Tough week, you say? Still have visions of Marvin Harrison running deep patterns through your soul?
Look at it this way. In Indianapolis, they're having a heck of a time.
It has been a difficult few days, hasn't it? You keep having that nasty dream about Tim Wansley defending the national treasury, don't you?
On the other hand, they're yukking it up in Green Bay.
Yessir, the Bucs' stumbles this season might be the sole reason for dark clouds around Tampa Bay, but nationally, there seems to be a different reaction to the Bucs' discomfort.
Let's see. If you were going to sum it up, you'd put it this way: Whee!
The Bucs, it seems, have discovered the perfect way to make America happy. All they have to do is be unhappy. They blow another kickoff coverage, and widespread giggling is reported in St. Louis. They miss an extra point, and confetti falls in Philadelphia. They lose another game in overtime, and people in San Francisco get so excited they'll vote for anyone for governor.
Gee. you don't suppose that some people might not like the Bucs, do you? That is, unless they're prone.
Who would have thought it? The Bucs, that fuzzy puppy of a franchise that never bit anyone, have turned into varlets, villains and vultures. They're a team of lightning rods, heat magnets and dynamite caps.
They are today's Raiders, today's Cowboys, today's Bears. Either you want them to be Super, or you want them to suffer. Those appear to be the choices.
This is what happens on the other side of success. A team that wins too much is like a song that's played too often. What was fresh becomes familiar, and players turn into personalities, and suddenly it is no longer the team that beat up the neighborhood bully. It is the bully.
That's part of what is going on here. The Bucs have been successful enough that, along the way, they've stepped on a few toes.
The other part is this: The Bucs remain a team of personalities, a motley mix of party crashers who think a lot of themselves and very little of what you think of that. They're arrogant. They're cocky. They talk. They dance. They pose. They have opinions.
In other words, the Bucs are a strong taste. And some opposing fans have trouble swallowing them. Let's face it: Some home fans have to reach for the Pepto every now and then.
So here we are. Yesterday, everyone seemed amused by the Bucs' swagger. Today, critics seem to wait for them to lose so they can suggest they walk funny.
"It's the American psyche," defensive end Simeon Rice said. "People will cheer for you on the way up, but once you get there, they want you to fall. That's just the way people are."
Oh, the Bucs have a few targets, don't they?
There is Warren Sapp, recently voted the No. 1 enemy of the state of the Wisconsin, which is a dandy thing to put on a business card. Sapp doesn't appear to be too popular in the nation's capital, either. Last week, Redskins linebacker LaVar Arrington growled in the general direction of Tampa Bay, warning Sapp that he'd better not bother to skip-to-his-Lou through the Redskins' warmups, by golly. Not only that, but he shouldn't bother to line up on offense, either.
There is Keyshawn Johnson, who was mocked all last week for the way he mocked Harrison, just before Harrison made a mockery of the Bucs secondary. This is much different from the uproar Keyshawn caused when he not only supported 49ers receiver Terrell Owens in his outburst against an assistant coach, but suggested Owens should have slugged the guy.
There is coach Jon Gruden, of course, who has dared to lose two overtime games already this season, darn him. Gruden seems to outrage a lot of people because the television cameras capture every one of his 40 dozen grimaces per game. Also, Gruden is young, rich, successful and looks about 14, and who can stomach that? This is true: An e-mailer last week suggested that Gruden was too emotional and that "the emotional guys fold in the clutch." Quick review: Gruden's team did win the Super Bowl last season, right?
There is Rice, the ethereal defensive end who marches to his own drumbeat. This season, Rice pointed out that "there is no "I' in team, but there is a "me.' "
For that matter, there is even placekicker Martin Gramatica, who has found his way under the saddle of Todd Sauerbrun of the Panthers. When your kicker starts to annoy people, your team is officially dressed in black hats.
Let's recap: Sapp vs. Arrington. Johnson vs. Harrison. Gramatica vs. Sauerbrun. What's next? Is Tiki going to rip Ronde?
Even NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue seems vexed by the Bucs. Last week, he ruled that Sapp can't skip, which goes along with Rice not being able to leap.
That's the way it goes. Every Buc seems to rankle someone. Sapp failing to get a sack? Johnson failing to score a touchdown? Why, that's entertainment.
Which leaves Tampa Bay in this amusing position: Even in today's game, against a Redskins team that includes owner Dan Snyder, coach Steve Spurrier and Arrington the Defender, the Bucs are considered the team with the egos.
What is a Bucs fan to do, then, when he finds out he's pulling for a team with Darth Vader and Hannibal Lecter and Genghis Kahn and Jack the Ripper? The League of Dastardly Ruffians, if you will?
Well, he could listen to the words of Derrick Brooks.
"If they want you to lose, that's a sign of respect," Brooks said.
And he's right. No one cares if a Bengals player dances through your warmups. You just figure he's lost. No one worries what a Lions receiver says. No one thinks about whether the Cardinals coach, whoever he is, makes faces on the sideline.
There are a lot of fans in other cities who hate the Bucs.
