Bucs defense talkin' proud: `Hey, we beat those Hubert Mizell, The St.Petersburg Times, published 1988 Sunday was different. So un-Buccaneerlike. Tampa Bay's offense played turnover-free football, which means (drumroll, please) a rare no-interception game for Vinny Testaverde. As an unanticipated 10-5 coup d'etat against the celebrated Buffalo Bills ended, Tampa Stadium customers were moved to grin, cheer and sing, rather than sneer, boo and taunt. It was contagious. Bucs coach Ray Perkins would say that Testaverde had “one of the greatest games I've ever seen a quarterback play,” which is about two tons heavy on the zeal, seeing that the big kid completed 12 of 29 passes for 156 yards and zero touchdowns. But I understand (I think). What Vinny did on this Sunday was not beat himself, and not strangle his team. He was good, but not extraordinary. A performance deserving a C-plus, or at best a B-minus. But, to Professor Perkins, after so many recent quarterbacking F's, it obviously merited a mark of A-plus. Well, it's his pencil. But if Perkins is into passing out orange roses for the upset of a Buffalo team thought to be a good Super Bowl bet, he ought to wire the first 11 to the Tampa Bay defense. It was damned heroic. At the end, after John Carney - the Bucs' stopgap and pitifully inept placekicker - blew two short field-goal chances to put the game out of reach, the underdogs arose one last time to smother the Bills when Mark Robinson intercepted a Jim Kelly pass at the Tampa Bay 14. But, before that, the Tampa Bay defensive hammers were many. Buffalo's runners were stonewalled, held to an anemic 2.1 yards per carry. The Bucs never allowed Kelly to sniff the end-zone grass. Like old times. Years ago, when the Bucs of another era (1979-82) were making the playoffs three times in four seasons (had you forgotten?), it was due in major part to Lee Roy Selmon-inspired defensive gusto. On Sunday, it was back. After so many Tampa Stadium disappointments, debacles and defeats, there was a goal-line stand that brought down the house. The Bucs were ahead 10-2, but Buffalo had just sacked Testaverde for a safety and was threatening to take over. The Bills had first-and-goal at the Tampa Bay 7. Then, it became fourth down, with Buffalo 36 inches shy of a touchdown. Robb Riddick, a Buffalo running back, is an artist at leaping over the foxhole fighting that goes on at the goal line. For the season, he was 6-for-6 in scoring TDs on such fourth-down vaults. “We'd seen it so often in films,” linebacker Ervin Randle said. “I was supposed to leap when Riddick made his jump, trying to meet him in midair and hopefully make the stop.” This time, with effective penetration by Tampa Bay rookie linemen Shawn Lee, Reuben Davis and Pig Goff, the Bills runner would never get off the ground. “I saw Riddick had no room for the takeoff step he needs for a leap over the line,” Randle said. “So, instead of jumping myself, I sliced inside and met him.” Stopped cold! Eighteen inches shy. “I looked down, and saw Riddick hadn't made it,” said Bucs nose tackle Curt Jarvis, “and I said to myself, `Oh my God, we stopped them.' I felt a shiver at the back of my neck.” The tone was set. Ten-thousand Buffalo fans sat stunned, in blue garb they'd worn to the Bucs ballpark, coming for what almost every one of them thought was a sure victory. Meanwhile, people in orange were screaming. For so long, they'd been buying $18 tickets and seeing 18-cent performances. Finally, the show was worth the money, and maybe more. “This is my proudest moment as a Buccaneer,” said Randle, a fourth-year pro who missed much of Tampa Bay's 4-10 season with a shoulder injury. “Who says the Super Bowl can't be played in December? This was it for us. Our enthusiasm has to be for next year, since we're out of the running this season. But, at least, when we're home watching Buffalo on TV during the playoffs, we can say, `Hey, we beat those guys.' “