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When the NFL's toughest man tackles a running back, he never tries to duck his head. He wants to look him square in the eyes; he wants to see the results of the pain and intimidation he is inflicting; he wants to hear that quick expulsion of air created by the impact, the breath forced involuntarily out of the lungs, the body crumbling groundward, the sound of the collisions so vicious that everything around him halts in awe.
"I read body language," he says. "I know when it is over, when I have won, when I am in control, when that guy won't want to come back for any more."
There is nothing pretty about what Ray Lewis does. But that is the beauty of his ...