Bucs' book has only one story Gary Shelton, The St.Petersburg Times, published 29 November 1993 You knew, of course. All the time, you knew. You have seen the Tampa Bay Bucs before, so you know how these stories end. They end badly, with the effort and the fight strewn across the field like so much waste. They end with the opponent, the Green Bay Packers this time, calmly driving goalward, despite holding the short end of the scoreboard, despite the evaporating time, despite the Bucs. They end with a crucial drive, 75 yards this time, when winning teeters between two teams. They end with Tampa Bay losing, 13-10 this time, when the four or five big plays are wrested away. And they end whatever progress, considerable this time, that the Bucs seemed ready to stand up and claim. They left so much on the field Sunday, did the Bucs. When Craig Erickson threw a touchdown pass to Courtney Hawkins with 7:33 to play, it left this team on the verge of its second straight victory. More than that, the score allowed Tampa Bay fans that rare thing called hope. Granted, a two-game winning streak would not have been much. But only six times in the past 11 years have the Bucs had two in a row. They have not won three straight since a playoff run late in 1982, but suddenly, that looked possible, too. For the Bucs, this qualified as on the verge of very big. With a victory, this team could have made you believe - for the first time in a very long time - that tomorrow might be different than yesterday. This, most of all, is what the Bucs lost Sunday when the Packers took a six-minute, 17-second journey through their souls. They lost a chance to put a down payment on respect. "I remember thinking in the second half that this could be the most important half in the eight years I've been here as far as getting this thing turned around," tackle Rob Taylor said. A victory on the road, in the cold, as a 12 1/2-point underdog, and today people would talk of this team's eight straight quarters of solid football. Of two straight wins over teams fighting for the NFC Central lead. Of success without Reggie Cobb, without Lawrence Dawsey, without Eric Curry, without Mark Wheeler. One play by somebody, by anybody on the Buc defense, in that final drive, and all of that would be allowed today. One forced fumble. One interception. One sack at the right time. Instead, the talk will be of how another one got away. Of how the Bucs are still the Bucs. Of how losing erases effort. As always, it would be nice to think there was something different this time. In the locker room, perhaps there was. This was not New Orleans last year, when the Bucs seemed thrilled with a near upset. This was a pained locker room, where the players looked as if something precious had been ripped from them. And it had. Sam Wyche, in particular, seemed hard hit. Often, he tries so hard to spin positive on defeat that he comes across as insincere, as covering up his team's deficiencies. This time, however, his voice was quiet, injured, raw. He talked of how this was the game where his team "drew a line in the dirt" despite the loss, of how it was the game to mark the progress of his team. You felt that he wanted to believe. And he wanted you to believe, too. The thing is, losing teams don't get extra credit when they lose. It is difficult to salvage hope from the ashes. For this franchise, there have been too many stalled drives toward improvement to find solace in losing close. "It's hard to think about positives," center Tony Mayberry said, "when you let a game like this get away." "You have to win to get respect," said tackle Santana Dotson. "You don't get it by playing well." Yes, the Bucs deserve credit for playing hard. But the Packers still drove downfield to claim the winning score. Brett Favre completed a second-and-20 pass against an eight-man secondary. He threw a touchdown pass to a double-covered Sterling Sharpe when, as defensive coordinator Floyd Peters said, "everybody in America knew who they were throwing to." The thing is, everybody in America knew the play probably would be successful, too. The same way they know Indiana Jones will find the treasure, and James Bond will kiss the heroine, and Dracula will take it in the heart. For the Bucs, that is the familiar ending. Until the ending changes, the story cannot.