Although I’m a news junkie, I do draw some lines. One such was underscored with the arrival of complementary copies of the New York Post this week. It’s hyped as “Florida Same Day,” (excluding Orlando). Features include “Tampa Bay Racing Selections.”
Sorry, Rupert. Being privy — even for free — to “New York’s #1 newspaper for Sports, Business, Gossip and Entertainment” isn’t inducement enough. I prefer not to jumpstart my mornings with graphic accounts of beheadings and grave robbings.
There’s something perversely fun about reading pre-game analysis in a post-game context. As in how Sports Illustrated sized up the Super Bowl. SI saw it as close — as did most fans and pundits alike — with the Oakland Raiders edging the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, 24-22.
What made no sense, however, was the “matchup” of Raiders Coach Bill Callahan and Bucs’ counterpart Jon Gruden.
“Oakland’s attack is based on some of Gruden’s theories as implemented by Callahan and assistant coach Marc Trestman, who constantly tinker with them,” explained SI . “Gruden has an intricate knowledge of the offense that is used by both teams, but he doesn’t have the personnel that the Raiders do. Bottom line: Players make systems. Edge: Raiders.”
Number one. Somebody obviously mistook fat for big and old for fast. Somebody also discounted team speed. In football, it kills.
Number two. Gruden knows the Raider offense better than anyone. Better than anyone who tinkers with it. He installed it and hired Callahan and Trestman to help implement it. In practice, the 39-year-old Gruden even played scout quarterback to give the Buc defense an insider’s perspective on the Oakland offense. From audible cues to Rich Gannon pump fakes, the Bucs were code breakers. Code breakers who were better players, a lethal parlay.
SI , however, did have an interesting take on Oakland’s AWOL center Barret Robbins. The eight-year veteran and Pro Bowl selection “is the key to the line’s success,” assessed SI . “So surly that some teammates avoid speaking to him in the locker room for fear of incurring his wrath, Robbins is nonetheless a schematic savant who makes the blocking calls before each snap. ‘He’s like Rain Man with pads,’ says fullback Jon Ritchie.”
Makes you wonder why the Raiders didn’t, in effect, babysit their troubled and troubling center before the biggest game of his — and everyone else’s — life. Tijuana isn’t exactly Savant City.
Has the Port of Tampa taken a bum rap when it comes to the issue of Cuba? George Williamson, the port’s director, thinks so.
“There’s a lot of rhetoric out there,” says Williamson. “This is not a political issue to me. I believe the media did a disservice to us.
“We’re portrayed as having no interest in business in Cuba. Full stop. We have limited resources, but we’re interested. We’re interested in all trade, wherever it goes. If opportunity is there, we’ll chase it down.”
So how did such a “disservice” happen?
For openers, it sure did look like the Port of Tampa had been, well, missing the boat when it came to business opportunities — present and future — in Cuba. Mayor Dick Greco, who serves on the Port Authority, could lunch with Fidel Castro, and County Commissioner Pat Frank, who’s also on the Port Authority, could advocate legal trading with Cuba, but seemingly nothing had changed at the port. Although the hard-line Bush Administration had eased the 42-year-old trade embargo in 2001 to permit the sale of food and agricultural products to Cuba on a cash-only basis, it didn’t appear to prompt any “chasing” at the port of Tampa. Next month U.S. Rep. Jim Davis of Tampa becomes the first Florida congressman to make an official visit to Cuba.
Item: There was that agricultural expo in Havana last fall that drew 285 American exhibitors. No state was better represented than Florida — with 31. The Port of Tampa was a no show — even though no other American city can match Tampa’s cultural and trade roots with Cuba. While Windfalls-R-Us hardly beckons right now, Tampa’s overall business potential — from cargo to cruise-and-ferry passengers — remains substantial.
If nothing else, it was a chance to better position Tampa for opportunities with post-Castro Cuba. Relationships count in matters of international commerce.
Item: To assure that its policy was clear, the port issued this statement: “Unless or until the official U.S. government position changes, the Tampa Port Authority will not conduct sales and marketing trips to Cuba and will not be joining regional, Florida or U.S. trade missions (sanctioned or not) to Cuba in the pursuit of business.”
