Bucs fall badly at home
The St.Petersburg Times, published 16 November 1981

Tampa Bay is woeful. I wonder what Doug Williams would do with an efficient, consistent offensive line and a productive running: game?

If all that stuff was cooking, then the Bucs' defense could get a legitimate test. One I suspect it would pass with some ease.

Tampa Bay's defense, although hardly perfect, was holding on aganst Denver until two mental boners by cornerback Norris Thomas earned unsportsmanlike conduct penalties and led to the Bronco touchdown that blew the Bucs out of the water.

At least the defense has a chance. Given a reasonable chance, it can compete in this league. With a smidgeon of new talent in the secondary, it's a defense that can win a pennant. Special teams? The Bucs continue their screw up-a-week method. Sunday it was a blocked Larry Swider punt, setting up Denver's first touchdown. Next week, who knows?

But it's the offense that should have coach John McKay chewing deeply into his cigars. That should be causing owner Hugh Culverhouse to bite fingernails up to the elbow. That should be creating at least minor ulcers for offensive coach Bill Nelsen.

Tampa Bay's 5 1/2 -year-old professional football team has an offense that has reached the desperation level. It's a unit of 11 men who don't wholly believe in one another.

WILLIAMS KNOWS HE'S ONE of 11. He's willing, I think, to take even more than 1/11th of the blame, the curses and the boos. But not all. "There's no way I can rejoice," he said. "I've been around here 3 ½ years now. I expected us to be more consistent bv now. I can only do so much. I'm human. I don't know a back in the league who can do it while moving backward."

Last week's road stinkeroo at Minnesota had been followed by a home stinkeroo against Denver. Booing was permissable. Although he said, "I can't let the boos worry me," clearly they did. There is none among the NFL's 1,400 players who tries harder to be good. Or wants it more.

Williams has a personal philosophy of never analyzing his own performance or that of his offensive partners. But, he began to stray. "People in the stands pay to see a pass completed," he said. "They don't see Denver's No. 57 (linebacker Tom Jackson) coming through untouched. I know what they (fans) are going through, but they don't know what I'm going through. The fans can go to work Monday morning and say, 'Take Williams out' or 'Throw McKay in the bay.' I've got to live with it." Williams wanted to say more. To go on telling what he perceives as the full story of Tampa Bay's offensive short- comings.

But, he stopped. Eddie Robinson, Williams' marvelous and wise old coach at Grambling, taught him to govern his tongue. To not criticize,. whether it's his buddies or his coaches. Then, tears came. Williams sitting there, it was a terribly poignant scene. It told you how much failure bothers this quarter- back. It seemed to nag him more than it nags most of the men in Buccaneer jerseys.