Defensive Rookie

1. Derrick Johnson, LB, Kansas City. I've seen him practice twice and he has the best speed for a linebacker I've seen since Lawrence Taylor. I think he's going to be not good, but great.

2. Demarcus Ware, LB/DE, Dallas. Sportswriters tend to vote for the flashy guys who make big plays when it comes to awards. But it's possible -- in fact, likely -- that at the end of the year the Dallas coaches will think Chris Canty, their fourth-round, two-way defensive end, will actually be their best defensive rookie on the team. For what Dallas needs, a stout presence up front, Canty will come up big. But Ware will be the outside rusher Dallas hasn't had since Charles Haley's cameo role a decade ago.

3. Corey Webster, CB, Giants. I remember Nick Saban telling me in Miami camp what an incredibly gutsy kid Webster was. He had, basically, a drop foot last year, and would get it taped up so he could limp around on the field for LSU. Webster wasn't nearly the player he could have been with his customary speed, but he played because he's a gamer. "Before he got hurt, he was a top-10 pick,'' Saban said. "I can tell you that if the Giants hadn't picked him, he wasn't going to get by us in the second round.'' What's impressed me watching him in the preseason is his fearlessness against proven receivers and his excellent hands. He'll get some picks, which the Giants need after being only plus-4 in turnovers last year.

Coach

1. Mike Tice, Minnesota. If he gets his team atop the NFC, he wins in a walk.

2. Jack Del Rio, Jacksonville. If he beats the Colts, he gets lots of votes.

3. Andy Reid, Philadelphia. If he can guide his team through the Terrell Owens-infested waters, he should work at the U.N.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"That kid grew up so far out in the country, he had to go toward town to hunt.''

-- Dallas coach Bill Parcells on first-round draft choice Demarcus Ware, who grew up in rural Alabama.

FACTOID THAT MAY ONLY INTEREST ME

One of the fun things about doing a package for the current Sports Illustrated (the pro-football preview, on sale now!) on the NFL playbook was to understand some of the weird lingo you always hear around NFL teams. Like the numbering system. Some teams have plays that might be called something like, "Scat right zoom, heavy 329.'' I've been hearing these numbers forever, and I knew they referred to the pass routes the receivers would run. And I knew what some of them meant. The ''9,'' for instance, is the universal language for a "go.'' Not all teams run offenses with this numbering system. The West-Coast teams do not, subbing words for the numbers. Philadelphia's players would look at Donovan McNabb quizzically if he called a "329'' in the huddle. "Just another way to teach players,'' offensive coordinator Brad Childress said. "It doesn't mean one way is better. We use words, and some teams use numbers.''

I asked Jedd Fisch, the precocious young offensive assistant working at the right hand of Ravens offensive coordinator Jim Fassel, to go through the numbering system for me. What each number means:

1. Flat route out of the backfield.
2. Five-yard slant.
3. Ten- to 12-yard square-out.
4. Fifteen-yard in-cut.
5. Eighteen-yard comeback.
6. Twelve-yard curl.
7. Twelve-yard corner (receiver breaks at 12 yards and heads for goal-line pylon).
8. Twelve-yard post (receiver breaks at 12 yards and heads for goalpost).
9. Go.

Let's say there's a standard two-wide, one-tight-end formation on the field, with one wideout spread left, the tight end next to the right tackle and the other wideout spread right. If the quarterback calls a play that includes "329,'' it means the wideout split left runs a 10- to-12-yard squareout, the tight end runs a five-yard slant back across the formation and the wideout split right tries to jiggle then speed past coverage by sprinting straight downfield.

Just thought I'd expand your X-and-O horizons a little bit on the eve of the season.

AGGRAVATING/ENJOYABLE TRAVEL NOTE OF THE WEEK

The scope of Hurricane Katrina, for those of us not particularly meteorologically minded, was amazing. On Wednesday, I flew from Texas to New England. We flew to the south of the storm, which was at that time over western New York. But the wind along the East Coast buffeted the 737 so much that we landed like a ping pong ball in Boston. This was when this storm was nothing, relatively speaking, and it still made our plane bounce around like a marionette. And I thought: I will never, ever "ride out'' a storm if smarter people than I tell me to evacuate someplace.

STAT OF THE WEEK

Brett Favre needs a 266-yard passing day Sunday against his old quarterback coach, Steve Mariucci, in Detroit to become the third NFL player to throw for 50,000 yards.