Not exactly the anthem of a port proactively — or even reactively — “chasing business.”
Item: Earlier this month there was the very public criticism of the port by a prominent shipping agent. Arthur Savage, who is licensed by the U.S. Treasury to do business with Cuba, told the Tribune that “The Port of Tampa is doing nothing to promote trade with Cuba and I’m baffled.” He recently expedited a dicalcium phosphate shipment to the Cuban port of Cienfuegos — by way of Port Manatee.
“Tampa Bay has a geographic and cultural advantage in trading with Cuba,” added Savage. “We need to begin taking advantage of it before we lose out to our neighboring states and counties.”
Item: A fortnight ago Dagoberto Rodriguez Barrera, the chief of the Cuban Interests Section in Washington, barnstormed into town to talk to local business people and media. Of course, he’s a pitchman for the Cuban government, and he made the standard case for ending the U.S. embargo.
But he also extolled Tampa as a “perfect” fit for Cuban trade. He then cautioned against being left in the wake of more aggressive ports, such as Manatee and Jacksonville. His comments made local headlines. He met briefly with Louis Miller, executive director of the Hillsborough County Aviation Authority, but not Williamson, who was out of town. Some port staffers, however, did sit in on a session.
Within days of Savage firing his blamethrower and Rodriguez Barrera courting the local business community and media, Tampa Port Authority Chairman Joe Diaz said the port should be pursuing trade opportunities with Cuba as long as those pursuits “stay within the confines of the law.” Moreover, he’s now actually asking staff to check it out — meaning researching the fine print of embargo exemptions. He also has directed the marketing and legal departments to get up to speed on Cuban trade possibilities by next month’s meeting.
This much seems apparent. A series of events — from Hurricane Michelle-prompted embargo exemptions and an influential mayor’s sortie to Havana to insider fault-finding and high-visibility media criticism — have taken a toll. Call it pragmatism — goosed by some bad press.
It’s an about-face, and it’s about time.
Granted, Tampa’s top-priority markets are China and Mexico, and, no, the port doesn’t have competitive container facilities. And Havana-bound grain shipped down the Mississippi isn’t a logistical match with Tampa. And, yes, the port has but a two-man marketing department. But practicable options now exist. Exercising them may still make waves — but not tsunamis — with Tampa’s dwindling, embargo-enamored Cuban community.
“Fertilizers could certainly move out of here,” acknowledges Williamson. “That’s a good piece of business for us to go chase. Our job now is to focus a bit more on that market and see what our opportunities are.”
So don’t be surprised to see the Port of Tampa, two-man marketing staff notwithstanding, showing the flag at an upcoming Havana exposition. And it should shock no one when the phosphate market actually includes Cuba. In fact, a lack of such scenarios would truly be a disservice.
As for the politics? That’s the way it (embar)goes.
Gov. Jeb Bush had no problem jumping in with his brother to protest a race-based admissions policy at the University of Michigan. Would that he had shown the same sort of principled fortitude here at home where race obviously has everything to do with retaining Broward County’s black Elections Supervisor Miriam Oliphant.
In trying to placate minorities, the governor has discredited himself by thwarting the will of the Broward County Commission. The commission wants this six-figure paragon of incompetence, gall and entitlement gone, preferably last year. But it requires the governor’s help. He must do the actual pinkslipping.
Filing an amicus brief is easy. Firing a high-profile minority is hard.
Bush, however, is not without cover. He is thwarting the Broward County Commission because, he says, there is no hard evidence that Oliphant — a national embarrassment and a statewide scandal — engaged in any INTENTIONAL wrongdoing. “I will not suspend Ms. Oliphant prior to the upcoming municipal election cycle unless she is indicted or I am presented with specific, concrete evidence that she has engaged in criminal or ethical wrongdoing,” said Bush in a letter to the commission.
The precedent couldn’t be more clear. Merely being very bad at a very important job isn’t cause for firing. You have to be a certified saboteur or criminal to get canned.
Bush, however, may be getting what he deserves in Broward. Minorities can differentiate principle from pander, and everyone can see a governor trying duplicitously to insulate himself from any possible blacklash.
