Tom Talks

Buckner, Short, Smart will be missed

The Carolina Panthers' roster won't be the same next season and neither will the locker room.

Defensive tackle Brentson Buckner is a funny, smart and sage guy who always had something to say. And it was never, "We take them one game at a time," "There is no tomorrow," or "It is what it is." Nothing to write? Walk up to Brentson, turn on the tape recorder and a column appears. Brentson played at Clemson for Danny Ford, whom he loves. I also am a huge Ford fan, and I'll miss talking to Brentson about Danny.

Also absent will be linebacker Brandon Short, the political conscience of the locker room. You had to be informed if you were going to talk politics with Short, because he was. Short is so well-read and so bright. He'd engage in debates with a variety of teammates, foremost among them Mike Minter. If Short couldn't find somebody to debate, he would debate the mirror, a helmet, the wall. And he'd win those, too.

If Buckner wasn't the funniest guy on the team, Rod Smart was. You could ask Smart, whom the Panthers also released, what time it was and he'd say it was time to admit that he was the fastest player in the NFL. Before a big game, he might run naked, save for a strange hat, from one end of the locker room to the other. And formerly tense players would crack up.

All three players are victims of the salary cap. The salary cap has helped make the game great. But it has a dark side. The loss of Buckner, Short and Smart is the dark side.

A little CIAA party ... or a lot?

Some of you have asked how Big Tigger's CIAA party was Friday night. I'll give you two scenarios and you can pick the one you like most:

It's 3:30 a.m., and Tigger - we're on a one-name basis by then - says, "Tom, I can't hang with you anymore. I need some sleep." And I say, "That's not the Tigger I know. Come on, man, at least wait until the sun comes up."

So Tigger stays until the sun comes up and then he goes back to his hotel and I go to the Dowd Y, the only guy in the free-weight room wearing a silver suit, no shirt and ice. That's what I call jewelry, ice. Maybe the term will catch on. Maybe not. Don't really care.

Or, here's the second scenario: My wife meets me downtown at about 7:30, and we go to Town, the great restaurant and bar on Trade Street, and we drink a little wine and eat a few appetizers and she looks tired and I'm always tired and we go home before the party starts.

Thanks, CIAA! I'm partying with Big Tigger

I wrote a column Thursday inviting people to invite me to their CIAA parties, and they have. I have at least 13 invitations. And most of the invitations have come from women, which is never a bad thing. I've been invited to N.C. Central and Johnson C. Smith parties, to after parties and before parties and during parties, to a Patti LaBelle party and a Big Tigger party and the L.L. Cool J party.

I couldn't make the Patti LaBelle party Thursday night and gave one ticket to a friend and another to my older son, Lee. Lee was not familiar with Patti's music, and when she came out he said, man, has she lost weight. He thought Patti LaBelle was Aretha Franklin. And you wonder why my ex-wife and I no longer are together.

I will attend Big Tigger's party tonight. He speaks to me.

So thanks, CIAA. You've been gracious. See you tonight.