Sports: Time growing short

Time growing short

Tony Dungy is as eager for a title as Bucs fans, and is on a deadline. Really.

By GARY SHELTON

TAMPA -- Not much time to go now. And Tony Dungy cannot wait.

He sits inside his office, a small, cramped room filled with film, furniture and expectations. He half-turns on the black sofa, and although he speaks quietly, he seems to have that impatient air of a fighter who cannot wait for the bell.

Dungy talks about opportunity and how quickly it flashes past, and perception and the way it is altered by time, and excitement and how it fills his belly. He talks about the standards he has constructed, and the success he expects, and the conclusion he desires.

In some ways, Dungy is talking about the start of a season.

In some ways, he is talking about the end of a career.

He will be 45 on Oct. 6, a young man in a job that made him wait an eternity. He loves his profession to the point he understands when it doesn't love him back. He is popular, wealthy, admired. He is hours from his fifth opening day, from what people expect to be his finest season. And, Dungy says, he is a short-timer.

For the Bucs, the window of opportunity may not be open as wide as you would think. This year, Dungy says, and five others. Make merry while you may.

"I always looked at 10 years (as a head coach)," Dungy says. "I'm almost halfway there. Ten years would be a long time. I hope I make it."

Dungy had been talking about the nature of his profession, about how success seemed to increase, rather than decrease, scrutiny. He had talked about seeing how a magnificent career ended in boos for Chuck Noll, his old coach with the Steelers. About how Don Shula and Tom Landry were all but banished from the fields amid accusations the game had passed them by.

But only five more years after this one? Is Dungy kidding? He would be only 50. Would he really walk away?

"I don't want to be coaching when I'm 60 years old," Dungy says. "I enjoy it. I love it. But there are so many other things I want to do, so many things in the fall that other people have a chance to do. You work seven days a week. Every Thanksgiving, every Christmas, hopefully every New Year's.

"For instance, my kids just started playing football, on Saturday mornings. (James is a tight end-defensive end; Eric a running back-safety.) But I know that until they get into high school, I'm not going to be able to see them play. And you understand it's part of the job. But I know there will come a time I'll want to see my kids play."

How firm are Dungy's plans? He chuckles again.

"My wife says not very," he said. "I say so. I think I'd be more inclined to come back after that if we hadn't won, if we had gotten close and had a couple more St. Louis experiences. If we've won a Super Bowl, I'd really have to look at it."

Given the success of Dungy, two playoffs in the past three years from a franchise that had been among the worst in history, it may seem somewhat disturbing to see him contemplate retirement, even if the date is February of 2006.

The point is: Time is growing shorter than you might have thought. If the Bucs are going to rescue the Lombardi Trophy, Sunday seems like a nice time to start.

For the record, Dungy, like everybody else, expects his team to be very good. The expectations seem to please him. The Bucs are a long way from that first season, when a 6-10 record got Dungy bathed in Gatorade, a move that perplexed him. These days, anything short of a Super Bowl might make fans boo.

Think about it. In some ways, fans seemed to appreciate Dungy more in those awful first few weekends than now, when winning has become expected. "That's the nature of the profession," Dungy said. "When not much is expected, everything you do looks like a plus."

Now is different. Take the Brad Culpepper release of Aug. 21. It wasn't just that people disagreed with Dungy over his decision; they darned near stormed the gate. They accused him of losing his mind, of not recognizing ability, of conspiring to tear down the franchise. Dungy's children came home from school, repeating the questions of classmates who wondered what Dungy was thinking. Or if he was.

After the past three seasons, you might have thought Dungy would get a little credit for knowing a player, particularly a defensive player, particularly a defensive player on his front seven. As another member of the organization wondered: "Did we cut Bob Lilly by mistake?"

Dungy shrugs. There isn't a coach in the league who will admit the criticism bothers him, but most, it does. It used to drive Sam Wyche crazy, for instance. But Dungy, a man of rare perspective, convinces you this is the finest occurrence in the world.

"That's why football is so great," he said. "People do take it personally. They take it emotionally . To make sound decisions, you have to try to take that stuff out of it. When you demote an Errict Rhett, or when you cut a Brad Culpepper, everyone is going to look at it differently than you. As a head coach, you have to do what you think is right, even if people think you're wrong. This time, I'd say it was 99 percent against.

"There is so much coverage these days, with newspapers and talk shows and the Internet, that everyone thinks they have a handle on it, that they know what the thing to do is. It's what makes football popular, and it's why we make a lot of money, and why players make a lot of money. You can't knock that part of it."

So the focus grows sharper on Dungy. For one thing, Trent Dilfer and Mike Shula, the old scapegoats, are gone. For another, the Bucs have moved into the neighborhood of teams where losing is a bigger story than winning. This team is expected to be great, and to heck with very good.

Dungy doesn't mind. He likes the bar high. He likes talking about playoffs, and division titles, and first-round byes, and home-field advantage in the playoffs.

"Out of 16 games, how many times can we play the best we can?" Dungy said. "That's our challenge."

There is some urgency here. This isn't going to last forever, not the players or the opportunity or the coach. The clock is running.

For Dungy, for the Bucs, the first test comes Sunday.

Be warned. As season openers go, it may be his next-to-the-next-to-the-next-to-the-next-to-the-next-to-last chance.