All he saw was a silver and black shirt he hoped could absorb every ounce of sweat he could throw at it. He didn't see the history. Or the number. And perhaps the furthest thing from his mind was Howie Long.

Yet the jersey that the Raiders chose for Cooper, their sixth-round pick in 2001, was No. 75, the same number that Long wore for 12 years while terrorizing NFL quarterbacks.

"To tell you the honest truth, I never thought about it," he said. "Then I went on the field and everybody started calling me 'Little Howie.' But, whatever. I've earned that number now."

Yet he's as much of an unknown as they come. On Tuesday, while the media throng of spotlights, boom mikes and notebooks descended on big names such as Tim Brown, Jerry Rice and Rich Gannon, Cooper was left by his lonesome, bothered only by foreign media that didn't know any better and his fellow nameless teammates.

	“	They say that No. 75 should be retired? Well, maybe it will be when I'm finished with it. That ought to piss (Howie Long) off ”
		— Raiders DL Chris Cooper

For every superstar in the NFL, there are four guys like Cooper -- guys that relatively few people know and even fewer care about. They do their job for pride, not notoriety. Yet talk to them and the stories are just as compelling as the league's stars.

With Cooper, it's the story of a kid that either didn't pay attention in Raiders PR school or will say anything to get a laugh.

"People do know me, just not big time," he said Tuesday. "I mean, I'm not franchise. I'm not MVP status like these other guys. At least not yet."

"They say that No. 75 should be retired?" he says. "Well, maybe it will be when I'm finished with it. That ought to piss (Howie) off."

The Cooper life timeline goes like this: He grew up in Lincoln, Neb., played college football for Division II Nebraska-Omaha, graduated as the captain of the Division II All-America team as a defensive end, played defensive tackle in the 2001 Shrine Bowl and propelled himself to a sixth-round selection in the 2001 NFL Draft.

His biggest game until reaching the league? A senior-year showdown with Northwest Missouri State.

"That was a big one," he says with a laugh. "They put it on public access and everything. I think we had about 8,000 people."

Since then, he's avoided the practice squad like the plague, worked his way into the rotation and has actually become a rather significant contributor to the Raider defense. His career highlight? A November sack and forced fumble of New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady, which led to a critical 27-20 Raiders win.

Yet the life of an NFL also-ran isn't easy. Every night Cooper goes to bed with a fear of losing his job.

"I'm still not confident about it," he said. "At the beginning, you work your ass off to avoid the scout team. Once you're on the scout team, you bounce around from team to team and nobody cares about you.

"Even so, everyday you bust your tail because you just never know. I've seen people miss one punt return in practice and be gone the next day. Nothing is guaranteed. So you damn well better take it serious."

Cooper's biggest strength to the Raiders? His versatility. At 6-foot-5, 275 pounds, he's able to play all four defensive line positions. It's a role that's been expanded even further this postseason with an injury to defensive end Trace Armstrong.

Yet even Cooper admits he's an NFL tweener -- too heavy to play on the outside, too small to play on the inside.

"They put me in the middle for my speed and quickness, which is good and all until I get touched," he said. "Then I go flying."

So why go through with it? Why plod around, putting every drop of energy into surviving in a league where you have very little chance of stardom? Pride. Competition. Money.

"This is, to me, fun," he said. "It's man versus man. I'm a competitor. Everything in my life is a competition. So this is fun.

"To be able to beat somebody up and not get in trouble for it or get paid twice as much as I would if I worked in an office? It's a no brainer. I'm loving life."

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com