Several members of the University of Hawai'i offensive line would like to someday play in the National Football League. But right now they aspire to be "dancing bears" and "Sugar Rays" and, by all means, avoid "killing grass."

In the argot of their new offensive line coach, Dennis McKnight, there are few loftier compliments to be bestowed upon a Warrior lineman than being a "dancing bear" which denotes someone who is powerful while being quick on his feet and smart. A "Sugar Ray" is an accomplished counter puncher and "killing grass" is what happens when time and drills are wasted.

All are part of the curious lexicon that the animated McKnight, an 11-year NFL lineman and Jesse Ventura sound-a-like, brought with him to the job when he returned to UH this month as a 46-year old graduate assistant. The high-decibel intensity he imparted on special teams in an earlier tenure (1999-2000) has been plugged into the offensive line with a whole new language.

But, then, linguistics has become something of a required course for the veteran members of the offensive line who endured the Mike Cavanaugh era (1999-2004) and its unique patois.

"He (McKnight) reminds me a lot of Coach Cav because he had a lot of his own sayings, too," said Dane Uperesa, a starting fifth-year senior tackle. "If we had a normal offensive line coach, we probably wouldn't respond as well as we need to. Us big guys need somebody yelling at us to motivate us. Everything in our system is repetition and it is good to have a coach lighten it up a little. He makes you laugh and makes you focus."

Drawing on boxing history, Riverdance and the Three Stooges, McKnight does that. "I'm just a different guy, but I like to have fun at what I'm doing and make it interesting for the players," McKnight said. "At first they were looking at me like, 'He's crazy. He's lost it. Why did June (Jones) bring this guy in to help Wes (Suan) and Mouse (Davis)?' But after a while I think they understood there is a method to my madness."

Grasping the methodology is one thing. Speaking the language of McKnight, however, is an acquired skill that not everyone on the Warriors' practice field has mastered. Davis, who coached McKnight with the Detroit Lions and coaches with him at UH, said "I understand Dennis, but I don't know that I speak McKnight."

Of course, it doesn't always take a glossary. The bulging, rope-sized vein in McKnight's neck or intense flapping of the arms are usually pretty good indicators that something has raised his ire. Just as the rib-rattling slap on the back — "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Mc-Knight has asked more than once this fall — underline an enthusiastic appreciation for a job well done.

Yet, for all his bellowing and seeming bluster — and his booming voice can echo off the dorms at the Diamond Head end of the practice field or hold its own with a gas-powered tree-trimmer — there is an undercurrent of encouragement to his field-side manner.

"The thing that caught me off guard at first is how positive he is," Uperesa said. "I didn't think he'd be that way looking at him, but he's probably the most positive coach I've ever known. I mean, if he has anything bad to say, he is going to put something positive on it. He motivates you instead of making you feel bad."

After all, nobody wants to be a "chowderhead" when you can be a "dancing bear."

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8044.