Jeremy Lin and Tim Tebow are symbols, built up by people who see whatever they want to see in them. Arian Foster is an aspiring human being.

Give me the human any day of the week.

Insist on looking for a role model in professional sports? Why wouldn't you go with the guy who's lived through real adversity, not the kind manufactured by myth makers and dependent on getting outraged that someone got "overlooked" or "doubted." Yes the Harvard-educated Lin and the homeschooled Tebow have had it so rough.

Lin had to wait almost halfway (OK, more like one third of the way, but still) through his second NBA season to become a starter (the nerve of those teams!) It took Tebow five games into his second professional season before he was thrown the keys to the Denver Bronocs offense (what an outright travesty!)

No wonder why this duo is being courted to write inspirational books.

Then, there's Foster. He is not anyone's symbol. He won't preach to you on how to live your life. He's never pretended to be perfect. He's just guy who's come from a little and turned it into a lot.

One who happens to be twice as real as Lin and Tebow combined.

Take the Houston Texans tailback's press conference on signing his new, five-year $43.5 million deal with the franchise. Foster who made the NFL minimum while leading the league in yards from scrimmage (4,061), rushing yards per game (97.9) and rushing touchdowns (26) in 2010 and 2011 has finally made it big.

So what does he do?

He shows up at his Tuesday press conference at Reliant Stadium with an entourage of none. There are some Rodeo cowboys on the premise who have a bevy of handlers. And just try to interview Lin these days without being headed off by an army of assistants. Heck, Lin brought an entourage of security guards to last weekend's Harvard-Columbia game.

Hey, that Columbia Lion mascot can't be trusted.

Foster? He just steps to the podium and starts telling stories that would make the Abominable Snowman melt. Tebow often doesn't seem to know what to say if he's taken off script. Foster is at his best unplugged.

If anything, it sometimes seems like Foster has to hold himself back at times during the football season, to almost remind himself to not stray too far outside the regimented NFL norm while staying a true original. No such worries on this day.

He talks about why he told general manager Rick Smith that he never wants to even get close to a holdout situation, putting it in such pragmatic real-life terms that soon he's talking about his mother, leaving Texans senior director of communications Kevin Cooper motioning for a tissue box.

"When I look at guys that hold out, I understand what they’re doing," Foster says. "I understand that it’s a business and I understand sometimes that it's their only option. I’ve always been one of those guys . . . when I was growing up, we weren’t the most financially stable family — ever. When I got into the NFL, when I got my first active-roster check, I thought I had made it.

"I was always grateful for that. I still have friends and family members struggling financially. For me to demand money for a game that I get to play, a game where you get a lot of money, it just seemed weird to me. I’m not saying that it’s wrong for anybody else . . . to each his own."

Foster isn't going to tell another man how to live his life. "When you start comparing yourself to another man’s mirror," he says, "that’s when those negative thoughts start creeping in."

What other NFL player says something like that? Let alone a 25-year-old one with a mere three seasons in the league?

 The Women In His Life

Foster's been through a unique journey of his own. One that included watching his mother Bernadette Sizemore giving away almost everything she had to keep the family going.

"I think the straw that broke the camel’s back was when I saw my mother pawn her wedding ring to give us some food that night," the now 43.5 million dollar man says. "I just told myself that I wanted to do something with my life.

"I just wanted to do something with my life to make sure that when I had a kid that she never had to worry about the lights being on. She didn’t have to worry about any of that. I didn't care if I had to work three jobs or whatever."

Foster's 2-year-old daughter Zeniah will grow up with the buffer and financial security her dad never had in his own childhood. That means a lot to this new millionaire. It's a big reason why he broke down into tears on signing day, finding himself getting handed Kleenex by Cooper.

How can you not root for this guy?

The one whose most important purchase on signing day happens to be a fruit basket. That's what Foster told his mom he'd get her when as a 7 or 8-year-old he ran through a litany of what he'd buy everyone in his struggling family once he made the NFL — and forgot his mom at first.

"I was going to buy a house," Foster says. "I was going to buy a car. And my brother's like, ‘What are you going to get me?’ ‘I'm going to get you this.’ I told my sister and I told my dad and I left my mom out. And she said, ‘What are you going to get me?’ I said, ‘I’ll get you a fruit basket.’

She was like ‘A fruit basket?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I’ll get you a fruit basket.’ "

Foster had one the grandest fruit baskets you'll ever see delivered to his mom's work on Tuesday.

The man has a sense of humor, one more thing that Lin and Tebow sometimes seem to lack in all their zeal. Somehow giving your mom an anti-abortion Super Bowl ad doesn't carry the same authentic feel-good charm.

 At Home

Arian Foster is the best running back in the NFL. He's come from farther back than Lin (undrafted after long seven rounds as opposed to the NBA's short two-round system). And he's reached much greater heights. Foster is a true MVP candidate rather than a guy force feed into something called the Rising Stars Challenge, only to show himself unable to keep up with Ricky Rubio once the ball is in the air.

But Foster sees little reason to self identify as a star. Maybe that's because that Houston humility's already seeped into him.

"I'm extremely happy to be here," he says. "I live here. This is where I live permanently in the offseason. I'm a Houstonian."

How lucky is Houston to have him?

Looking for role models in pro sports is often foolish. But if you're going to do it, this is the guy.