The residents of Broward County, however, are not getting what they deserve. They’re still stuck with a supervisor of elections who is lousy — but apparently not on purpose.
The year was 1969.
Richard Nixon was president. Apollo 11’s Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. The Concorde made its first test flight. “The Godfather” and “The Peter Principle” topped the best seller lists. “Midnight Cowboy” and “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” were box office hits. The Woodstock Music and Art Fair happened. The Mets won the World Series.
And the National Football League came to Tampa.
Actually, that August the Washington Redskins and the Atlanta Falcons played an uninspired exhibition game at 2-year-old Tampa Stadium. The capacity crowd of some 42,000 cared less about the caliber of play than about the reality that was unfolding. The NFL had anointed Tampa — even if the game didn’t count in the standings. Never was such a meaningless pre-season game so momentous to a community.
The import of the moment wasn’t lost on a cadre of key Tampans — including Mayor Dick Greco, promoter Bill Marcum, attorney Ed Rood and businessmen Chuck Smith and Leonard Levy. And especially Tom McEwen, the Tampa Tribune’s well connected, activist sports editor. It was McEwen, now retired, who had been instrumental in pushing for Tampa Stadium, without which there would have been no NFL interest of any kind.
To this day, McEwen is recognized for his uniquely invaluable yet controversial role in pushing Tampa’s NFL envelope. It comes with the oxymoronic territory of journalist-lobbyist. McEwen readily acknowledges the duality of his roles and the ethical fallout and once noted: “What I do, I do in good faith for both the paper and the community.” What isn’t up for debate was his catalytic role as a behind-the-scenes expediter and effective opinion-shaper in print and in public speaking.
In the aftermath of that seminal Redskins-Falcons game, McEwen was contacted by Rood. This would directly lead to the formation of the West Coast Pro Football Association, a private group with the avowed purpose of pursuing an expansion NFL franchise for Tampa. The die was cast; a strategy formulated. The campaign was on.
The WCPFA was further encouraged by the NFL’s increasing interest in expansion after the 1970 merger between the NFL and its erstwhile rival, the American Football League. Adding more franchises was one way to defuse bothersome anti-trust issues.
Carrol Rosenbloom, the owner of the Baltimore Colts, and Lamar Hunt, owner of the Kansas City Chiefs, pushed the hardest. The Pittsburgh Steelers’ Dan Rooney, son of owner Art Rooney, would eventually chair a formal expansion committee. Those three became influential, insider friends of the Tampa group.
The WCPFA wanted to reinforce this market’s track record of support with more exhibition games at Tampa Stadium. That meant serious networking among owners and league officials. It even meant “bluffing our way” on occasion, admitted McEwen. The WCPFA was on NFL schmooze control. Its main competition: Seattle, Memphis, Phoenix and, for a while, Honolulu.
“Fortunately, we’ve always had good sales people around here,” recently understated Greco.
The year was 1972.
Nixon was re-elected. “The French Connection” won “Best Picture” Oscar. Bobby Fisher routed Boris Spassky for the world chess title. The Dow-Jones Index closed above 1,000 for the first time.
And the Baltimore Colts came to town.
The WCPFA, led by Rood and Marcum, was able to take advantage of a controversy brewing in Baltimore over pre-season games included in season-ticket packages. The group guaranteed the sale of 26,000 three-game packages. Led by Greco and Marcum, who personally hawked tickets at the downtown University Club, the group easily exceeded 26,000.
That impressed Colts’ owner Rosenbloom enough to take his exhibition show on the road — and even intimate that it could be permanent. Doubtless it was classic leverage, but it did prompt lots of “Don’t Tamper With Our Colts!” bumper stickers. It also resulted in an important ally for Tampa.
So taken aback with the reception and support accorded the Colts, Rosenbloom stated that “Another city will get an expansion team first over my dead body.” Ironically, Rosenbloom swapped the Colts for the Los Angeles Rams while in Tampa. His allegiance, however, never wavered.
The year was 1974.
Watergate and impeachment. Debut of “streaking.” “The Sting” named “Best Picture.” Muhammad Ali “rope-a-doped” George Foreman in Zaire. Hank Aaron outhomered Babe Ruth.
And Tampa was awarded an NFL expansion franchise.
