We’re a strange breed, the sporting community. Management makes the selections, but if and when those selections do not meet expectations, outlandish or legitimate, we take out our anger on the athlete.

Nobody booed Mike Nolan, whose future was tied to Smith. A great many booed Alex. Before they pitied him.

The Niners, through perception or luck, were a team of quarterbacks, great quarterbacks, from Frankie Albert in the 1950s through John Brodie, to the Hall of Famers Joe Montana and Steve Young, and then after that, Jeff Garcia.

This wasn’t three yards and a cloud of mud territory; it was a place for the wide-open game, a style as irrepressible as the region in which it was utilized, the place of cable cars, protest marches and residents who sometimes seemed as interested in the tailgate party as the final score.

Alex Smith, then only 20, was anointed the hero in waiting. Poor lad. It’s a theory quarterbacks from unorthodox college offenses, the spread, the run-and-shoot, don’t adapt well to the NFL, where the defenders are bigger, faster and smarter. And we are presented names such as David Klingler or Andre Ware as examples.

At Utah, Smith played in the spread of Urban Meyer. OK. But Nolan seemed less concerned with the how and what than with Smith’s agility and reaction time. Nolan ran Smith through some strange tests, not on how far he could hurl a football but on how quickly he could jump a rope.

That said, Northern California, having lost most of its sports icons, Montana, Young, Jerry Rice, Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire and shortly to lose Barry Bonds, was desperate for a new star. Alex was shoved into the starting lineup, probably before he was ready.

He was injured while trying to run, not pass. The Niners changed offensive coordinators, bringing in Norv Turner, and in 2006 Smith showed progress.

But the Niners in 2007 changed offensive coordinators again. Smith was injured again, more severely. Nolan publicly questioned Smith’s toughness. The Niners in 2008 changed offensive coordinators again, to Mike Martz. Smith was injured again, the same shoulder, and was placed on the injured reserve list, with a dispassionate Nolan adding, “No specifics. All I need to know is if he’ll be back on this football team.’’

After a restructuring of that enormous contract, Smith is. Nolan, however, is not. He was fired two months into the ’08 season, replaced by Mike Singletary. Shaun Hill became Singletary’s quarterback, but maybe Alex Smith could return to where he once was, without the baggage.

“That draft pick, all of that is not what I think about,’’ said Smith. The 49ers on Friday began a weekend mini-camp, a re-introduction of Alex Smith, a newlywed with a new vision.

“My focus after the last two years, is getting healthy and being out on the field,’’ Smith emphasized. "Kind of being with my teammates. It was so difficult last year and the year before to sit on the sidelines and watch or be in the training room. You’re part of the team, but you’re not. You don’t travel, aren’t really there, have no accountability to teammates. I want to get that back. It’s something I really missed. My goal is to be the player I can be.’’

What kind of player is that? A quarterback who has particularly small hands and therefore fumbled an inordinate amount when he did play?

A quarterback whose legs are no less significant than his arm and could keep defenses off balance?

Smith wants to be a quarterback who, despite working under a fifth offensive coordinator in five years, Jimmy Raye, has the adaptability and perception to do what is required, most of all win games for a franchise that had lost its way along with a great many games.

“What I learned through all this,’’ Smith said, reflecting on his mess of a career, “is to stop worrying about the stuff you can’t control. Early on, when you’re a young player, it’s easy to be distracted. I want to focus on things on which I can really make a difference.’’

He has the chance. Four years after he had it a first time.