Look carefully.

At first glance, you’re attracted to the beautiful red and white stripes of the American flag.  You sense an immediate rush of patriotism.  You can probably even hear the jet fighters flying overhead (unless, of course, you’re in a dome).  Or perhaps the first thing you first notice is the guy’s shaved head at the bottom right of the photo.

Now take another look. 

Ah yes, Giants players in uniform.  My friend took this picture during the national anthem of the Giants-Buccaneers game back in January, a game which the Bucs dominated for fifteen minutes until the eventual Super Bowl champions lit up the vaunted Bucs defense for 24 points in three quarters before going on their storybook run.

Looking again at the picture…

 Oh, cool, I see Eli Manning, Super Bowl MVP, and a couple other Giants players.  Wait, who’s that standing to his right.  Wait, that…. that’s David Tyree.

Very nice!  You mean the duo that hooked up for what can arguably be considered the greatest play in Super Bowl history?  Funny how pictures work sometimes, huh?  Do you think these two had ANY indication at this point in time what they were destined to combine for only 28 days later?

Like I said, my die-hard Giants fan friend, who snapped this photo and who has been compulsively watching Sportscenter, Around the Horn and PTI reruns since Sunday night, spotted this eerie picture, then immediately called me to let me know that he and I were among the first to witness Super Bowl greatness one month before it happened.

Crystal ball time.  For my next trick, I will now predict this year’s college basketball national champions.  I just need to rummage through my photo album first.

Invariably, if you attend any Buccaneers home game, you’ll encounter pewter-clad fans donning jerseys of their favorite, hometown heroes, just as you would in any NFL stadium on any given Sunday around the county.  In Tampa, without question, the most common jersey you’ll run into is that of Mike Alstott, who for some reason appears to have become a sort of cult hero in the Bay Area.  In fact, at a game I attended earlier this season, the Bucs had the ball first-and-goal, about to score, and an ornery fan behind me shouted out “PUT IN ALSTOTT!!!”  Never mind that Alstott sat out the entire 2007 season with a neck injury.  Maybe he hadn’t gotten that memo.  The “Put In Alstott” line at Raymond James has become akin to someone requesting that a band play “Free Bird” at your local dive bar.

But I digress.

Recently, Mike Alstott announced his retirement from the game of football due to the aforementioned, debilitating neck injury.  And I wish him well.  His off-the-field accomplishments in the Tampa Bay area are worthy of mention as the Michael Alstott Family Foundation has been extremely active in helping out local children in need.  The A-Train was also significant part of the Buccaneers 2002-03 Super Bowl season, but let’s please keep things in perspective… so was Joe Jurevicious.

As a Buccaneers fan, I’m intrigued by the city’s love affair with Mike Alstott.  Do they not remember the countless, timely fumbles or how they aptly christened him Mike “All-Drop?”  Alstott boasts 23 career fumbles on 1359 career carries.  That totals to a fumble every 59 attempts, not exactly Hall of Fame material.  In comparison, Warrick Dunn who ran alongside Alstott for five years fumbled the ball every 124 carries.  Yes, Dunn is a more elusive runner and yes, Alstott ran between the tackles more.  But so did Jerome Bettis, a sure-fire HOFer, who by comparison only fumbled the ball once every 160 carries. Yet I get this sneaky su####ion, Raymond James Stadium will hang Alstott’s numbers in its rafters.  The Bucs have retired only one number in their history, Lee Roy Selmon’s # 63.  Does Alstott’s career warrant the same merit as 1979’s all-defensive player of the year?  Does Alstott’s career even compare to what Derrick Brooks and Ronde Barder have contributed to the team over the years?

Yes, Mike Alstott is the leading all-time touchdown scorer for Tampa Bay, mainly because Dunn or other running backs would run the length of the field only to have the coaches then give the ball to the A-Train for the score (and the fantasy points).  But does that justify Alstott’s near god-like status in Florida’s city by the bay? Derrick Brooks has been the foundation of what has consistently been among the top defenses in the league for over a decade and Alstott jerseys outnumber Brooks jerseys ten-to-one.

I’m not playing the race card, I promise.  Or at least I think I’m not.  Fans like who they like for whatever reasons, right or wrong, but I think we’re witnessing a little revisionist history with Mike Alstott.  Can someone kindly explain Tampa Bay’s fascination with All Things Dropped?  This is not a hate blog.  I, for one, congratulate Mike Alstott for being a mainstay in the Tampa Bay community and for having a prosperous career with the Buccaneers.  That doesn’t mean he needs to have his number retired.

There’s something to be said for sportsmanship…. just not at a Buccaneers game.

This past Sunday afternoon, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers hosted the New York GEEEEEEE-Men in the new sombrero. To much of Tampa’s dismay, the Giants came out victorious in this match-up to advance in the NFL playoffs, leaving Buccaneer management with some difficult off-season decisions about their future.