A Greater Tampa Chamber of Commerce task force, chaired by Levy, was by now the official expansion emissary of the city. “We just went to work,” said Levy. “Did a lot of politicking. And, yes, we had our share of local naysayers. Didn’t exactly have total establishment support. To some, this still looked like a reach for Tampa.”
With McEwen discreetly waiting in the wings, Levy, Greco, Chuck Smith, Tampa Sports Authority Executive Director Joe Zalupski and chamber official Earl Emmons formally pitched the expansion committee of staff people, Tampa-friendly owners and NFL Executive Director Jim Kensil.
“The NFL already had all the demographic data,” recalled Levy. “We talked about the stadium expansion (from 42,000 to 72,000), rental rates and training facilities. I also threw in our positive media. Kensil said, ‘I hope McEwen is part of your team.'”
The date was April 24. The time was 5:03 p.m. The site was New York’s Drake Hotel.
NFL Commissioner Pete Rozelle strode to a podium and announced: “The NFL voted today to expand to one city. That’s going to be Tampa, Florida.” Shortly thereafter, Seattle, which had some stadium details to iron out, was also voted in. They were the league’s 27th and 28th franchises.
“You kind of hold your breath until you actually hear the words,” said Levy. The Tampa group, however, had been tipped off via a (Cleveland Browns owner) Art Modell-to-George Steinbrenner-to-Tom McEwen communication. The only sobering note in that evening’s celebration was Greco breaking the news that he would be stepping down to join the DeBartolo organization.
The NFL would subsequently award ownership to Philadelphia builder Tom McCloskey. When his financial wherewithal unraveled, the league granted the, by now, “Tampa Bay” franchise to Hugh Culverhouse, a Jacksonville tax attorney. Culverhouse previously had wanted in on bidding for the Rams, who were subsequently swapped for the Colts franchise. Culverhouse was not pleased and wasn’t subtle about possible legal recourse. He was initially offered Seattle. He wanted Tampa Bay. He got it. For $16 million — $4 million in cash.
The following year “Buccaneers” was chosen as the team nickname. Runnerup: “Sailors.” Later in ’75, the creamsicle color scheme was selected along with the wimpy “Bucco Bruce” logo.
The year was 1976.
America’s Bicentennial. Jimmy Carter elected 39th president. “Rocky” was the movie surprise of the year, while “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” swept all five major Oscar awards. Alex Haley’s “Roots” topped non-fiction lists.
And the Bucs, beginning with a 20-0 loss to the Houston Oilers, went 0-14 to kick off the Blunder Years. Fans found out, however, that a very bad team could still have a very funny coach, John McKay, and a future Hall of Famer, defensive end Lee Roy Selmon.
In year two, the “Go for O” notoriety finally ended at 26 with a 33-14 victory over the New Orleans Saints.
“You know, it helps a community to have an image as winners, but at that time — despite Johnny Carson’s jokes — it didn’t matter that much,” assessed Levy. “I think that brought the area a lot more visibility than had we won a few games.”
Two years later the Bucs, going farther faster than any other expansion team, advanced to the NFC championship game, where they lost, 9-0, to the Rams.
The years were 1980-2002.
Lots of losses. Lots of frustration. Lots of derision. Lots of empty seats. Lots of scenarios.
Eventually, Malcolm Glazer. Tony Dungy. Community Investment Tax. Raymond James Stadiu
m. Pewter power. An 11-6 loss to the Rams for the 1999 NFC Championship.
Then Jon Gruden.
The year is 2003.
The Tampa Bay Buccaneers are in the Super Bowl. Tonight. Enjoy.
First the good news.
There’s no lack of public forums for mayoral candidates in this town. Voters, therefore, should know who — and what — they’re getting.
Neighborhood associations, from Carver City to Ybor City, host candidate conclaves on a seemingly daily basis. Chambers of commerce, the University of Tampa and various business and professional groups sponsor more such gatherings. Forums-R-Us. That should make for good democracy. Present yourself to the people, put it on the line and be accountable.
Now, the bad news.
