Bucs' season shines in special way Martin Fennelly, The Tampa Tribune, published 22 December 1997 The season of light. That is how it will be remembered, no matter what happens next Sunday. The Bucs" playoff run might end the same day it begins, but there will be no such thing as failure this year. "I'm working Christmas," Trent Dilfer said triumphantly. It's all he had to say. He and his team-mates had just wrapped up the Chicago Bears and presented Tampa Bay with the gift that keeps on giving: a home playoff game. There hasn't been one of those since the magical 1979 season. But 1997 has twinkled in its own special way. It is not humbug. It really happened. Fifteen years later, our Tiny Tims threw away their crutches. The big picture didn't hit you until the Big Sombrero was filled for the next to last time in its history. Until you realised that a full 22 hours before the Bucs sealed their 10th win, a family of five from Brandon began the line for playoff tickets outside Houlihan's Stadium. Inside, the winning quarterback stopped to applaud 70,000 fans. "This means everything," Trent Dilfer said. "It means everything to everybody." A hard year to predict. Predicting this season would have been as difficult as drawing up Karl Williams" big punt return or Warrick Dunn's big run, the longest in Bucs history. They just happened any which way they could. Back, forth, left, right, right, left, spinning again and again. There was no need for explanation, only exultation. Cynics could point to the occasional offensive problems or the recent lack of a pass rush, both of which disappeared in Sunday's victory. Or to the Bucs' playoff inexperience. Or to Barry Sanders, who averaged 81.0 yards on his touchdown runs the last time he was in Tampa. This is a reward for 15 years? Mr. 2000? Yeah, you could point to that. Or you could listen to Bucs nose tackle Brad Culpepper, who grew up in Tallahassee, whose father took him to Bucs games as a kid. "I've got a worst-to-first pennant somewhere in my closet back in Tallahassee," Culpepper said. "Maybe I'll have to get it out now." And go listen to Dilfer, who Sunday threw his club-record 21st touchdown. He'll give the ball to his 6-week-old son, Trevin. By the time Trevin's ready to throw it, folks will still talk about 1997, the season that was and about the same old Bucs who finally weren't. "This is a pretty amazing season regardless of what happens," Dilfer said. "I think we've defied the odds, we've proven people wrong. And we've made a whole lot of people happy." Worth waiting in line. Some of the happy people had waited through the night for playoff tickets. The line stayed put during Sunday's game, curling around metal barricades, listening to the roars from inside. At the head of the line: the Whiteheads. That would be Bobby and Raelyn Whitehead and their three children: Kenny, 10, Brittani, 7, and Trent, 2 - yes, Trent. "Because of Trent Dilfer," Raelyn admitted. Bobby Whitehead started the ticket line with two of his children at 6 p.m. Saturday. He and his mother did the same thing in 1979, when he bought tickets to the Bucs" last home playoff game. All these years, and Bobby Whitehead never once got out of line. This was his team. "It's been a long time," he said. The Houlihan's Stadium ticket office opens at 10 a.m. today. The Whiteheads were ready for the dawn. They had food and a tent and blankets. It's been so cold for so long for the Bucs" huddled masses. Now the wait is almost over. And the dead of night isn't dark anymore. It's the season of light.