Category: Sports

Call it the tale of two teams.

Once the very definition of ineptitude, the Buccaneers have been good for a while and now there are none better. Once the very essence of awful, the Lightning have been good for a season and now have earned credibility with a playoff run.

The Bucs, who played hardball to legally extort a cushy stadium deal, are making money hand over Glazer fist. Thousands are on waiting lists for season tickets and Pewter Partners keep queuing up. The team, playing and winning in the best facility in the country, is worth more than three times what the Glazers paid for it.

Moreover, the Bucs are part of the National Football League, a blatant exception to the typical tenets of the free enterprise system. Other than the NFL, where can you find somebody else to train your personnel and build your place of business and then be assured of making a profit — irrespective of product quality — by dividing up an obscenely large pool of network television cash? And all teams are limited in what they can spend by an overhead governor — a league-wide salary cap. Hey, is this a great subset of capitalism or what?

The Lightning, however, continue to hemorrhage dollars. As an organization, it is a light year removed from the Duke of Manchester and female-goalie days. But the Bolts still play in the National Hockey League, which rakes in relative chump change in its TV deals. As a result, almost no one makes a profit. The Lightning aren’t yet close. In fact, the team owner, Palace Sports & Entertainment, claims to have lost more than $30 million on its hockey and arena operations for the fiscal year ending last June. This year will obviously be better, but that only means less loss.

As reigning Super Bowl champs, the Bucs have been wined, dined, feted and fawned over. Ostensibly, it doesn’t get any better. The days of the Glazers being called greedy carpetbaggers playing franchise roulette with the city and its taxpayers are history. For all their fumbling, the Glazers made a sound business decision and shelled out $8 million for Jon Gruden. A Super Bowl season and a parade later, all was forgiven.

Until the Glazers decided to reprise revenge of the rich nerds.

Maybe it’s like the scorpion that couldn’t help stinging the duck upon whose back it was depending for passage across a river. Or like some politicians who can’t help going negative. Or a Soprano in schlep’s clothing: “Nothing personal, just business.”

It’s their nature.

This recent flap over not signing off on the transfer of Raymond James Stadium ownership to the county is vintage Glazer. The Bucs say they won’t sign until the Tampa Sports Authority ponies up for extra costs on insurance and security that weren’t foreseen in the original, munificent, 1996 lease agreement.

The Bucs aren’t necessarily wrong in their legal take, but they are unnecessarily insistent that this was worth drawing “a line in the sand” during challenging economic times for local governments. Taking one for Team Tampa is apparently not an option, because it’s not good business. Good will and good PR aren’t incentive enough.

The Glazers, it appeared, had it all a couple of months ago. As it turned out, they never got it at all. Some things money can’t buy.

Meanwhile at the erstwhile Ice Palace, signs were manifest recently that the Bolts are getting it on the ice. Before their loudest and largest Tampa crowd ever — more than 21,000 — the Bolts defeated the favored Washington Capitals, 2-1, in game five of their East quarterfinal series.

Especially noteworthy was that the Bolts passed the O’Neill litmus test. That raucous crowd included this normally detached fan and his yoga-instructor spouse, who wouldn’t know a poke check from a pork chop.

But guess who was yelling for an “icing” call against the Caps by game’s end? Guess who also took the percussive brunt of a pair of “ThunderStix” that all fans were armed with? Guess who will also take a couple more upside the head after this column?

Athletic Director Lee Roy Selmon, a gentleman and a football icon with an expressway named after him, is now putting his own stamp on sports at the University of South Florida. With the departure of head basketball coach Seth Greenberg to Virginia Tech, Selmon will be judged by the success of the program under his first prominent hire, Robert McCullum, the former head coach of Western Michigan.

Heretofore, Selmon has merely maintained what predecessor Paul Griffin, who was forced to step down two years ago, bequeathed him.

For too long USF has settled for mediocrity in basketball. A good crowd is a half-full Sun Dome. A good season is one with NIT possibilities. A good recruiting class never includes local blue chips. A rarity is a game played with discipline and composure or a whole year without somebody getting suspended. The juxtaposition with football, which jumpstarted into national prominence, couldn’t be more stark.

Selmon actually missed the opportunity to make his own mark by previously extending the underachieving Greenberg’s contract. That arched more than a few eyebrows among those who still care about — and support — the program. But Greenberg forced his hand by leaving of his own volition.

With the ball in his own court, Selmon chose McCullum. It’s his signature hire.