To accommodate as many as six candidates, the response time to submitted queries is necessarily brief. Exhibit A: the recent luncheon sponsored by the Ybor City Chamber of Commerce at the Columbia Restaurant. It featured the four major candidates — Bob Buckhorn, Pam Iorio, Charlie Miranda and Frank Sanchez — plus arid activist Neil Cosentino and Don “Fit-Fun-Free-and-Functional” Ardell. With one minute for an opening, a closing and answers to three Ybor-related questions, it was a forum fit only for sound biting. The food was good; the food for thought much less so.
Consensus ruled. All candidates noted how valuable Ybor is as well as how vulnerable it is if the synergy with downtown and Channelside isn’t realized. Everyone wanted a better business mix in Ybor, and no one, presumably, wanted 7th Avenue turned into a teenaged vomitorium.
Not everyone, however, is equally adept at such faux forums. Charlie Miranda, for example.
“Plain Charlie” has lots of hands-on history around here. The chairman of City Council is also an infrastructure insider. He’s folksy, blunt, knowledgeable, relatively old school and relatively old. Arguably, he’s affected most by forum-lite. His three major, 40-something opponents are more media flexible.
With less than two months to go, these additional campaign trail snapshots:
*So far, Sanchez, who says he wants to be the city’s “Chief Vision Officer,” is the only candidate to incur any serious aspersions, even if typically indirect. Initially it was from both Miranda and Buckhorn over his failure to, in effect, pay his dues by not living here for more than 20 years. And putative help from influential friends of Dick Greco was characterized as dirty pool and a slap at Miranda, who had been close to Greco. They both had fun with his given “Francisco” name, implying that “Frank” was some politically expedient, mid-life reinvention.
Recently the thinly veiled criticism comes mostly from Buckhorn, who’s skewering Sanchez when he reminds audiences that “Vision without substance is an illusion” and that “Talk is cheap.” For good measure, there are periodic references to not needing “cue cards.” Buckhorn, with 16 years of City Hall-related experience, was an assistant to former Mayor Sandy Freedman before being elected to two City Council terms.
*Sanchez, Tampa-born and fluent in Spanish and Portuguese, is a professional negotiator and mediator who had never run for political office before. He seems to be adapting to the drive-by crucibles.
For openers, he works in his educational credentials and governmental experience without sounding snooty. If one must account for having been out of the local loop for two decades, it helps to reference Harvard, Bob Graham and the White House, as well as international contacts and business acumen. He’s also learned the value of bullet points when time is at a premium. His unique, beyond-the-bay background gives his “growing the economy” mantra a major measure of credibility and conviction. Notably on his game in this area.
*Street-smart Buckhorn is still the best debater. He’s been preparing himself for this job since he was a Freedman Administration aide. And he sounds it. His position papers are the standard for detail.
*Pam Iorio, the recently resigned supervisor of elections, hasn’t had to take an unpopular stand in 10 years. For many voters she is synonymous with good government and good character. Whoever criticizes her probably does it at his own peril. She is for excellence in everything — and can be as glib as the next guy.
*Don Ardell is not a serious candidate, but he’s a seriously funny one. A tedium buster with a nothing-to-lose, sometimes self-deprecating sense of humor. He typically follows Sanchez in alphabetical rotations. At an international business forum at UT, he acknowledged on several occasions that he was in total agreement with “everything that Frank Sanchez just said, so there’s no need for me to repeat it.” Brought the house down at a Plant High gathering by referencing the Gasparilla Parade as “A bunch of drunks in the streets, littering the place. What’s to be proud of?”
*Ardell has already won a “run-off.” It happened recently when the accomplished road runner and triathlete was working out at Coleman Middle School. When a P.E. class appeared, he asked the instructor if he wanted to motivate any of his students to “challenge the old guy.” A dozen or so took on the 64 year old — and were smoked at 220 yards.
Amid the hoopla over the Buccaneers, these final thoughts on the successful season that was at the University of South Florida.
*Head Coach Jim Leavitt got a hefty raise, but his new contract only carries a $50,000 buy-out clause. That means, regardless of his obvious fondness for this area and loyalty to USF, he’s year to year. And how close did he come to becoming the head coach of Alabama? One consummate insider, who was on the receiving end of a frantic, last-minute call from Alabama Athletics Director Mal Moore, said USF came “within about four hours” of losing Leavitt.
