The beat stirs almost nonstop inside Darren Howard's head. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, it nudges him out of a deep sleep. He'll shake awake, his head will start to bounce and pretty soon Howard, the Saints' rookie defensive end, is out of bed and on his way to what he calls "The Playroom." He stumbles out of the master bedroom, which overlooks the 16th green of a suburban New Orleans golf course, and past the living room, where the framed NFC Rookie Defensive Player of the Month certificate he earned in September hangs, then climbs the stairs half asleep and shuffles across the cream-colored carpet to the other side of the house.

Inside The Playroom, an entire corner is crammed with speakers, mikes, computers, crumpled lyric sheets, synthesizers and mixing equipment. Jay-Z's new CD sits atop a Yamaha keyboard. The clock is stuck at 10:10 p.m. And on the wooden floor in the corner is the only visible football relic: a copy of Reggie White's autobiography.

Howard turns on the equipment, clicks an icon, sits back into his commander's chair and, in a minute or two, out flows an original tune. Last year at Kansas State, when he doubled as an All-America end and a highly sought-after campus DJ, Howard picked up the nickname Sackiavelli, and with six sacks in nine games as a raw pro, he's lived up to the tag. This new tune is a jazzy piano riff, hip-hopped by the computer and laid down over a thumpin' beat. The sound is fresh and young, but also driving and relentless -- the perfect Sackiavellian soundtrack for the current class of rookie bell-ringers that Howard heads.

You remember the QB class of 1999? Well, these are the QB killers, here to spoil the fun for years to come. And they're not waiting to get started. A year after Tennessee defensive end Jevon Kearse rewrote the rookie record books with 14.5 sacks, Courtney Brown and LaVar Arrington were taken 1-2 in the draft by Cleveland and Washington, respectively. In all, NFL teams used six of the top 13 picks (and nine of the top 33) to try and find their own L'il Freaks. Last year, Kearse was the only rookie to bag double-digit sacks. This season, six rookies could hit that mark, which is better than Lawrence Taylor, Bruce Smith and Kevin Greene managed in their first tours of the NFL. "How can you not be impressed by these young guys?" says Bears Hall of Fame linebacker Mike Singletary. "It's amazing to see so many young defenders say, 'I can do this, and I can do it now.' This could be one of those special classes people talk about."

Although Arrington has struggled with his switch to strongside linebacker, Brown has a team-high five sacks playing at end, and, along with injured QB Tim Couch, has emerged as a cornerstone of the Cleveland franchise. Meanwhile, Philadelphia tackle Corey Simon (pick No.6), Chicago middle linebacker Brian Urlacher (9), the Jets' OLB John Abraham and end Shaun Ellis (12 and 13) and Howard (33) all have 4.5 or more sacks. "It's a lot like the NBA, with young guys jumping right into the mix," says Saints offensive tackle Kyle Turley. "Offensive lines are staying the same while these guys are coming in faster, stronger and bigger."

So far, both NFL Rookie Players of the Month have been pass rushers -- Urlacher won it for October -- and the race for Defensive Rookie of the Year will most likely come down to Simon, Urlacher, Ellis and Howard. (Someone will have to outplay Urlacher down the stretch to take our vote.) "You do have to go 'Whoa!' when you see how many very young, very fast, very talented guys just came into the league," says Chicago defensive coordinator Greg Blache. "They could have an impact on the league for a long time."

Now it's Bruce Smith's turn to say "Whoa!" The veteran sackmaster (176 in 16 seasons and still counting) is taking the wait-and-see approach before he gauges the impact of the young bull rushers. "I can't compliment them thus far," says the 37-year-old Redskin. "You see a guy make a play or two here or there, but you have to do it year in and year out to really make a statement." True, but while this group of young rowdies has no NFL past -- just the here and now -- they're issuing plenty of statements.

Just ask Troy Aikman. Simon set the tone for the Eagles' season when he chopped down Aikman on the first play of the year. Just ask Brett Favre. He fumbled when Ellis crunched him on his second series as a pro. Afterward, Favre winked at the rook and shook his hand like the lead frat-rat welcoming a new member into Animal House. Just ask Drew Bledsoe. Abraham clubbed him back in September, four times. Just ask Daunte Culpepper. Urlacher was on him so fast in their Week 7 meeting it looked like a videotape stuck on fast- forward. Just ask Steve Beuerlein. Growing up, Howard used to disassemble phones and radios and TVs. He did the same thing to Beuerlein, rocking him for two rough-and-tumble sacks when Carolina came calling Oct. 15.

What's even more impressive is that Howard has switched sides in the NFL and is now rushing from the left, which is like tossing the pen into your other hand and trying to take dictation from Dennis Miller. "These guys are studs," says New Orleans D-line coach Sam Clancy. "Well, baby studs. They're young, but they have all the tools." For a pass-rusher, that means a great first step, strong hands, balance, leverage and, most important, equal helpings of instinct and attitude.

The pass-rushing legends -- Deacon Jones, LT, Reggie White, Smith et al. -- had all that and then some. "I think the rookies have the athletic ability on the old guys," says Giants tackle Lomas Brown, a 16-year QB protector. "But you can't match the veterans' intensity and intangibles. That's what the rookies are going to have to learn in order to be leaders like the great guys."

