Bucs Fans Will Definitely Miss Their A-Train Amtrak's Silver Star, New York to Miami, stopping in Tampa, was running 45 minutes late Thursday afternoon. Passengers waited in Tampa's historic Union Station. Baggage sat on carts. "I heard he's retiring," station agent Angelo Mendez said. Mendez has been around trains most of his life, but now he was talking about Tampa's most famous locomotive, who left the station Thursday. Mike Alstott. "A-Train," Mendez said. The engineer who'd steer the Silver Star from Tampa to Miami is named John Considine. He told you one train engine generates 4,800 horsepower, enough to pull 200 tons down the track at 80 mph. Someone asked John the engineer what it says about a football guy to be nicknamed a train. "Big, tough mother," he said. Mike Alstott didn't seem big and tough Thursday. His voice quivered and cracked as he finally said the word: retirement. The big, tough guy rumbled to more touchdowns and maybe more friends than anyone in Buccaneers history. He trampled would-be tacklers and injuries until his neck couldn't stand the strain. His heart could always take it. The big, tough guy was someone who, according to Tony Dungy, "made it cool to be a Buccaneer." He was the last guy Warren Sapp touched, for good luck, before taking the football field. He always brought the big, tough Bucs defense off the bench because the D wanted to see how many guys A-Train would flatten. Michael Joseph Alstott loved running out of the tunnel and the roar of the crowd. He loved the sound of that train whistle at games. He gave his body and soul to the Bucs. Fans loved him for it. He loved them back. "You've given me memories that will last forever," he said Thursday. The announcement, long expected, came in the vast, wood-paneled team meeting room at One Buc Place. The Bucs had flowers for Alstott's wife, Nicole, and endless praise for her husband. Teammates and coaches were there. For 12 seasons, the big, tough guy loved being around this team. He loved pranks, too. He and his pal, former Bucs tight end Dave Moore, thought nothing of jacking up a teammate's car, yanking off the tires and hiding them. When Jon Gruden had his first Bucs team vote for captains, Mike Alstott was a unanimous choice. Alstott was on injured reserve this season. "I still voted for him for captain," Bucs running back Michael Pittman said. The big, tough guy came from Joliet, Ill. In grade school, he wrote a composition about growing up to be in the NFL. He still has that paper. At Purdue, to keep in shape, he put his Jeep Wrangler in neutral and pushed it 100 yards, again and again. At Alstott's first training camp, Bucs secondary coach Herm Edwards pulled John Lynch aside and pointed to the rookie fullback. "Stay away from him," Edwards told Lynch. "He's a clavicle breaker." Mike Alstott scored 78 NFL touchdowns. Bucs executive vice president Bryan Glazer fought his emotions Wednesday while recounting one Alstott TD 11 years ago - 31 yards of classic A-Train, up the middle, three broken Lions tackles, six points. It sealed the Bucs' first playoff victory in 18 years. There would be no turning back. During the Super Bowl run, Mike Alstott scored his team's first touchdown in all three postseason games, including championship night in San Diego, five years ago tomorrow. He was there when the guys needed him. The clavicle breaker loved taking his young son Griffin in the locker room and playing catch with him on the field after games, or chasing daughters Hannah and Lexie. The big, tough guy would often stop by hospitals, unannounced, no publicity, to see the children. Mike and the kids made each other smile. There was this one Mike Alstott Football Camp early in Alstott's Bucs career. There was a boy in a jersey covered with grass and mud. Mike Alstott grinned at him. "Dirt is good," Alstott said. "That means you're having fun." At the train station Thursday, engineer John Considine said it takes a mile to brake his speeding train, all that horsepower, all those tons, to a complete stop. "That's power. You don't just stop that." Or ever forget it. After he retired, Mike Alstott sat in the front row of the meeting room as the lights dimmed for a video tribute. Up on the screen, No. 40 blasted past anyone in his way. Griffin sat on his big, tough father's lap. Tears are good. Martin Fennelly, The Tampa Tribune 25January 2008