TAMPA, Fla. -- His thick Nigerian accent belies an upbringing on the hardscrabble streets of the infamous South Central section of Los Angeles but, when it comes to naivete, there is nothing phony about Green Bay Packers defensive end Kabeer Gbaja-Biamila.

Ask the second-year veteran if he knows who holds the NFL record for most sacks in a season, and he shrugs. Mention the name Mark Gastineau, the former New York Jets star who set the record with 22 sacks in 1984, and Gbaja-Biamila gives a blank stare. Query the Packers burgeoning pass rush force about how many quarterback takedowns he can collect this season and he quickly changes the subject to his strong religious convictions.

Which might be altogether appropriate given that Gbaja-Biamila, who leads the NFL with nine sacks after notching three more on Sunday, has suddenly found a knack for getting into the enemy backfield with some degree of regularity.

	“	He's still a kid, and very raw. Probably he doesn't understand yet how good he can be, how much money he can make, just how important the sack is anymore the way the game is played now. But he's learning. ”
		— Santana Dotson, Packers defensive tackle

"Ask me how I do it and I really don't know," said Gbaja-Biamila, a fifth-round choice in 2000 who played sparingly as a rookie. "Sometimes even I get surprised. Today there was a time when I remember thinking, 'Whoa, I got a sack on that play?' A lot of it is lucky, I suppose. But then it might be like David and Goliath, you know? It only took a tiny stone for David to bring down the giant."

A former San Diego State standout, and a defender some Green Bay scouts weren't very high on in the 2000 draft, Gbaja-Biamila fits snugly into the underdog role. Even after an offseason in which he worked hard in the weight room to add extra tonnage, he checks in at a svelte 248 pounds.

It took some degree of prying, of course, to pull that nugget of classified information from a guy whose self-bestowed nickname is "KGB." The league's newest sack terror doesn't really want opposing offensive tackles to know just how light he is but, when pressed, he acknowledged he cannot lie when asked so directly.

Then again, his weight matters little if he can't be blocked, and on Sunday afternoon Gbaja-Biamila was virtually untouchable. Playing his usual quota of snaps, between 20-25 per game and essentially on passing downs, he wreaked havoc on the Buccaneers, with his three sacks and a forced fumble. It marked his second three-sack game of this young season and he has at least one sack in all four games.

Twice he victimized Tampa Bay rookie left tackle Kenyatta Walker, who had a tough day with three penalties and myriad blown assignments. In the third quarter, he sacked Bucs quarterback Brad Johnson twice on the same series. On the second, he roared past right tackle Jerry Wunsch, impacted Johnson, and caused a fumble that was recovered by John Thierry and led to a go-ahead field goal.

"I watched the guy on tape and he looked quick," Wunsch said. "But you really never get a true feel for a guy's speed just watching tape. You have to get a few snaps against him. This guy, I can't even say his name. But people are going to find out who he is if he can keep playing like he did today."

Roughly translated, Gbaja-Biamila's name means "Big man, come and rescue me." He may not be a big man in football terms, but his natural "cornering" ability, a knack for flattening out and "making himself small" as he comes roaring off the edge, could rescue a Green Bay pass rush that faltered in 2000.

The Packers totaled 38 sacks a year ago, which was 19th in the league, and team leader Thierry had just 6 ˝ sacks. Gbaja-Biamila had 1 ˝ sacks and only rarely flashed the kind of ability that even remotely hinted at what was to come.

This summer, he spent hours with defensive line assistant Jethro Franklin, attempting to link technique to raw skill. Packers coaches still ride him hard, because Gbaja-Biamila will yet take the occasional down off, and because five of his first six sacks came after Green Bay had built significant working margins in its first three games. That wasn't the case on Sunday, though, in a hard-fought contest that wasn't decided until the final snap.

"He's still a kid," said Packers defensive tackle Santana Dotson, "and very raw. Probably he doesn't understand yet how good he can be, how much money he can make, just how important the sack is anymore the way the game is played now. But he's learning."

It's hard to tell where Gbaja-Biamila would be if former Packers personnel director Ken Herock hadn't been impressed with him in the East-West all-star game after his senior year. In the practices preceding the game, Gbaja-Biamila showed natural quickness and burst, exploding out of his first step, beating offensive tackles up the field. Herock knew the youngster wasn't very polished, didn't possess any counter techniques, but felt that he could evolve into a situational contributor.

Gbaja-Biamila still doesn't have many counter moves, and is only now beginning to use his hands to grab and throw tackles out of the way, to work back inside when he can't get up the field cleanly. He is still very much a work in progress but is progressing because he is working more at his craft. And he promised Sunday evening, before departing Raymond James Stadium, to get better. He can't wait, for instance, to play the Bucs again, and can't wait to get his pet pit bull back from San Diego, where it is living with his fiancé.

The dog's name is Nala, and Gbaja-Biamila described it as "a pit bull with a poodle's mentality." Kind of like his own persona, he said, easy going and slow to anger. He does not like to play the game bent on revenge, believing it defies his religious beliefs, but he allowed that Sunday's defeat will hang with him for a while.

"We will learn from this," he said. "I will learn from this."

Told of his remarks, Wunsch smiled wanly, his head apparently still spinning from the times he whiffed on Sunday trying to block the NFL's newest sack phenom.

"Let's hope," Wunsch said, "he doesn't learn too much more."

Len Pasquarelli is a senior NFL writer for ESPN.com.