By MIKE LOPRESTI
Gannett News Service

LA JOLLA, Calif. - Ah yes, that mountain blocking out the sun is today's interview subject. Frank Middleton, Oakland guard, is talking about practices with his old teammate and Sunday's enemy, Warren Sapp, pride and blare horn of the Tampa Bay defense.

He reminisces.

"We'd fight hand to hand, fist to fist, fist to mouth. It was our responsibility to fight once a week.

"We had a nice little marriage. Some days it was good. Some days weren't so hot. We were married for four years and now we're divorced. Somebody has to pay the money. If we win Sunday, I'm going to get a nice alimony check."

If the state of California ever adds a 59th county, it could be named Frank Middleton. He goes 300-and-a-lot - possibly the largest mammal in town this week next to Shamu at Sea World - and every ounce on Sunday will be aimed at stopping Sapp.

Do that, and he can cut the heart out of the Tampa Bay defense. Or is that the tongue? The trash talk on Sunday might as well come out of a boom box.

He shrugs.

"I've heard it all before. Nothing's going to be new to me.

"If he beat me in practice, he got to talk about me the whole day. I never liked being talked about.

"We had a war for two hours every day for four years."

Middleton was a Buccaneer until 2001. That meant unremitting combat with Sapp, when the windows would rattle and the ground would shake.

"We went at it for four years, and it won't be any different Sunday," Sapp said the other day. "I just consider him a mauler. Big, mean, nasty, loves the game. Something like me."

Middleton smiles.

"Warren is made for TV. I am the guy with the hard hat and he is the guy with the suit. I think he is made for this.

"I think I can hold my own against anyone when it comes to talking. But Sapp has a feel for the camera. He gets a layout of all the cameras before the game or something.

"We want Sapp to have a very quiet day, stat-wise and mouth-wise."

Middleton will take on any subject, while he waits to take on Sapp.

The use of replay?

He sits back. He folds the tree limbs that pass for arms. He scowls. There is no further review on the holding, gouging, choking and clawing that goes on in the line.

"Replays don't help the fat boys."

The decision by Tampa Bay General Manager Rich McKay to let him go two years ago?

He snorts.

"McKay had a plan. I guess he wanted to play with the worst O-line in the league. ... After I left, the line pretty much went to hell."

The importance of a good offensive line?

He grumbles.

"We don't get credit for nothing. But we have everything to do with everything."

Especially against Sapp?.

"If he smells blood, it's all over."

The idea he could be intimidated, going against Warren Sapp with Super Bowl chips on the table?

He scoffs.

"Last person who scared me was my mama."

He has talked to Sapp but once in two years, and then only by a chance meeting.

"Out of sight," he says, "out of mind."

But he sees Sapp this week. In the film sessions, in his sleep, in the memories of those old practice field wars.

"He wanted to be baddest dog on the block. I needed to be the baddest dog on the block."

And just who is the baddest dog on the block?

He smiles.

"I'll tell you after Sunday."

Return to Bengals front page...