Columns: We should have seen this coming

Of all the nerve. The kid has dared to be Bad Shaun once more. He ran when he should have thrown. He threw when he should have run. Worst of all, he lost when he should have won. He was shaky instead of smooth, perplexed instead of poised, flustered instead of failproof.

Go ahead. The season has turned ordinary, and from the looks of it, an ordinary quarterback is leading the way. So let him have it. Boo. Blast. Blame.

And then remember this:

This is how second-year quarterbacks play.

They are maddening. They are vexing. They throw to the wrong players. They throw to the wrong jerseys. They miss reads. They change week to week, spiking with their highs, plunging with their lows. They show you flashes that say, "Just wait." Then they show you flashes that say, "For what?" They climb Pike's Peak, and then they plunge into the Mariana Trench.

Go ahead. Voice your dissatisfaction. Throw the remote control. Leave the light on for Trent Dilfer. Compare King to Daunte Culpepper. This will not do. This cannot do. Shout. Snarl. Swear.

Then ask yourself this:

One more time, why is the season in King's hands anyway?

That's the thing about blame. There is so darned much to go around. Of course the quarterback played awful. Of course he has to play better. Of course the mob is outside his door, torches in hands, and it will be there until he drives it away.

But in a way, isn't this how King is supposed to play after 16 starts in the NFL? Isn't he supposed to be up and down? (Okay, maybe not this down.) Isn't he supposed to have days like Sunday, when the league points and says, "Wow. You sure do have a long way to go, huh?"

Such afternoons happen to a lot of second-year quarterbacks. Of course, they usually happen to Cincinnati and Chicago and Cleveland -- and yes, to pre-1997 Tampa Bay -- to teams that are fully aware they are on their way to nowhere. Seldom is a second-year quarterback entrusted with a team that believes itself to be on the verge of something amazing.

So, while you're unhappy, acknowledge this: When they pass out the blame, some of it has to go to the organization that threw King into the deep water. Some of it has to be laid on those who didn't see this coming.

Yes, King charmed us all last season with his poise. He seemed to have a knack for making a play at a critical time, and he kept the Bucs' season going all the way to the final stages of the NFC Championship Game. His performance overreached the expectations of him by such a grand amount that it was easy to think he would grow to manhood without facial blemishes.

It was easy, at the time, for the Bucs organization to pay attention to wheels that squeaked louder. It changed offensive coordinators. It replenished its offensive line. It traded for Keyshawn Johnson.

Then it gave King the keys to the car.

And it hoped for, well, anything but this.

Oh, to be fair, there wasn't much of a market (Jeff Blake, Jeff George, Dilfer). And the Bucs did try to upgrade their backup with Neil O'Donnell. In hindsight, however, the team should have realized how the league chews up second-year quarterbacks. And it, like us, should wonder if it did enough.

It is a tough time to be King, what with all the talk of overthrowing. The world, it must seem, has fallen out of love with you. A year ago, all the talk was about what you had in your heart and your head. These days, it is what you lack in your arm and your hands. A year ago, you had a hero's homecoming; now, you have Carrie's.

Let's be honest. The bottom line about King is this: We don't know. He is still in the shallow end of the pool. We do not know what he will grow up to be, whether it be more Manning than Leaf or more Bledsoe than Mirer.

The unfortunate part, however, is that while we wait to find out, the clock is running. The Bucs are much older this week than last, and another loss will make them older still. Even if you grant that much of King's struggles are mere growing pains, you have to ask: Can the franchise afford to wait for King to catch up?

Now ask yourself this: Suppose King continues to ride the roller coaster in the Bucs' next five games. Suppose he shows, as he has in some games, calmness in the fourth quarter. Suppose he shows, as he has in others, an inconsistent arm.

If you are the Bucs, what do you do then? Do you invest another year and believe he will be better? Or do you pony up for a more experienced quarterback, a Brad Johnson, perhaps? Or a Trent Green?

Go ahead. Think about free agency. Think about trades. Think about new faces. Imagine. Invent. Indulge.

After all, these days it's safer to think about the months ahead than it is the weeks.

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