Blackshirts to the Front

     Preacherman came strolling in to "Our Lady" wearing an old black suit, white shirt, skinny black tie, shades and and a fedora, looking like Howlin' Wolf come back to life, looking for booze, women and good times he might have missed out on when he was alive.
     As if.
     Somehow he made his way to the table and sat down heavily without ever removing his focus from Candide, who was performing a routine to Living Color's 'Cult of  Personality' in which she removed layer after layer of newspapers.
     "Preacherman," I shouted as I stood and shook his hand. "What can I get for you? From the bar, anyway."
     "Aw, man. You always one step ahead of me," he chuckled in his throaty baritone. "Johnny Walker, black, would be just the thing to get me going on the topic at hand."
     "That sounds good," I said. I placed the order with the waitress who sauntered away. If Preacherman's eyes hadn't been stuck in his head, they would have locked on to the waitresses six o'clock like a flying ace. "Break the 'Shirts down for me, Preach. Who are we going to see out there on Saturday?"
     Preach composed himself after a congratulatory 'Mm-mm-mmmh'. I wasn't sure who or what he was congratulating. "Let's start with the d-line. That was a banged up group in the spring, but Meredith, Ankrah, Steinkuhler and Rome seem to be the guys that will start. Expect to see Jason Ankrah and Eric Martin out there a lot, too. People don't realize how banged up this unit was last year, especially after Crick got hurt. I'm not saying that Rome is better than Crick, but what I am saying is that this year's unit is better from end to end than last year's. More experience and bettwr motivated with some young guys waiting in the wings to step up if given the chance."
     "All right, Preach," I said. "How in the world are we ever going to replace Lavonte David? That guy single-handedly saved at least three games, last year."
     The waitress came back with Preacherman's drink. He struggled to disengage his eyes from the depths of her shirt, barely managing to get a quick glance at her face as he thanked her, before locking on again as she left.
     "Engage, Maverick, engage," Lloyd said, barely looking up from a collection of parts and wires that I think was the circulatory system of his iPad.
     "Just chill, baby," Preach intoned as he sipped at his JW. "We got Compton back in the middle playing defensive quarterback. Fisher is finally starting to own it and in my humble opinion, Zaire Anderson will be this year's Lavonte. I mean, c'mon. You got to love a brother with an African country for a first name. Just as long as it isn't, you know, South Africa or Niger or Libya."
     Lloyd looked up a little too quickly and gave Preach a look that was half accusatory, half interrogation.
     "Tell me about the D-backs, Preach," I said.
     "No 'Zo Dennard this year, but this year we've got seven quality guys battling for five spots if you include the nickle. We've got Seisay and Green on the corners, with Evans and hard-hitting Stafford at the safeties. Cooper, Smith, and Jean-Baptiste are all quality defenders. This unit grew up last year and will be even better this year."
     "What do you think, overall? Is this year's squad an improvement over last year's," I asked.
     "Let me put it to you this way. This year the Blackshirts are better in more positions than they're worse at. They lose Crick, David and Dennard, true enough, but they have improved in the other eight. If you want me to divine the future and pick who I think will getting the most highlight time on Sportscenter, I think it will be Meredith on the line, Anderson at linebacker and Stafford in the secondary."
   I nodded as I absorb the info Preacherman had dropped on me.
   "One more thing," he added. "Papuchis, the new d-coordinator is actually an improvement. Papuchis has been learning the Bo system of defense for years, now and is wholly committed to making this defense work. He isn't distracted by fresh, ineligible talent."
   Lloyd looked up again. "Have you noticed how relaxed Bo is this year?" he asked. "Look at the post practice interviews and press conferences. He doesn't look like he wants to perform an endoscope with the TV camera on the nearest reporter."
   "What do you that means?" I asked Lloyd.
   "Dunno. Watch out? I feel good about this team and I'm about to let it off the leash. That's my theory, anyway."
   Good theory, Lloyd.
   Husk-husk and on the qb.