Listen: Sometimes, a loss is just a loss Gary Shelton, The St.Petersburg Times, published 6 October 1997 They lost a game. That's all. The Tampa Bay Bucs, for the first time this season, walked off a field under a losing scoreboard. From the looks on their faces, it was a difficult journey. Lips were tight, and shoulders were slumped, and faces were blank. Do not read more into the Bucs' 21-16 loss to Green Bay than that. It was a defeat. It was not a retreat. The sky is not falling. The wheels are not coming off. You might want to check this out for yourself, but be assured that Hugh Culverhouse did not return to the owner's box or Ray Perkins to the sideline or Jack Thompson to the huddle. The team will not return to orange uniforms or winking pirates or the NFC Central cellar. This was not about poise. This was not about pride or character or any of those other cliches. This was not how many big games the Packers have won. This was not about the Packers seeking their level and the Bucs seeking theirs. The Bucs did not lose faith or direction or credibility. They lost a game. A big game, it should be said. A game where it spent a half digging its own hole. But only one game. Nothing more. We tend to analyze games like this to death. We want to know not just who won, and why, but what it all means. Does it mean the Pack is back to where it used to be? Does it mean (shudder) that the Bucs are, too? No, it doesn't. What it means is that the Bucs won't go undefeated, as if anyone expected them to. It means the Bucs lost to the World Champions on a Sunday the Packers needed to win at the toughest place in the NFL for a visitor to play. It means the Bucs made more mistakes than the Packers. There is no deeper hidden meaning than that. It means that the Packers, a very good football team, beat the Bucs, a very good football team. That's it. There will be a tendency in Tampa Bay to make more of it. Some of us have waited so long for a banquet such as this season there is this nagging feeling someone is going to come along and whisk it all away. Today, some will suggest there is something deep in the Packers - heart and desire and such - than enabled them to win this game and kept the Bucs from it. Nothing like a big game to turn us all into Freud. Take the first half. When Warrick Dunn's fumble led to a Packers touchdown, when Trent Dilfer's interception was returned for a second, when Anthony Parker dropped a sure interception to set up a third, it seemed as if there were two Bays - Green and Tampa - working against the Bucs. How else could you explain a 21-3 Packers lead in a game the Bucs were dominating physically? But the second half removed any doubts that this team was big enough for a game of this size. The Bucs shut out the Packers, and the offense scored 13 in a row and had a chance to win at the end. You want to know the difference in the Bucs? Last year, the Bucs trailed the Packers by a touchdown late and had the ball. And you knew to your bone marrow there was no way the Bucs were going to score. Not if the teams were on the field until Tuesday. This time, the feeling was different. You felt as if this team had a chance. When Dunn didn't get an interference call on fourth down, you could see the team was shocked it had not found a way to win. Admit it. Maybe you were a little surprised yourselves. There was a difference in the locker room, too. Reporters kept throwing up softball questions about coming close and moral victories and that kind of rot. Warren Sapp growled at one of them for it. "A loss didn't do s--- for us," he said, baring his teeth till you could see the chewing tobacco. "We lost it, man. Don't come around here talkin' about moral victories." In other words, it is fine to feel disappointed in the wake of losing a huge game. But those who tell you to brace yourself for the return of days past are just venting the skepticism that built up during a 5-0 start. "I'm sure some people will want to read things into it," Tony Dungy said. "But it's one game of 16. If we won this game, it didn't mean we were going to be champions or make the playoffs. It's like a play. If you hit a 90-yarder on the second play of the game, it doesn't mean you're going to win. If you're thrown for a loss, it doesn't mean you're going to lose the game." So what happens from here? That's the real concern, isn't it? It was only two years ago that Tampa Bay watched 5-2 turn into 7-9, after all. This time, that won't happen. That was a team built on smoke and mirrors, of narrow victories over weak teams. This is a team with a solid foundation. It says here this team will right itself. "Nothing has changed," Sapp said. "We were 5-0. Now we're 5-1. We're still in first place. We're going to be fine." One game. One loss. It meant disappointment. It didn't mean anything else.