That lesson hardly seems lost on these young headhunters. "Pass-rushing comes down to two things: quickness and attitude," says Simon, a Florida State product. "Do you have the determination to go after the quarterback full speed until the echo of the whistle?"

While most of the young QB killers rush from the corner (Urlacher blitzes five to seven times a game and often is untouched), Simon, the rookie leader with 6.5 sacks, menaces quarterbacks the old-fashioned way -- straight up the gut. And thanks largely to Simon's pocket-pushing 300 pounds, veteran Hugh Douglas has been able to sneak around the edge for an NFL-best 13 sacks. "The smells, the grunts, the pounding -- I love it in the middle," says Simon. "It's such a confined space. There's no running from anything or anybody. You face the issue on every down."

Abraham faces the issue mainly on third downs, but he's just as effective. Before a torn abdominal muscle threatened to end his season weeks ago, Abraham collected 4.5 sacks in his first six games, including two game-clinchers, brushing past blockers like a trail-runner bending back skinny tree branches crowding the path. "That guy is scary fast," says Clancy, an 11-year NFL veteran. "This kid is gonna be a force. I mean one of the all-time greats." Also among Abraham's admirers is teammate Bryan Cox, 32, who has begun trying to copy the rookie's moves, much to the amusement of his fellow vets. Says Mo Lewis, "Man, his butt is too slow to be stealing anything John does."

Why the rookie rush party? Because in the NFL, the quickest way to a W is by pulverizing the passer. "Everybody wants a guy like Kearse now because everyone is trying to get to the quarterback," says Saints defensive coordinator Ron Zook. "The drop-off from starting QB to backup is so huge in the NFL. Remember, the guy's a backup for a reason, so the switch emotionally wrecks a lot of teams." Also, because the number of quality cover corners in the league hasn't kept pace with the teams using multiple wideouts on offense, there's an even higher premium on pressure up front. And teams can no longer afford to wait on expensive picks to become well-rounded veterans only to have them jump ship and pay dividends for someone else. It's easier to say, "Kill the quarterback, son, and we'll teach you how to play the game later."

Finally, not only is there very little film on rookies for opponents to study, the machismo culture of the NFL often lulls veterans into a false sense of security. "Guys do fall into that trap," says Bears offensive tackle Blake Brockermeyer. "You know, 'This guy's a rookie, I'm gonna kill him, no problem, I've got an easy game.' Then the game starts and he's all over the place, bringing it big time." Call it karmic payback for the rookie hazing these guys have had to endure. Urlacher had to sing for his teammates; Howard had to take the D-line out to an expensive dinner in a limo; Simon's veteran teammates often refer to him as "my little fat buddy"; and Ellis -- oh, poor Ellis -- buys sandwiches and doughnuts for Saturday meetings, for which the vets show their appreciation by aiming the gaseous by-products directly at him.

"I know we are technically rookies, and sometimes being a rookie sucks, but we aren't playing like rookies," says Urlacher. "What would be great is for people to look at this class and say, 'They changed the way the game was played.' Someday people might just be talking about us like that."

That someday is now for Urlacher, who is equipped with 4.5 DB speed, nose tackle toughness and a Seau-like seek-and-destroy mentality. "It's a bit scary to think what he can accomplish once he brings it all together," says Blache. "Brian could become something totally unique."

Against Minnesota on Oct. 15, Blache signaled in a coverage scheme different from the one the Bears usually run. Urlacher, who pulled several all-nighters in camp memorizing the team's playbook, noticed the change, thought it odd and switched the defense to its normal coverage. After the defensively successful series, Blache, a 12-year NFL veteran, asked Urlacher, a 12-week NFL veteran, why he vetoed the call. "Oh," Urlacher replied, "I thought you must have been distracted, Coach."

Urlacher's goodie-two-shoes rep -- the kid with a single scholarship offer who works his way into the first round of the draft -- has been well documented, and more than a bit overblown. But while posing for pictures last week in the lunchroom of Halas Hall, Urlacher let his on-field persona slip out just a bit: Standing against a wall, the veins in his neck bulging, his arms ripped and wrapped in barbwire tattoos, Urlacher glanced at the camera with a nefarious stare while mouthing the Eminem lyrics, "Shady ... will f--ing kill you."

The people in the room gulped a bit as they got a glimpse of the very last thing a quarterback might see before his world goes dark. Like Favre, who tried to run away from Urlacher on Oct. 1. Favre had rolled to his right when his eyes twitched and his head spun around as he sensed the mass of mayhem that had managed in a nanosecond to close the runway-sized clear space he'd just had. Favre took a slide to avoid the sack and as he hit the ground, Urlacher came barreling over the top of him with such a flash of speed and violence you half expected to see the quarterback's helmet in his hands when he finally rolled to a stop.

Afterward, a flustered Favre sat on the ground and looked around to see who, or what, had chased him down. His eyes instantly locked on Urlacher. And, for this rookie class of QB killers, Favre's confused expression said it all:

"Where in the hell did he come from?"

This article appears in the November 27, 2000 issue of ESPN The Magazine.