If Baltimore is going to return to the NFL, it seems that Peter Angelos' attempted purchase of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers is the best shot. In a two-part series, The Sun examines the state of the Bucs franchise in Tampa, Fla. Today: How the team's losing ways have worn on fans in Tampa. Tomorrow: Keeping the Bucs in Tampa likely depends on what can be done to improve Tampa Stadium.
TAMPA, Fla. -- Two hours before kickoff, and the loyal football fans at Champions Sports Bar and Restaurant are suited up and ready for play.
Chairs are pulled near the designated television sets. A booster-club chief, outfitted in his team's cap and jersey, is hustling tickets for an upcoming pre-game pool party. Order forms for umbrellas, beach blankets and other official team merchandise are neatly stacked on a folding table near the door.
And in case anyone wandering in from the street is startled by the preponderance of burgundy and gold fashion nearly 1,000 miles from RFK Stadium, a banner is strung up next to the wide-screen TV: "Home of the Redskins Booster Club of Tampa Bay."
Yes, Redskins. Redskins jerseys. Redskins pool parties. And Redskins fans, preparing for a Redskins game to be played in New Jersey later that day, nearly oblivious to the upset victory the Buccaneers are yanking out of the Vikings in Minneapolis on the TV.
In a city that has had its hometown loyalties tested as no other, Tampa fans have found relief rooting for other cities' teams. And the fact that they soon may be permanently relieved of their long-suffering Buccaneers has done little to stir emotions.
The franchise, which is struggling on and off the field, is for sale, and last week announced a number of finalists going into the second round of bidding, including groups representing Tampa, Baltimore, St. Louis, and Toronto.
"If the community loses the Buccaneers, it's the fault of the owners and the fan base," said Matthew J. Agresti, a founder of the 150-member Redskins club who, like many in this state of transplants, moved his team loyalty with him when he relocated here from Washington.
"I've been to a lot of stadiums, and I've never been to a town where there are so many opposing fans. You feel like you are at a neutral site," Agresti said. "I hope Baltimore gets them."
Few fans actually wish the team out of town. But Champions, located just a few miles south of Tampa Stadium, is one of two Redskins bars in town. Elsewhere are taverns catering to fans of the Chicago Bears, Green Bay Packers, Philadelphia Eagles, Buffalo Bills and Cleveland Browns.
Many taverns affiliate themselves with other teams because the Bucs haven't sold out their stadium since 1991 and, under NFL rules, the home games cannot be broadcast locally, making them a poor choice for adoption, said Champions bartender Doug Bean.
Plus, he said, "the fans are fair-weather." Theories about the team's anemic following abound, from the rich variety of water sports competing for attention on the glistening Gulf of Mexico to the elderly population base to deeply entrenched college football loyalties that predate the 1974 NFL franchise.
Out on the Courtney Campbell Causeway, halfway between Tampa and St. Petersburg, psychiatrist Charlie Clark watched the waves lap up against the white-sand beach and recalled his years in medical school at Baltimore's Johns Hopkins University, when the Colts were hot.
"In Baltimore, football and baseball were the major avocations, and down here it's just one of many things to do," Clark said.
Over the bridge, at the Clearwater Mall, Scott Henry contrasted his Florida life with his childhood in Green Bay, Wis., and Washington, where families pass football loyalties like heirlooms down through the generations.
"People were angry when the team lost there. Here, they don't care," said Henry, a 32-year-old personal security equipment salesman. "People are on vacation from the team."
Best of the worst
Given time, almost every discussion of the league's most unsupported team gets back to the Bucs' inability to win. The record is a marvel to behold: Over its 19 seasons, the team has lost more than twice as many games as it has won, posting the worst record in the modern NFL.
The Bucs have made it to the playoffs three times, finished first in their division twice and never have won a conference title, let alone a Super Bowl.
Seven teams -- a quarter of the league -- never have lost a game against Tampa Bay: the Browns, Los Angeles Raiders, Dallas Cowboys, New England Patriots, Pittsburgh Steelers, San Diego Chargers and Seattle Seahawks. The Redskins hadn't until last Sunday.
"I don't think it is the fans," said Doug Williams, who quarterbacked the Bucs during their only decent stretch, from 1978 to 1982.
People here refer to the team's awful record since Williams left in a salary dispute as the "Doug Williams Curse."
"I think because I'm from Louisiana the fans assumed I put a curse on the team," said Williams, now a Navy assistant coach.
The team was doomed not by voodoo, but by the frugal ways of late owner Hugh Culverhouse, Williams said. "The ownership has been more interested in making money than bringing in winning players," he said.
Culverhouse, the only owner the team has known since its inception as an expansion franchise in 1974, died in August, leaving the team in the hands of a three-person trust, which has put the Bucs up for sale. Among the interested bidders: Orioles owner Peter Angelos, who would like to move the team to Baltimore and will be meeting with the trustees again this week.
During his tenure, Culverhouse, a savvy attorney and businessman from Jacksonville, parlayed notoriously low payrolls and a lucrative lease on Tampa Stadium into one of the most profitable franchises in the NFL.
Yet Williams was the 54th-highest-paid quarterback in the league when he left to join the short-lived USFL before moving on to Washington and a Super Bowl win with the Redskins.
"They told me if they paid me a certain amount, they would have to pay everyone else that much. Culverhouse gave me a take-it-or-leave-it ultimatum," Williams said.
He left it, and it seems he took a lot of fans with him. Average attendance peaked at a little more than 67,000 in 1981.
So far this season, the average of 44,703 is last in the league and down from 47,187 last year, when the team finished third from the bottom in NFL attendance. The Bucs' season-ticket base of 23,488 is believed to be the lowest in the NFL.
Boosters say that those numbers would be far lower if not for a community that remains loyal despite the fact the team is on the verge of posting its 12th consecutive double-digit losing season.
"There are a lot of dedicated fans. You get one winning season, and that stadium would sell out," said Kriss Stephens, a 43-year-old elementary school teacher and one of only a handful of people at Champions -- or in Tampa -- wearing Buccaneers orange and white.
She moved to Tampa from New Jersey the year the team started play, 1976. "The stadium was packed. Now, you can pretty much sit wherever you want to," she said.
'You can't take our team'
Hunkered down with a pair of fellow teachers and Bucs fans, Stephens said she's familiar with Baltimore's painful football history, but doesn't want her team to heal the wounds opened when the Colts abruptly moved to Indianapolis on a snowy night in 1984.
"They were robbed, but that doesn't mean they should turn around and steal ours. They are just going to be doing to us what was done to them," Stephens said. "You can't take our team."
Fellow teacher and Bucs devotee Debbie Shimberg, 31, said a change in ownership -- and, in her opinion, the team's uniform colors and style -- is all the Bucs need to achieve glory. "Tampa loves football," she said.
"Everyone gripes and complains, but that's an outlet. I can't imagine my Sundays without football."
On days when the team is out of town, Champions features the Bucs on the big screen as part of a promotional agreement that brings players and coaches in for visits. But on this recent Sunday, most of the fans were clustered around sets tuned in to other games.
"In Philadelphia, people went crazy when there was talk of the team moving. I don't even see people here saying, 'Oh no, we're going to lose the team,' " said construction worker Richard Fitzkee, holding court with some Eagles fans.
Fitzkee, 40, still follows the Eagles, even though he moved here from Pennsylvania 15 years ago.
"[The Bucs] have a good following when the team's winning, but when they are losing, they just don't get the following. It's a different breed of people in the North and the South. I don't understand it," he said.
Fritzkee wishes the Bucs well, and roots for them most of the time. But he had season tickets for only one season, years ago. "And they were given to me," he said.