December 21, 2003
THE PARTY'S OVER
Well, it's official: The Tampa Bay Buccaneers are done. I went to the Atlanta Falcons game yesterday, I knelt over the team's moribund body, pressed the back of my hand against its lips to see if I could detect even the shallowest of breath and, having found only a slight hiccup of activity, declared it dead.
Unlike last season's blaze of glory, this year has been not unlike watching a once healthy goldfish strangle in its own environment. These guys had all the talent and coaching a team could want. Enough resources to make Solomon blush. And in the end they screwed themselves into the ground with amateurish mistakes, blown opportunities and a complete loss of composure and mental toughness.
But it was still fun to go to the game yesterday. My cousin called to offer to take my son and I to the game and we jumped at the chance. Especially since it was probably Warren Sapp's last game as a Buc.
And, until the time we lost, of course, everyone seemed to be in the holiday spirit:
The open container laws in Tampa are, to put it mildly, relaxed on game day.
Yes, that's a rhinocerous horn. And yes, that's tinsel on the end of it. What, you were expecting a wreath?
These guys once picked my mother off the ground when I asked them to take a photo with her. They roam the stadium like ambassadors of quan.
It was nice to see Carrot Top being so approachable.