested on a Houston radio show that he was more like a sleek, agile puma than Elvis in his latter years. Nowadays, kids dress up as pumas at Minute Maid Park in Houston. There's a "Big Puma" song, and Big Puma jerseys popping up all around the city. When he gets a hit, steals a base or makes a nice pick at first base in Houston, a growl is heard over the public address system.

Those stories have made Berkman incredibly popular around town. Backe recalls a trip to a local sporting goods store in 2004 for a meet-and-greet with fans. Hundreds jammed the place. Backe, who grew up in Galveston but had just been traded to the Astros from Tampa Bay, watched in awe.

"It's the first time in my life I ever had to be escorted into a [sporting goods store]," Backe says. "There I am, trailing behind Lance, waving at people, nobody knows who I am. Just trying to get a little of whatever's falling off him. Soaking it in."

The Astros, smartly, have recognized Berkman's worth to the team. He is signed through 2010, with a club option in 2011 that almost certainly will be picked up. Even after that, it's unthinkable that he won't play in Houston for the rest of his career.

Astros' owner Drayton McLane, who kept ultrapopular stars Jeff Bagwell and Craig Biggio in Houston for their entire careers -- both of them, some might argue, too long -- practically guarantees that Berkman will be in town for the duration of his. "I really feel strongly that Lance will be around," McLane says from his office in Temple, Texas. "I told him, 'You gotta be the heartbeat. You're the next guy.'

"I think the real cornerstones of our team right now are Lance and [pitcher] Roy Oswalt. Those are the two that you want to be there."

Says Backe: "I think [Berkman] can be just like Bags and Biggio were in their day. Better, even, 'cause he's from Texas. He went to high school two hours from the city. He played his college ball five minutes from the park. He is, without question, the face of the franchise right now."

That's a huge responsibility for anyone to carry. It could be -- it has been -- crushing for many.

But Berkman accepts that burden with his easy grin, a clear head and an unwavering determination. "I want to be as good as I can possibly be," he says. "I'd love to win the MVP. I'd love to win the Triple Crown, if it's possible; I don't think it is.

"But I would hope that I'd be a better example off the field than on. I want people to know that I'm a Christian, and I hold myself to a high standard, and that's what guides my life, not perfection on the baseball field. Being a great baseball player is important, and I want to work as hard as I can to do that. But I don't want that to be what I'm all about."