Familiar script buries Bucs far from playoffs
Gary Shelton, The St.Petersburg Times, published 29 November 2004

Give me a shovel. Give me a box. It is time to bury a season. Do not give me conversation about happy endings. Do not talk to me of playoffs or of unicorns, either of which is as easy to believe in as the other. Do not give me math. If I wanted equations, I would call Will Hunting. If I wanted possibilities, I would call Charles Nash. If I wanted fiction, I would call Walt Disney.

Give me a plot. Give me a priest. It is time to admit the silliness of taking the Bucs seriously. Over the past two seasons, you have seen this game a dozen times. It is a bad movie that is replayed too often such as, say, Beastmaster. It is a plot that never changes. There are flashes of potential erased by lapses in judgment. There are glimpses of opportunities negated by relentless inconsistencies. It is a losing team finding a way to lose again.

Give me a kicker. In a game of inches, give me a foot. Martin Gramatica had a Hatless Trick against the Panthers. He missed, and he missed again, and with the game on the line he missed yet again. True, the second one was blocked, and on the final one the snap was a tad high.

On the other hand, Gramatica didn't miss by just a little. Once, I thought he was going to miss the stadium. Once, I thought he was going to miss Earth. All Gramatica accomplished were two extra points and the answer to the elusive question: Ah, that's why Gruden went for it on fourth and 1 in Atlanta. The time has come for a hard decision. Yes, everyone loved Gramatica in his old days, back when every success was a reason to bounce around the field in self-congratulations.

But he has hit only two of his past nine, and it is time the Bucs remind him that being an NFL placekicker isn't a lifetime appointment. Teams cannot afford to let a kicker work out the yips on their won-loss record. The Bucs should have seen this day coming. Gramatica hasn't been the same kicker for a year and a half now. He has become a questionable performer who doesn't stick around the locker room to provide answers. Give me a running back with a grip.

Give me someone who can hang onto the ball. Has there ever been a Buc who is harder to make a decision about than Michael Pittman? As a runner, Pittman was dreadful Sunday. As a receiver, he was impressive. As a runner, he averaged 1.6 yards and lost two fumbles, one as the Bucs appeared on their way to the end zone. As a receiver, he had 134 yards and two touchdowns. No matter what you think of Pittman, the fumbling is not acceptable. His fumbles cost the Bucs the Rams' game this season. Sunday, they played an important role, too.

Give me a someone who can cover a pop fly. Give me a nickel back worth a dime. Before you throw all of your darts at Gramatica, consider this: Even if he had given the Bucs the lead with 1:48 to go, the defense still had to go back onto the field. Which means the lead wasn't safe. For the second straight season, playing without their best offensive weapons, the Panthers roared downfield without timeouts to salvage the game. Once again, the winning pass was an awkward, wobbly lob that looked as if it had been shot out of a T-shirt gun. Last year, the victim was Tim Wansley. This time, it was Torrie Cox, who fell to the ground as Keary Colbert pulled in a 40-yard rainbow. If Jake Delhomme had tossed his car keys to Colbert, it wouldn't have been any softer. Still, it was a touchdown.

Give me a playmaker. Maybe, it could even come on a special teams play. Roll the tape back to midway through the third quarter. The Bucs had just blocked a field goal by Jeff Chandler - who had a day almost as miserable as Gramatica - and the ball was bounding aimlessly across the field. Brian Kelly had a chance to pick it up on the hop and run into the end zone. He couldn't quite grip it, however. Two plays afterward, Julius Peppers picked off a pass and raced into the end zone.

Give me a pedal to the metal. Give me an offense that goes for the kill. Consider this: In the final three minutes of the game, the Bucs had first and 10 at the Carolina 22. Given Gramatica's struggles, you would have thought the Bucs would keep the heat on the Panthers. They didn't. On first down, they ran Pittman. He gained two. On second down, they ran Pittman. He gained two more. On third down, they ran Pittman. he lost one. Then Gramatica missed. In that situation, wouldn't you like to have seen at least one forward pass? Especially when you consider that, from the start of the fourth quarter, Griese had hit nine of his 10 passes for 95 yards? Griese later explained that, on third down, the Bucs had called two plays in the huddle and, upon spotting a Carolina blitz, he switched to a run. On the other hand, blitzes open up passing lanes. For instance, on Carolina's winning touchdown pass, the Bucs were blitzing, too.

Give me a little rage. Give me a little impatience. Isn't it about time someone got tired of the losing? Isn't it about time a cork popped?

Give me a blocking tight end who can keep still on third and 1. Give me an offensive line that can muster more than 2.2 yards per run. Give me a defense that doesn't give up 106 yards to the Panthers' sixth choice at running back. As far as Peppers, well, give me one of those, too. Do not talk to me of close defeats. Do not talk of near misses. No matter how you spin it, the Bucs are 4-7. In those moments when victory can be claimed, they shrink to the occasion. They cannot stand opportunity.

Give me an aspirin. Give me a cold towel. I fear we have seen enough.