End of the line for the A-Train?

Today likely marks Mike Alstott's last game

By Rick Stroud
Published December 31, 2006

It is the picture you always will have of Mike Alstott: struggling to move forward, stubbornly refusing to stop. However, this time, there is no end zone to tell him when to quit. After 11 seasons, it's apparent that the A-Train will make its last run today against the Seahawks. Sitting in an interview room at the Bucs' new training facility last week, Alstott lowered his head and braced for the impending collision with the end of his career. "I've got to look at it as my last game," Alstott said. His eyes began to turn red and fill with tears. For several seconds, his chest heaved. And he sobbed.

At 33, Alstott probably still could be the Bucs fullback for another season or two. He is not under contract for 2007 after signing one-year deals for the past two seasons.

But Alstott has a wife, Nicole, and three young children along with a restaurant and several real estate projects in Tampa Bay.

A neck injury three years ago nearly ended his career, and doctors debated if he should resume cracking heads after the vertebrae of a cadaver was fused to his spine.

Balance always has been one of Alstott's biggest strengths on the field. And he is aware how important it will be when he retires.

"We've talked a lot about that lately," said tight end Dave Moore, who co-owns the Island Way Grill restaurant on Clearwater Beach with Alstott. "It's better to walk away a year too early than to limp away a year too late.

"That's why I think this is probably it for Mike."

Alstott admits nothing can replace the rush of adrenaline that comes from the roar of the crowd or the goose bumps he still gets when the freight train whistle blows as he runs onto the field at Raymond James Stadium for warmups.

"It's hard to say no," Alstott said. "It's hard to step away from something that you've been playing since you were 6 or 7 years old."

'Just a normal guy'

It will be equally hard for Buccaneers fans to let go of Alstott. Their love affair began in 1996, when the 248-pound wrecking ball from Purdue blasted through all obstacles as the team's primary weapon.

The attraction isn't hard to understand. Alstott handles himself on the field, in interviews and during encounters with fans with class. No showy end zone dances or chest-thumping theatrics when he scores a touchdown, as he has done a team-record 71 times.

Fans can't relate to a player who runs a 4.2 40-yard dash such as Joey Galloway. But at 5 feet 11 and not particularly fast, Alstott could be the guy you work out next to at the gym.

"He's just a normal guy," Moore said. "And everybody sees a piece of themselves in the way he plays and the way he runs. He takes a pounding and runs guys over. He's not going to go by anybody or jump over anybody. He's just going to put his head down and run somebody over."

Even Alstott's teammates are astonished at the reaction he can elicit from a 3-yard run.

"I'm sure it (ticks) some people off around here," cornerback Ronde Barber said. "But, hey, when you're an icon, you're an icon, right?"

There's little debate that Alstott is the most popular player in Buccaneers history. Just count the No. 40 jerseys in the seats. Not even Hall of Fame defensive end Lee Roy Selmon or linebacker Derrick Brooks, likely a Hall of Famer, elicit as much emotion.

"For as long as I've been here, and I'm sure for a couple of years after I'm gone, there won't be anybody (whose name) says Tampa Bay Buccaneers bigger than Mike Alstott," Barber said. "Just for who he is as a personality and what he has done on the field. He's gotten a whole area to love Buccaneer football because of him. There's something to be said for that."

Consummate pro

Ever since Alstott's arrival, coaches have had trouble identifying exactly what he was. Is he a tailback in a fullback's body? Or a fullback who can cut, move and catch like a tailback?

One season, he even worked at tight end.

What makes Alstott so unique for a man his size is his cat-like balance and feet that never stop moving.

"He really has an uncanny sense of balance," Moore said. "His center of gravity is so low, and his feet almost look like hands."

Alstott is something of a throwback. He understands his success depends on 10 other guys doing their jobs. He has plenty of money, yet he doesn't seek fame. He enjoys sweating and bleeding with teammates and the camaraderie of the locker room after a win.

"It's the guys in the locker room," Alstott said. "It's coming off that practice field. It's coming out of that game and talking and laughing about things and being a part of something. It's in that locker room, for whatever time you have, to talk about situations and laugh about it or cry about it. We're all one. We're all trying to accomplish that one feeling."

For five seasons, Alstott shared the backfield with Warrick Dunn. Both had episodes when they could have squawked about getting more carries. Instead, they learned to complement each other. Alstott was thunder to Dunn's lightning.

"He's a pretty normal guy," Moore said. "He's not real verbal. If he was more verbal, you'd hear more opinions. But he kind of hides and keeps to himself, and I think that makes him special like he is. A lot of times, talking isn't the best thing."

Despite his popularity, Alstott always has been one of the league's most approachable players, and he has a tremendous sense of community. His charitable endeavors and work with pediatric cancer patients is well-documented. But Alstott has always enjoyed one-on-one encounters with fans the most.