*Maybe it was a “make-up” call. Last month the cover of The New York Times Magazine featured USF gridders above the words: “How Football Can Crush A College.” Not satisfied with such subtlety, the story inside was titled: “Football Is A Sucker’s Game.” USF wasn’t so much singled out for notoriety as puzzlement. As in why would you aspire to major football renown? Football at that level, underscored the Times , is too often hypocritical, demeaning of what higher education is all about and a money-losing proposition.
Having said that, the Times’ Final Computer Ranking had USF 14th. In the country. Penn State was 19th, Notre Dame 20th. Florida and Florida State didn’t make the top 25.
*By the way, this was Bear Bryant’s response to a reporter who once questioned the role of football amid more pressing priorities at the University of Alabama: “It’s real hard to rally around the math department.” No, that quote never made it into the Times’ piece.
Here is why the Buccaneers will return home winners even though the road to the Super Bowl must course through the City of Brotherly Mug. I know, I know, the ultimate mettle-detector site — nasty, rat-infested, magistrate-and-jail fortified Veterans Stadium — awaits. As does complementary lousy weather. As does a throaty lot of drunk, cheesesteak-head vulgarians. Worse yet, many in this lynch mob that passes for Philly fandom will be armed with screwdrivers and wrenches to expedite souvenir hunting — one staggered step in front of the wrecking ball that will soon euthanize the decrepit Vet.
And most importantly, of course, a really good football team, the Philadelphia Eagles, also awaits.
But should the outcome be no different than the previous four — all Eagle wins — the Bucs won’t ultimately leave as losers. Win or not, the Bucs get to return here. Whatever the outcome, the “Iggles” have to stay there.
Gov. Jeb Bush has taken, arguably, more than his share of criticism from the usual quarters over jettisoning affirmative action in state university admissions. That liberal lobby won’t desist, of course, until meritocracy has been finally eliminated in higher education.
But couldn’t the minority-special-interest crowd at least stop carping long enough to acknowledge — let alone thank — the governor for his stand on Miriam Oliphant. He won’t fire the certifiably competence-challenged, black Broward County supervisor of elections.
She is paid a six-figure salary to serve as a beacon to all those whose aspirations, gall and sense of entitlement far exceed their abilities, ethics and sense of pride.
Not only did she botch the gubernatorial primary last year, but her legacy continues to expand to concerns about her financial management as well as questions about her office’s preparation for next month’s elections. She is a national embarrassment and a statewide scandal.
Gov. Bush, is, at best, an enabler for the affirmative tokenism crowd. At worst, he’s derelict in his duty. In effect, he is thwarting the will of the Broward County Commission who want Oliphant out. It is their county, after all, that she threatens to make another mockery and laughingstock out of. The commissioners want her gone, preferably last year. But it would require the governor’s help. He’d actually have to do the pinkslipping.
In trying not to offend minorities and others prone to defend the indefensible, Bush has embarrassed and discredited himself. He is not backing the Broward board’s wishes because there is no concrete evidence that Oliphant engaged in any INTENTIONAL wrongdoing.
Say what?
Isn’t merely being very bad in a very important job cause enough? Do you have to be a saboteur to be fired?
Bush is getting what he deserves in Broward. Not only is he not praised by civil rights careerists, he’s not respected by minorities who can tell pander from principle. He earns disgust from everyone else who see a duplicitous, politically expedient governor fearing a Mau-mauing for doing the right thing.
The residents of Broward, however, are not getting what they deserve. They’re still stuck with a supervisor of elections who is lousy — but apparently not on purpose.
So, the Weekly Planet gets a makeover. It has jettisoned its news staff and will concentrate on “more real, meaty stories about culture, broadly defined.” Those are the words, whatever they mean, of Neil Skene, senior vice president, group publisher. Out with the political muckraking and gadfly style and in with: “culture, broadly defined.”
So what’s next? An overhaul in advertising approach? Out with the escort ads, lingerie modeling, 900-number calls and kinky personals?
To replace full-time staffers with free-lancers is an obvious, even understandable, cost-cutting measure. But did it have to lobotomize itself in the process? Apparently going to staple binding wasn’t enough.