Make this one a keeper, Tony Dungy, please.

Become as good a football coach as we know you are a fisherman, sir.

And he is an ace fisherman, and he is self-made, with a little help from professionals in that sport - Scott and son Jason Moore, Phil Alessi and Publix man Barney Barnett - in the bountiful waters around Gasparilla Island, south of us a bit here in Sarasota and Lee County waters. Boca Grande with its 35-foot Gulf of Mexico pass is there and so are the fish from hammerheads to hogfish.

Make this one a keeper, Tony, this latest run at the championship. Yes, we follow you closely down where you learned to head coach the Tampa Bay Buccaneers before following the talent to Indianapolis, and gave up the great fishing for snook, redfish, trout, ladyfish, tarpon and the others, and including that big, old cobia that you caught in the Inland Waterway and boated and he nearly broke all our legs with his flapping.

Many — I’d say most, but that’s an opinion — would like to see you move along in these NFL playoffs, starting with a win in the semifinals today against the dangerous, experienced New England Patriots, but at your place. Then win it all and bring that big trophy for us to see again, one we haven’t since Jon Gruden did it for us in the 2003 Super Bowl at San Diego. Beat New England today and then get to Miami and the Super Bowl to play New Orleans or Chicago, coached by your protégé, Lovie Smith.  What a deal that would be, you and Lovie for everything, in Miami. Won’t have to worry about snow. And you’ll have a Gator quarterback that can be hot or cold, play. But, can’t underestimate those Gators any more after the national title win over Ohio State, your part of the world. Know you couldn’t have picked that. 

We know you’ve been to the playoffs plenty of times, but never to the Super Bowl.  You took these Bucs three times into the playoffs, but not beyond the second round. Philadelphia was a nemesis and still is to the Bucs.

You got the quarterback in Peyton Manning. He’s got to love you. He’s low key, like you. He’s understated like you. He’s modest, too, and ought to be able to catch this big cobia named New England. Remember, you could be playing the Patriots in Foxborough where it is going to be like Nome today. Break there.

You have remained a popular coach and man here. You were well regarded, you and your family, were classy and respected, appreciated as you doubtless saw at its zenith when a son of yours died here not long ago under such dramatic circumstances. You saw it with the raised eyebrows of so many when ownership decided on a change hoping to go deeper into the playoffs, to the Super Bowl. Well, that happened the next year when young Jon Gruden came from Oakland and immediately took the Buckos to the Super Bowl and beat the bejeepers out of his old Oakland team. Many of us believe he won in part because of the knowledge of Oakland from coaching there. Fine. Neat. Good.

But, you kept your home here and loved to visit, in part to worship at your old church, go to Alessi’s Bakery on Cypress, buy the goodies, jaw with Phil, a very good one at that, then hoot around harmlessly and hope the Bucs and the Colts do well. Fact is, Coach, you’ve done a bit better. But, Gruden, and the Buckeroonies are doing OK, got a lot of draft picks and some money this year, and a whole lot of new assistant coaches.

Get it done, coach. Win it all and come home again and go fishing with Barnett, Alessi, Scott and me again.

I consider you a fine man, a good a good coach and a solid fisherman now, and I appreciate you candor—like that truth you told me the last time we fished.

Folks, Scott, Alessi, me and the coach were hunkered down over by the Sunshine Skyway, just north of the boat channel, in the shade of an island, last summer, to eat lunch - food we’d picked up that morning early at Alessi’s. It was fine. It was a great time. Yes, we had caught fish and would catch more.

Coach Dungy, looked at me with those big old, soulful eyes, and said:

“Tom, I want to tell you something. I have to.’’

My, I said to myself, what NFL rule has he broken?

“Remember the first time you called me about fishing with Phil—and you said, ‘meet me at Alessi’s Bakery on Cypress in the morning at 6:30. Bring nothing, coach, but a hat. We’ll go down to Anna Maria to meet Scott Moore, the pro guide and fine man. Phil will drive his big car.  At Phil’s we’ll get soft drinks on ice, pastries, macaroni salad, pick up a half dozen Cubans and be on our way.’

“Tom, I said to myself, ‘this must be a big boat they have for us if it will need six Cubans to make it go,’ ’’ and laughed.

“I had no idea you were talking about Cuban sandwiches.

“I thought you meant men to man oars or something.’’