"I try to give people as much time as possible," Alstott said. "It's more than scoring touchdowns and dealing with the media. Our job is to impact lives in a positive fashion.

"There was an elderly woman here (recently), and she just wanted to meet me. It was probably one of the most touching things. She stood there and had the jersey on and started crying. She had to be 80-plus years old. What I could do in five minutes for that person made her day. I look at those things as special moments, too."

The Gruden years

By the time coach Jon Gruden arrived in Tampa Bay, Alstott was an established star with five straight Pro Bowl appearances.

Their relationship started ominously when Gruden referred to him as "Mark Alstott" during his inaugural news conference.

Under Gruden, Alstott shared the backfield with Michael Pittman. He settled into a more traditional fullback role but still was used in short-yardage and goal-line situations as well as to close out victories.

In 2002, Gruden's first season, he rushed 146 times for 548 yards and five touchdowns while catching 35 passes for 242 yards and two scores. The pinnacle was scoring the Bucs' first touchdown, a 2-yard run, in Super Bowl XXXVII. That preceded his sixth, and final, Pro Bowl trip.

"He came along at an important time in this franchise's history," Moore said. "It was the beginning of the turnaround, so he was the figurehead for the turnaround Bucs."

The next season came the neck injury that nearly ended his career. When Alstott returned in 2004, he wasn't nearly the same player. It took him a full season to gain confidence and conditioning. Alstott also saw his production cut in half.

Last season, with the arrival of rookie Cadillac Williams, Alstott rarely had his number called. He rushed just 32 times for 80 yards yet still led the team with seven touchdowns. Before last week, Alstott had rushed only 32 times this season. But he had 22 carries for 56 yards in the Bucs' 22-7 win over the Browns.

"I think (Cowboys guard) Marco Rivera said it best, and this was three years ago when he was still in Green Bay," running backs coach Art Valero said. "He said one thing you knew you were getting with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers when (Alstott) was back there, you knew you were in for a street fight every down; that it was going to be a physical game.

"And if you weren't prepared, you were going to get beat up. Even though he didn't have a lot of yards (against Cleveland), he beat some people up. I'm sure that their training room was full."

Alstott has seen other veterans leave, such as John Lynch to Denver, and wondered what it would be like. But he insists he would not entertain the idea of playing for another team.

Some believe Alstott wouldn't play again for Gruden.

"No, that's not true," Alstott said. "I played for him for five years."

Still, Dwayne Scranton began a Web site, givemiketheball.com, and has collected nearly 4,000 signatures encouraging Gruden to hand the ball to Alstott today in, potentially, his final game.

Alstott admits he has been frustrated at times.

"I've had one-on-one conversations with coaches and asked them why," Alstott said. "That's the reason we have doors on the offices. But at the end of the day, you've got to look 10 other guys in the eye. So just do your job."

Gruden refuses to discuss if the Bucs will offer Alstott a chance to return next season.

"Alstott's going to decide what he wants to do," Gruden said. "We love him. So let's let him do that, and let's leave him alone. He's a leader here. He's a heck of a player, and hopefully, it all works out.

"I'm not going to go into this like it's his last game. I think if it was his last game, he'd let us know that. If we knew that, we'd certainly do something, I'm sure, very special for him because he's a great Buccaneer and one of the great ones ever."

Life after football

Alstott is a blue-collar running back who will still carry a lunch pail to work after football. He likes to work with his hands and has numerous real estate remodeling projects. He has knocked down walls, put up drywall and jack-hammered through concrete.

He helped build a Starbucks near his home in St. Petersburg. He took a four-unit apartment building on First Avenue South and turned it into an office he hopes will be home to his real estate development company.

"Ever since I got into my dad's toolbox as a little kid, I loved tearing things apart and building them back up again," Alstott said.

"Things aren't given to you, and football wasn't given to me. I worked my butt off for it. But when you have a vision, when you have dreams, you've got to make them come real. This game gives you a great life after football. It opens doors with the people you meet and opportunities presented to you. I've been living a dream. I've gotten to get up and go to work every day and play football."

Truth be told, Alstott would love for the Bucs to ask him back for another season. He would wrestle with that decision. As he said, it's hard to walk away.

"I think in his heart, he would still love to play," Barber said. "But I think the situation, in his head, is not right for him. That's what would push him to not come back for another year. But with Mike, I've never counted him out."

Today at least, Alstott can put on the helmet and shoulder pads. He can carry the football, lower his head and plow over a defensive back. He can hear the crowd roar and train whistle blow.

And for one more game, we can come along for a ride on the A-Train.

"He's the heart and soul of this football team," Valero said. "And I think he is like Derrick Brooks. He's the face of this program, regardless who's here, regardless of what players come and go, regardless whatever coaches come and go.

"He is the Tampa Bay Buccaneers."

Rick Stroud can be reached at stroud @sptimes.com.

[Last modified December 30, 2006, 23:38:57]