No need to hide for Hall, Bucs
Gary Shelton, The St.Petersburg Times, published 28 September 1992

There is some irony that the play is called 28 Y-Hide. Today, it is the primary reason the Tampa Bay Buccaneers don't have to hide. Who would have believed it? The perfect play at the perfect time by the team that has been the NFL's most imperfect. Even now, it remains difficult to believe just how open Tampa Bay tight end Ron Hall was Sunday when he caught a 14-yard touchdown pass in the final minute to lead the Bucs to their 27-23 victory over Detroit. Put it this way, if linebacker George "Oops" Jamison had started running toward Hall when the ball was thrown, he might have closed the gap by now. Or not.

Okay, it got hairy afterward, what with Rodney Peete turning into Joe Montana and leading the Lions on a trail drive through the Bucs' defense ("Prevent? Oh, I thought you said the pretend defense.") Okay, so if the Lions throw into the end zone on the last play, the rallying cry of this area today would be "Same old Bucs." Okay, for a while it looked a lot less like people would be talking about Y-Hide than Jekyll and Hyde.

But freeze this moment, this play, and savor it. It is the reason this team is going to enter October with only one defeat. Perhaps you have an idea how rare that is. It is doubtful, however, you know how rare this play is. In 13 years as a coach, Sam Wyche says he has seen it called only 10 times or so. He says he may or may not use it one more time this year. Yet, facing second-down-and-losing-by-three, in the final minute, on the road, the Bucs were able to haul it out. And haul it in.

The play is a hand-me-down from Wyche's days under Bill Walsh in San Francisco. Since then, Wyche says every time but one - that time, the quarterback missed the receiver - it has resulted in a touchdown. Once, after it helped the Bengals beat the Raiders, linebacker Matt Millen stormed the Cincinnati bus and demanded to know where the tight end had come from.

So why not call it 20 times a game? Because, Wyche said, it depends so completely upon deception. The tight end comes off and blocks hard, going to one knee (Wyche says that isn't necessary, but usually results from the block). When the defender (in this case, Jamison) comes up to defend the run, the tight end jumps up and runs to the left corner of the end zone, resisting the temptation to stop and order a pizza along the way.

Sunday, it worked as if Hall had turned invisible. Vinny Testaverde made a marvelous play-fake, Jamison came up to order a large chunk of Gary Anderson, medium rare, and Testaverde threw to Hall. The anatomy of the play began earlier on the sideline, however. When the Bucs called a timeout with 55 seconds left, coaches were discussing four plays. One was a run. Another was to send a man in motion, then pass to him in the flat. A third was another pass to Hall.

Then there was the Y-Hide. "It depends on man-to-man coverage by the defense, when they're expecting the run," Wyche said. "We thought they would be thinking we would be running, because a field goal would tie the game. We thought that if the worst thing happened, and they sacked us, we still would be in position for a field goal, and we had two timeouts left."

Testaverde wanted the Y-Hide. When Hall heard the play in the huddle, he wanted it, too. "When I heard it, I knew it was six," he said. Already, Hall had enjoyed one of his finest days, a day in which it looked as if he was campaigning against the Bucs' pursuit of Keith Jackson. He was injured most of preseason, but Sunday, he showed what he can do. As a blocker, he is a warrior. As a receiver, he always has been underused. "Ron can do what he did Sunday every week," Testaverde said.

Hall, of course, is something of a thrill-seeker. He walked across hot coals in college, and he walked out of a Cessna when he took up sky-diving last off-season. But Sunday, when he walked across the goal line, he achieved a thrill he hadn't experienced as a Buc. "That's as good as it's felt," he said. "It's been frustrating. But we're 3-1. We're for real."

We'll see. There still are times you get the picture of Wyche as an animal trainer, beating back the Bucs of old with a chair and a whip. Sunday, he won. Monday, the Bucs were smiling. Y-Not?