The Buccaneers, as we now know, will open the 2003 season on Monday night, Sept. 8, in Philadelphia. It’s a rematch of the 2002 NFC Championship Game, when the Bucs defeated the Eagles, 27-10.

As we also know, the Bucs are not pleased.

NFL protocol has been allowing the defending Super Bowl champ to open at home. In fact, the last six defending Super Bowl champions hosted the first Monday night game after their NFL title season. As for the ’03 Bucs, not only do they have to hit the road, they have to hit it against a rugged, grudge-match rival debuting its new stadium for its cheesesteak-head, mutant fans.

“I don’t see why we need to break that trend,” wondered Bucs’ head coach Jon Gruden. “We sure would’ve liked to have played (the first Monday night game) at home. But we’ll show up and play, and we’ll make no excuses.”

What you might not know, however, is that a lot of folks in Philadelphia — excluding Eagles’ owner Jeff Lurie — aren’t particularly pleased either. Check out the disgruntled take of Philadelphia Daily News columnist Rich Hoffman.

“A home opener against Tampa Bay? In the first regular season game at Lincoln Financial Field? Are you kidding me?” rhetorically asked Hoffman.

“The Bucs are coming in for the opener, courtesy of schedule-making-by-de-Sade,” bemoaned Hoffman. “Think about what your summer is going to be like now. Every time you look back at what might have been, you will see Tampa Bay and feel that ache in your heart. Every time you look ahead to what’s coming next, you will see Tampa Bay and feel that ache in your heart. There will be no escaping it.”

Even an Eagles victory would be scant consolation, noted Hoffman.

“Winning will not shine a light on anything but what was blown in January,” Hoffman explained. “Winning will show the Bucs as a team the Eagles can beat in cold weather or warm weather, under the sun or the stars, a team they can beat anywhere and everywhere — unless it’s for the conference championship.

“Winning, in fact, will breed melancholy.”

Otherwise, bring it on.

And that’s what ABC, the MNF network that obviously called this shot, will do. And ABC, at least, is very pleased.

The Buccaneers, as we now know, will open the 2003 season on Monday night, Sept. 8, in Philadelphia. It’s a rematch of the 2002 NFC Championship Game.

As we also know, the Bucs aren’t pleased.

NFL protocol has been allowing the defending Super Bowl champ to open at home, let alone on the road against a rugged, grudge-match rival debuting its new stadium. In fact, the last six defending Super Bowl champions hosted the first Monday night game after their NFL title season.

“I don’t see why we need to break that trend,” wondered Buc’s head coach Jon Gruden. “We sure would’ve liked to have played (the first Monday night game) at home. But we’ll show up and play, and we’ll make no excuses.”

What you might not know, however, is that the Eagles, except for owner Jeff Lurie, aren’t particularly pleased either. Check out the take of Philadelphia Daily News columnist Rich Hoffman.

“A home opener against Tampa Bay? In the first regular-season game at Lincoln Financial Field? Are you kidding me?” rhetorically asked Hoffman.

“The Bucs are coming in for the opener, courtesy of schedule-making-by-de-Sade,” bemoaned Hoffman. “Think about what your summer is going to be like now. Every time you look back at what might have been, you will see Tampa Bay and feel that ache in your heart. Every time you look ahead to what’s coming next, you will see Tampa Bay and feel that ache in your heart. There will be no escaping it

The University of South Florida has made it clear over the years that a rivalry with the University of Central Florida was not a priority. That’s too bad, especially in football, where the upstart USF program has no natural rivalries, including all the teams in Conference USA.

Even though USF has been hugely successful — and nationally ranked last year — it still struggles to draw 30,000 to home games at the country’s finest facility, Raymond James Stadium. UCF, the I-4 corridor counterpart, would be a perfect non-conference complement. An actual, no-love-lost, heated rivalry looms. A low-budget, big home-and-home draw that the teams can shuttle to by bus.

Perhaps the scheduling planets are finally aligning. Within the last two weeks, USF has had two teams — Baylor University and Eastern Michigan — drop USF from their 2003 schedules. Baylor was to play here on Sept. 20, while EMU was to host USF on Sept. 13. USF, with only nine games out of the 12 allowed, is scrambling to fill two home slots and one on the road.

UCF now sees an opportunity that’s long been thwarted. It’s willing to allow USF to replace it in a Sept. 20 game at Syracuse. UCF would then make it up by playing USF — at RayJay — on Sept. 6.

Obviously, Syracuse will have something to say about this. If SU agrees, it’s up to USF, which so far is only committing itself to exploring its options.

