Who is to blame for this latest debacle? Hubert Mizell, The St.Petersburg Times, published 23 September 1996 We're talking mass indictment. If the Bucs didn't have the red-zone blues, Sunday would've been a winner. But, in the end, it was a defensive death. For three quarters, Seattle quarterback Rick Mirer looked like some sort of blundering Joe Blow against Tampa Bay's defense, extending his own malfunctioning season. But suddenly, the Seahawks' sucker became a fourth-quarter Joe Montana. Or at least he seemed so against a by-then-reeling Bucs defense. Mirer shoved the lethal poison of two touchdowns down gasping, insufficient Tampa Bay throats. At 13-3, the little crowd (30,212) at the Big Sombrero had begun to figure this latest oh-and-whatever Bucs drought might be joyously finis. But those poor, battered souls, they've seen near-misses so often. Been teased then torched game after game, season after season. Their old ballpark by now should be re-nicknamed The Flop Shop. This time, 17-13 comeuppance. "Difference between losing and winning, regarding everybody's feelings," eulogized Warren Sapp, a Bucs front-four hunk who played quite splendidly, "is an abyss compared to Mount Everest." No antidote for failure? "I'm in shock," said Bucs linebacker Hardy Nickerson, a 10-year pro. "We played well enough to win, until the very end. It's mind-boggling how Seattle found the holes when they most needed them. We had Mirer totally out of synch, then he finds a phenomenal rhythm. We had that game won. No way we should've lost." Seattle had accomplished but a measly field goal. Then, quicker than anyone could plead, "Oh, no, not again!" a Tampa Bay defensive gem would turn to worthless dust. Brian Blades, a Seahawks receiver who has endured troubles of his own, got turned on as if by a magical Dennis Erickson toggle switch. Blades began to slash, hack, slice and carve Tampa Bay's pass coverage. Nobody with Bucco Bruce on his helmet could keep up. With eight catches in the two concluding, decisive Seahawks drives, the former University of Miami hero made Seattle's near-catch-up on a 5-yard flip from Mirer and then set up Lamar Smith's 14-yard draw play for the winning score. Lonnie Marts, a Tampa Bay linebacker with seven seasons of NFL savvy, wound up frequently covering Blades during the 83-yard drive that pulled Seattle within 13-10. A scheme that didn't work. Couldn't work, really. "Not many linebackers can do that," said former Notre Dame quarterback Mirer. Especially when the LB is gimpy. Marts had a nasty hip bruise. He was limping. After Blades' end-zone achievement, Lonnie was yanked. Sent to sick bay. Replacement possibilities can be brutally thin for the Bucs, especially on the offensive line and at both linebacker and wide receiver. Jeff Gooch, a rookie from Austin Peay (Tenn.), went in for Marts. He was asked to stalk Blades. It was like a little kid trying to catch soap bubbles. He is a special-teamer who had never played defense in the NFL. No chance. Unfair to Gooch. Hopeless for Tampa Bay. Blades ran square-out after square-out. He and Mirer played catch like two athletes alone on a field. Seattle by then had the look of a smooth, clicking offensive machine, after having been a whimpering and whipped Edsel for three quarters. Final, stabbing blow was Smith's 14-yard draw 31 seconds from the end. Bucs linebacker Derrick Brooks saw it coming. He had been victimized earlier in the afternoon when Chris Warren ran the same draw play for 10 yards. In the fourth quarter, the gifted Warren was missing with Florida dehydration. That's why somebody named Smith was in there. "On his draw for the TD, I saw it coming," said the old FSU guy. "I shot my gun. Fired at him (Smith). Their tight end got in the way. Smith cut off me. It hurt real, real bad. Everyone is hugely disappointed. He would be 2-2 at least; certainly not 0-4. People should know we don't go out there trying to lose; trying not to make the winning plays in the clutch. We've worked so hard. No excuses. We've got to work harder." A half-hour after the Bucs had become 0-4, losing to Seahawks who'd been 0-3, the expressive 288-pound Sapp was sitting at his locker. An ice bag taped to his aching right ankle. But the heart, the head and the soul hurt far more. "That's two weeks in a row, in Denver and now against Seattle, when we needed just one killer stop on the final drive to win," Sapp said. "Just one three-and-out series and we win. But we didn't handle it last time or this time. Good teams don't do that. Good teams find a way to win." Good . . . Bucs . . . an oxymoron.