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Controlled chaos

You think the action on the field gets crazy? Check out what happens on the Bucs sideline during a game.

JOANNE KORTH
Published December 26, 2003

TAMPA - John Lynch cannot stand still, let alone sit.

When the Bucs defense heads for the sideline, Lynch takes off his helmet, puts on a ball cap and heads right back to the edge of the playing field to watch the offense.

Before long, someone yells his name.

"Lynch! Where's Lynch?"

Defensive coordinator Monte Kiffin is looking for the veteran safety and, as usual, he is nowhere near the bench, where the rest of the secondary sits to view aerial photos and make adjustments to the game plan. Kiffin shouts, just one more bit of noise added to the cacophony.

"They're always yelling for me, but I've never been able to sit down," Lynch said. "It's nervous energy."

The Bucs sideline is a bundle of it, a frenetic mix of players, coaches, trainers, equipment staff, video staff and get-back coaches - we'll get back to that later - buzzing around a box roughly 30 yards wide and 8 yards deep. Just at the edge of the action, life on an NFL sideline is constant motion and commotion.

"It's controlled chaos," linebacker Ryan Nece said. "You've got people standing all over the place, and everybody's got a responsibility, which is the amazing thing. They're doing a million different things. But it's like a roller coaster. Emotions are up and down on the sidelines, and the energy goes with the energy of the game. It's fun. It's a great place to be."

The Bucs sideline consists of two sets of benches, one for the offense and one for the defense. Facing the field, the defense is on the left, the offense on the right.

Seating is assigned.

Offensive linemen sit to the far right, in the same order as their positions on the field to make it easier for coach Bill Muir. Tight ends, receivers and running backs sit in groups, too. Only quarterback Brad Johnson sits apart, on a defensive bench in front of a fan and suitcase packed specially for him.

"I've always sat there in that same spot since I was a rookie up in Minnesota," said Johnson, who changes into a clean jersey, sweatbands and other articles after each quarter. "Stan Parrish, the quarterbacks coach, will come over and talk. Every now and then (coach Jon Gruden) will come over and talk. But that's always kind of been my spot."

On the defensive side, linemen sit to the far right, tackle Warren Sapp on the end. Linebackers have the middle, the secondary the far left. Ronde Barber, as the Bucs' senior defensive back, sits on the left end, according to a tradition started by Donnie Abraham.

"It would be (Lynch) if he was a sitting-on-the-bench kind of guy, but he's not," said Barber, a seven-year pro. "Corners run around so much, we've got to come and take a seat, try to relax. I watch the game on the JumboTron like I'm watching it on TV. If it gets exciting I'll stand. But the majority of the game I'm catching a breath or getting a drink - the calm between the storms."

The only players without a specific place to be are the specialists. Kicker Martin Gramatica and long snapper Ryan Benjamin move from empty bench to empty bench. Punter Tom Tupa strolls around and occasionally kicks into a net at the corner of the box to stay loose.

"I'm not a guy who goes and sits on the bench a lot," Tupa said. "I stay involved and watch the offense, kick a few into the net, walk around and stay loose. That's about it. It's kind of boring, now that I think about it."

On any sideline the players and coaches are easy to identify. But what about all those other people running around? Who are they, and what are they doing?

You name it.

"There's NFL-employed people who are working the game," Gruden said, "down-and-distance people to hold the markers, trainers, managers, people managing the headsets. And there are two or three mysterious people that you don't quite know who they are or what they do. They must be good friends of somebody's friend."

Equipment manager Tim Sain and his staff of seven patrol the area looking for everything from rips in jerseys - needle and thread are handy - to broken chin strap buckles. Assistant equipment manager Mark Meschedy is ready for any glitch in the headset communication system.

"I walk around with a helmet that is an exact replica of Brad's helmet, and I usually put it to my ear and listen to the play," Meschedy said. "If I see Coach talking and I don't hear it, that's when I spring into action. I have a checklist of what could have gone wrong. And while Coach is screaming in my right ear, I'm thinking in my left."

Trainer Todd Toriscelli and his staff are a traveling triage unit, treating strains, sprains, bruises and cuts, rolling reams of tape around ankles, knees and elbows.

The back of the sideline is more reserved, with the intensity level increasing closer to the field. Every now and then Gruden gets so caught up in calling plays he forgets he's not allowed to march downfield with his offense.

"You're not allowed to get beyond the 30-yard line, which I've been guilty of several times," he said. "You're wandering down there with your team calling a game, and all of a sudden you're at the 18-yard line. And you've got people wanting to escort you out of the stadium."

Because no one wants to lose valuable yards to a sideline violation, every team has someone called a "get-back" coach, the unofficial title of the staff member responsible for keeping players and coaches from spilling onto the field during intense moments.

"That's the hardest job in all of football, telling Simeon Rice and Warren Sapp and some of these guys to back up," Gruden said. "They don't want to hear it."

With all the noise - cheering fans, screaming coaches, blaring music - who could hear anything? Nothing rivals the action on the field, but the sideline is a bustling, emotional, efficient, tense and messy place like no other.

"It's sort of organized, but it can be chaotic," Gruden said. "You're talking to the defense, and all of a sudden there's a change, a fumble or an interception. And you've got guys going every place. Brad Johnson needs a whole section to himself to change clothes and change hats and change underwear.

"There's some wild scenes down there."

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