Bucs cut tragic end from script Hubert Mizell, The St.Petersburg Times, published 28 September 1992 Sunday afternoon, between 3:30 and 4 o'clock, hypertension increased by 73.9 percent among the Tampa Bay football-watching television audience. Did you see it? Tampa Bay's historically horrible Bucs (a 35-108 record for their previous nine seasons) almost never live to gloat about a game with such mesmerizing late-fourth-quarter appeal. But this time, as Tampa Bay eyes watched stretch-run dramatics - leading to victorious jubilation - it would not be the work of a Washington, a San Francisco or some other NFL notable. Gasp it's "Da Bucs." Loser of 15 in a row on the road, Tampa Bay was burned again in the furnace of Sunday's closing minutes. But this time, the Bucs wouldn't melt, even in the roaring Silverdome bedlam against a Detroit team with 11 consecutive home wins. Six minutes from the end, the Lions appeared to be taking over. Nice try, Bucs, but - one more time - it looked like no Tampa Bay road-game cigar. Detroit led 16-13 and was offensively cooking. Bucs defenders were backpedaling. Turn out the lights But no, these Bucs are different, with new attitude and new neon-orange britches. There came a little bobble as Detroit quarterback Rodney Peete handed off to Barry Sanders, the world's best running back. Santana Dotson, a remarkable Tampa Bay rookie lineman, snatched the tumbling football from mid-air and bulled, blustered and steamed 42 yards for a shocking touchdown. The way a Redskin or a 49er might do. But the Bucs being the Bucs, the 20-16 lead lasted exactly 18 seconds. Mel Gray, one of the NFL's best returners, plucked Ken Willis' floating kick and darted 89 unmolested yards to the end zone. Detroit led 23-20. Stuff like that traditionally sucks the heart out of Tampa Bay's road patsies. TV viewers back in Florida had to be mumbling "same old Bucs." Also "same old" Vinny Testaverde, who had wasted a lot of splendid quarterbacking by throwing three interceptions. Now, in the quaking wake of Gray's runback, it was Vinny with 5:43 to go, facing 80 menacing yards and eardrum-battering crowd noise. Testaverde would nuzzle up to teammates' ears, seemingly so they could hear over the screaming to know what play was on. All day, Vinny had done it. Often, the Bucs' offense had a look of confusion before snaps, as if participants in an ill-directed fire drill. It was mostly a fake. "Testaverde would yell, but his words usually meant nothing," Bucs coach Sam Wyche said. "It was things we wanted Detroit's defense to hear, but meanwhile our quarterback was calling plays with hand signals." It wouldn't be "same old Vinny" in the clutch. No interception. No boneheadedness. Testaverde moved the Bucs the way Joe Montana moved the 49ers for so many seasons - an 80-yard masterpiece drive topped by Vinny's sleight of hand. In search of a go-ahead touchdown from the Detroit 14, the Tampa Bay offense made a hard-right move at the snap, giving the look of a Gary Anderson sweep. Testaverde faked beautifully, kept the football, and eventually flipped in the opposite direction to wide, wide, wide open tight end Ron Hall for the score. Forty-nine seconds left, and Tampa Bay high-fived a 27-23 lead. Stunning! Bucs win, right? Not just yet. This was, after all, still a Tampa Bay team with a ghastly reputation for throwing away games. Detroit knew that. Peete began zinging passes, for 16 yards and 19 and 32. In half a minute, the Lions flew to the Tampa Bay 15. "Same old Bucs," witnesses had to be growling back in Florida. They gritted teeth, girding for another orange disaster. But this time, when Detroit went for the kill in the final 10 seconds, Bucs linebacker Jimmy Williams turned pass receiver Brett Perriman away from the goal line and toward the sideline, and then Tampa Bay cornerback Milton Mack buried the Lion as time ran out. For now, with their one-game road winning streak and a 3-1 record, plus a share of the NFC Central Division lead, not even Vinny Testaverde's worst enemy had a right to call them "same old Bucs!"