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Strawberry daiquiris might not seem to be the drink of choice among NFL linebackers, but that's what Cecil Johnson orders in a Tampa oyster bar. He's telling a story about ducks in his childhood. Some 6'2", 235-pound pro linebackers are reputed not to have had childhoods, much less remember them fondly, but Cecil isn't quite your regulation guy. He's the Jolly Roger of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
The tale begins with Johnson's family sitting around the Sunday dinner table gnawing meat off bones.
"Mighty tasty chicken, Mil," Cecil says. Mil is his mother, Mildred.
"That's not chicken," says his brother, Earl.
"Whattya mean?" Cecil says.
"I mean, that's not chicken."
"Daddy," says Cecil in sudden anxiety, "where's Donald?" Donald is the cherished family duck.
"I don't know," his father hedges.
"Daddy," Cecil repeats, "where's Donald?"
"O h, he died," says Daddy finally. "You eating him, Cecil."