On paper, the Giants were, and are, the better team.  That translated onto the field.  The Giants were underdogs going into that game, but you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who took the Bucs and laid the points.  If they played that game again, the Giants would win it again.

Anyway, I had the pleasure of attending this game with a life-long friend, who happens to be a Giants fan born and bred.  We had talked about him flying down for weeks, hadn’t seen each other in a while and landed some great tickets from the same person who scored those Police concert tickets not long ago.  Much thanks!  My friend, Jason, was appropriately decked out in full Giants regalia, rockin’ the Strahan jersey with more Giants gear layered underneath.

Since we’re like brothers, and by kick-off quite whiskey-infused, he and I were going at it ALL day.  When the Bucs got off to a fast start and the Giants failed to move the ball in the first quarter, I heckled him, and Eli, mercilessly.  But as the Bucs’ hopes started to fade later in the game, the Giants fans in the stadium became progressively louder.

Now sure, we were being a touch rowdy (this was an NFL playoff game, wasn’t it?), but trust me, my friend is from New Jersey and I have seen him WAY more obnoxious…. which brings me to my point.

After the Giants won, Jason went down to the front rows to celebrate with other Giants fans.  The guy seated to his left, who sported a John #### jersey (no longer on the Bucs, mind you), looked at me and said in total seriousness “I can’t believe you!  You call yourself a Bucs fan?”

I looked at him in amazement, wondering what he was talking about.  I hadn’t even spoken a word to this guy all game.  He then asked how I could bring a Giants fan to a Buccaneers playoff game.  As if the Bucs' inadequate offense was a direct correlation to my friend's seat assignment.  Huh?  Did I miss something?  I asked him what he was talking about, telling him that J and I grew up together.

“Yeah, but your boy was obnoxious,” he went on, by that point, almost bowing up to me.  Now I was about a pint and a half of whiskey in and was hardly about to back down to this putz.  I told him to look around as there were at least 10,000 other obnoxious Giant fans around.  They’re Giants fans… that’s what they do. 

“Yeah, but you encouraged him.”  I told that bonehead that J’s my best friend and I was merely congratulating him on his victory.  I’ll be darned if I’m going to let some stranger mess with my family, or my character.

I mean, you’ve got to me kidding me.  We’re all avid sports fans but…. this is a game we’re talking about here, right?  Is there something wrong with congratulating a friend, an opponent, or someone you don’t even know who roots for the opposing team on a hard-fought victory??   Do you hear Gambit insulting Pete_Nice improperly?  Or Marty Walker and Bayoudog talking about each other’s families?

The guy continued on, but I kept my senses and wasn’t about to stoop to his level.  When I met my friend in the aisle later on, he couldn’t believe it, laughing and telling me “Are you kidding me??  That guy was from Jersey!!"

So there you have it, friends.  Another episode of how fan-hood can go horribly wrong.  Remember, Bucs fans, to the Geeeee-Men faithful, we’re still an expansion team.  And it showed on Sunday… on the field and in the stands.  While Giants fans proudly sported Harry Carson jerseys, the best we could come up with was Mike Alstott. 

Folks, let’s keep things in perspective here.  Players shake hands with one another post-game to celebrate competition and fair play.  Sport exists to remind us what truly matters… sportsmanship and courtesy, not resentment, anger or bitterness.

So the next time your team loses and you’re among strangers, try elevating YOUR game and recognize that you’re among fellow human beings with family and friends.  You might just turn your loss into a well-earned victory.

Nothing is forever.

Even the longest streaks of futility eventually come to an end.  I refer not to the Dolphins beating Baltimore to end their winless season, but rather an NFL drought that lasted over thirty years.

This Sunday, when Michael Spurlock returned an Atlanta Falcon kick all the way to pay dirt, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers ceremoniously put an end to their ineffective kick-off return streak.

Never before in franchise history had a Buccaneer player returned a kick-off for a touchdown.  The stretch lasted 512 games and over 1800 attempts.  141 opposing players had run back kicks against the Bucs in the same time frame.  It hung over the franchise like a dirty secret.  Local radio broadcasters would announce it prior to every kickoff, almost laughingly assuming it could never happened.  They can now remove that spiel from their radio format.  Spurlock will go down in the local history books, as should his special teams coaches, who if you look carefully, were sprinting along the sidelines ecstatically at nearly the same pace.

Every single fan among the 65,000+ at Raymond James (including myself) knew it was about to happen when Spurlock broke an early tackle mid-field, then found a hole along the right sideline.  The return was nearly as exciting as, and set the precedent for, the Buccaneer’s third division title under head coach John Gruden.

So sleep easy tonight, Cubs fans, for all bad things must come to an end.