For a lot of reasons, USF can’t afford to be the deal breaker.

How’s this for irony, if not chutzpah and denial? Here’s what the Devil Rays’ overpaid, over-the-hill Greg Vaughn said this week to a reporter: “I had a couple of bad years there, and nobody feels worse about it than I do. Things didn’t work out. Why? I wish I knew. But I think my track record is better than Chuck’s (LaMar) track record.”

In order:

*”Nobody feels worse about it” than Vaughn?

Say what? Vaughn’s feelings were amply assuaged by a guaranteed $34-million, four-year contract. The Rays have gotten little (an average .226, 20 home runs and 61 RBI’s a year for the first three years) for a lot, which helped hamstring the organization’s flexibility to improve the on-field product. This year included. Had Vaughn, say, given back what he didn’t earn, he would be entitled to a spate of melancholy — as well as a chorus of thank you’s from the Rays and their frustrated fans.

*”I wish I knew” why things “didn’t work out.”

Vaughn need only ask all those around him. They see a player past his prime who has lost bat speed — and never was a good defensive player. A series of nagging injuries certainly hurt. The reality is that older players — such as the 37-year-old Vaughn — are more prone to injuries and less likely to recover in timely fashion, if at all.

*”

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.

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.

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.

For a 40-something institution, the University of South Florida has come very far, very fast.

One key barometer is that USF — with an enrollment of more than 39,000 students — is among the 20 largest universities in the country — and second in the Southeast. Another is that this prototypical metropolitan university of the 21st century is now exceeding $200 million annually in sponsored research. Its endowment is $218 million. In 1982 it was $4 million.

Then there are the world class reputations earned from (Alzheimer’s research at) the Roskamp Institute and the H. Lee Moffitt Cancer Center and Research Institute as well as recognized areas of expertise in oceanography and aging. It’s well documented that USF is becoming a high-tech linchpin, a biotech bellwether and a key component in the fight against terrorism with its Center for Biological Defense.

Then six years ago, it fielded its first football team. This year it was bowl eligible.

We all know that renown in alternative fuel polymers is more important, but as a rite of higher educational passage to the Big Time, can you beat bowl eligibility?

Unfortunately, eligibility didn’t translate into an invitation, but that’s understandable, even if infuriating. This was USF’s last year of unaffiliated football independence, and that made all the difference. Bowl selections are typically not a matter of pure merit, but rather a function of conference tie-ins and economic impact-driven, chamber of commerce priorities. USF joins Conference USA in football next year and will no longer incur these sorts of scenarios.

Frankly, if USF were playing either Florida or Florida State this Saturday at the RayJay, it would be a “pick ’em” game. Last Sunday’s New York Times’ “Top 25” is illustrative. There was the requisite one-two of Miami and Ohio State and other household names in descending order after them. But at 19 — between Texas and Virginia and ahead of West Virginia, Auburn and, uh, FSU — was USF. Its BCS ranking is 24. Heady stuff for Tampa’s erstwhile “Drive-Thru U” and the days of Homecoming soccer games.

But for all the attention and acclaim generated by its football team, USF eventually will see — in retrospect — that 2002 was more than a season of nine or 10 games won, national respect garnered and a bowl bid earned — even if not proffered. It will also be the year of innocence lost.

It comes with success — and a bar raised very high very quickly. Will anything less than a blitzkrieg through Conference USA and a representative bowl game next year be considered disappointing? Will a RayJay crowd of less than 30,000 for, say, East Carolina be acceptable?

And then there’s the reality of having a head coach, Jim Leavitt, who is becoming a hot commodity in the marketplace. Peers with half his success are making more than twice as much. Leavitt, locally rooted and the only head coach the program has known, is salaried at $140,000 this season; it escalates to $220,000 in 2005. Once Athletic Director Lee Roy Selmon gets off schmooze control with the bowls, he will take up the renegotiation of Leavitt’s contract. Local media have already mounted a soapbox to lecture USF on how important it is to do “whatever it takes” to keep Leavitt here.

Coincidentally, USF President Judy Genshaft is also up for a raise. She has been at USF for two years and makes a base of $237,000 a year. All indications are that she too is below market — and that USF trustees are preparing a big boost.

That means USF is now poised to meet the final criterion of university heavyweight. It will be paying its football coach more — possibly a lot more — than its president. Pigskins over polymers?

Prepare for a professorial chorus of “skewed priorities” and rhetorical questions about what a university is for. It’s part of the growth process.