This is one disastrous road picture

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By GARY SHELTON

© St. Petersburg Times, published December 25, 2000

TAMPA -- You could almost see it from here. And the regrettable thing is, for a heartbeat, you could almost see them in it.

It is late in a dark, disappointing evening at One Buc Place, and the players are filing, quickly and grimly, from the buses as about 50 fans cheer. Not far in the distance -- a right, a left, another left -- is the site of the Super Bowl.

For some reason, it seems a million miles away.

For the Bucs, this is a realization more disappointing than the defeat, even colder than the afternoon in Green Bay. The road has become longer, and the trip has become more hazardous.

They were here. The ball left the foot of Martin Gramatica, and you could see the future. You knew the kick was going to go straight. You knew the Vikings were going to lose to the Colts. You knew there were only two games to the Super Bowl, and one of those was going to be at home. You knew the Bucs were going to play at home for a world title, and you were already amused at how many people were going to whine about it.

Then the kick went wide, and a defense didn't hold, and suddenly, this is what it takes to go from Westshore to Dale Mabry:

A journey of 3,738 miles (the sum of trips to Philly, Minnesota and New York).

Three straight victories on the road (by a team that went 4-4 away from home all season).

Two of those games, probably, in frigid conditions, where, as you might have heard, the Bucs haven't been exactly wonderful.

Such is the carnage. One game lost, and the Bucs went from NFC favorite to long shot. One kick missed, and a very tall hill in front of them turned into Mount Everest. Just like that, the Bucs added a game, lost home-field advantage, lowered the thermostat and turned into traveling salesmen.

"It's harder," said coach Tony Dungy, standing in the dark. "But that's what we have to deal with. You can't say "What if?' Every team can look back at one game, or two. But, yeah, I think we can do it. That's the way we have to think."

The way other people think is this: Reaching the Super Bowl from here is one notch from impossible. Attila couldn't win three straight on the road. If you're keeping score, only the 1986 New England Patriots won three times on the road to get to the title game. Which is why the formula for reaching the Super Bowl is considered fairly simple: The more home games in January, the better a team's chances. Hey, you saw what being on the road did to Thelma and Louise, didn't you?

This year, when the NFC is a flawed conference, full of half-teams, where the offensive teams cannot play defense and the defensive teams cannot play offense, where entire teams seem to wander off and get lost, being close to home seems more important than ever.

Go ahead. Torture yourself. Imagine that cold weather did not turn Gramatica into Scott Norwood. Imagine the kick sailing straight, the way we have come to expect. Imagine the Bucs as a No. 2 seed, having nothing to do this week but unwrap presents and heal. Imagine the electricity of Bucs at home against the Vikings in two weeks.

Yeah, I know. The Vikings offense is feared and all that, but do you really see any team coming to the RayJay and beating the Bucs in a playoff game? Come on. Once the cannons start firing, weird things happen at the RayJay. Shaun King fumbles, and Warrick Dunn picks it up and runs for a first down against Washington in last season's playoffs. Dunn is trapped for a loss, and he pitches to King, who rambles for 29 yards in this season's game against the Rams. Mike Martz gets too conservative. Wade Phillips gets too aggressive. Norv Turner loses IQ points.

If you can imagine such a scenario, then you can imagine the Bucs going to East Rutherford, their most likely destination, the next week to play the Giants. Trust me when I tell you that Kerry Collins has never been the reason for the sale of night light in his career. Personally, I like the Bucs in that game, too. A win over the Packers and that would have been your road map. I'm no handicapper, but I would have said the Bucs had a 70 percent shot at winning the conference.

Now? It's about 7. The Bucs have to go from here to there and over there and back. They have no compass, no machete and no canteen. They have to march through Death Valley and over Pike's Peak and across the Sahara. And, worst of all, into Philly and that tombstone of a playing surface.

On their own, none of these games looks impossible. Take it a game at a time. The Bucs probably will win in Philly (even though the Eagles are already talking about how cold it gets there, too) and they have an outside shot at an indoor win in Minnesota. And you'd like their chances in New Jersey.

But can they win all three? In a row? On the road? In the cold? That's a lot to ask, and you're asking it several times in a row.

Consider that despite the comeback, the Bucs scored one touchdown Sunday. Consider that despite the turnovers, the defense couldn't hold in overtime even though the Packers were without their best running back and their best receiver. Consider the kick that missed, or the coaches who forgot that a 30-yard field goal is easier than a 40-yarder.

A victory Sunday would have allowed you to forget about such flaws. It would have cleared the path and pointed the way. Instead, all the Bucs can do is buy a map. And hope there is enough gas in the tank.

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