Mr. Barber, I was watching the Bucs beat the Lions in week 2 of the 1997 season, the turn around year for our team. Tony Dungy had taken over the year before, and the Glazers changed the uniforms from Orange to Pewter. It was a new day in Tampa Bay, 14 years of losing was finally over. You didn’t really know about that, you see, there you were in your street clothes while guys like John Lynch, Warren Sapp, Derrick Brooks, Hardy Nicherson, transformed a laughable loser into a winner. You were the transition player, you were the first new hero of the first new generation. You never knew about Hugh Culverhouse, or Ray Perkins. You never met Leeman Bennett, you weren’t there for the 21-0 nothing loss in the biggest snow storm the Bucs would ever play in. These new guys, Mike Williams, Arrelious Benn, Josh Freeman, they are the new heroes; they won’t know any part of 3-4 starts, Tony Dungy 1st quarter benchings for misbehavior, or Simeon Rice Dances during commercial breaks. They will need you for that. Just as you relied on Nickerson and Lynch for information on Bucco Bruce days, these new guys will need you for their liason into the future. Will you play corner? Why not you have 3 picks and a bunch of other good stats. But your boss said you can play another 6 years if you wanted to play safety, or linebacker. You are not Hardy Nickerson who was sent to Jacksonville, your not Derrick Brooks who was let go for this movement. You’re not Warren Sapp who was told no thanks, or Simeon Rice who was told, well, no thanks. Nor Mike Alstott with a late injury too early in the season. No Ronde, you will be the only one who gets to go out on your own terms. So I ask you, to postpone those terms for a bit; don’t let “And Corner, from Virginia, Rondeeeee BarrrrBerrrr…” which will blast over the loud speaker at Raymond James Sunday around 4pm, be the last time we hear those words.